A flash of recognition lighted Odal’s eyes. “I see. Of course. My quarrel here is not with you. I apologize.” He turned back to Leoh, who was also standing now. “Not good enough,” Hector said. “I don’t, uh, like the ... tone of your apology.” Leoh raised a hand, as if to silence the younger man. “I apologized; that is sufficient,” Odal warned. Hector took a step toward Odal. “I guess I could insult your glorious leader, or something like that ... but this seems more direct.” He took the water pitcher from the table and poured it calmly and carefully over Odal’s head. A wave of laughter swept the room. Odal went white. “You are determined to die.” He wiped the dripping water from his eyes. “I will meet you before the week is out. And you have saved no one.” He turned on his heel and stalked out. “Do you realize what you’ve done?” Leoh asked, aghast. Hector shrugged. “He was going to challenge you—” “He will still challenge me, after you’re dead.” “Uu-m-m, yes, well, maybe so. I guess you’re right—Well, anyway, we’ve gained a little more time.” “Four days.” Leoh shook his head. “Four days to the end of the week. All right, come on, we have work to do.” Hector was grinning broadly as they left the restaurant. He began to whistle. “What are you so happy about?” Leoh grumbled. “About you, sir. When we came in here, you were, uh, well ... almost beaten. Now you’re right back in the game again.” Leoh glanced at the Star Watchman. “In your own odd way, Hector, you’re quite a boy ... I think.” XII Their groundcar glided from the parking building to the restaurant’s entrance ramp, at the radio call of the doorman. Within minutes, Hector and Leoh were cruising through the city, in the deepening shadows of night. “There’s only one man,” Leoh said, “who has faced Odal and lived through it.” “Dulaq,” Hector agreed. “But ... for all the information the medical people have been able to get from him, he might as well be, uh, dead.” “He’s still completely withdrawn?” Hector nodded. “The medicos think that ... well, maybe in a few months, with drugs and psychotherapy and all that ... they might be able to bring him back.” “It won’t be soon enough. We’ve only got four days.” “I know.” Leoh was silent for several minutes. Then: “Who is Dulaq’s closest living relative? Does he have a wife?” “I think his wife is, uh, dead. Has a daughter though. Pretty girl. Bumped into her in the hospital once or twice—” Leoh smiled in the darkness. Hector’s term, “bumped into,” was probably completely literal. “Why are you asking about Dulaq’s next-of-kin?” “Because,” Leoh replied, “I think there might be a way to make Dulaq tell us what happened during his duel. But it is a very dangerous way. Perhaps a fatal way.” “Oh.” They lapsed into silence again. Finally he blurted, “Come on, my boy, let’s find the daughter and talk to her.” “Tonight?” “Now.” * * * * *