_She certainly is a pretty girl_, Leoh thought as he explained very carefully to Geri Dulaq what he proposed to do. She sat quietly and politely in the spacious living room of the Dulaq residence. The glittering chandelier cast touches of fire on her chestnut hair. Her slim body was slightly rigid with tension, her hands were clasped in her lap. Her face—which looked as though it could be very expressive—was completely serious now. [Illustration] “And that is the sum of it,” Leoh concluded. “I believe that it will be possible to use the dueling machine itself to examine your father’s thoughts and determine exactly what took place during his duel against Major Odal!” She asked softly, “But you are afraid that the shock might be repeated, and this could be fatal to my father?” Leoh nodded wordlessly. “Then I am very sorry, sir, but I must say no.” Firmly. “I understand your feelings,” Leoh replied, “but I hope you realize that unless we can stop Odal and Kanus immediately, we may very well be faced with war.” She nodded. “I know. But you must remember that we are speaking of my father, of his very life. Kanus will have his war in any event, no matter what I do.” “Perhaps,” Leoh admitted. “Perhaps.” Hector and Leoh drove back to the University campus and their quarters in the dueling machine chamber. Neither of them slept well that night. The next morning, after an unenthusiastic breakfast, they found themselves standing in the antiseptic-white chamber, before the looming, impersonal intricacy of the machine. “Would you like to practice with it?” Leoh asked. Hector shook his head. “Maybe later.” The phone chimed in Leoh’s office. They both went in. Geri Dulaq’s face showed on the tri-di screen. “I have just heard the news. I did not know that Lieutenant Hector has challenged Odal.” Her face was a mixture of concern and reluctance. “He challenged Odal,” Leoh answered, “to prevent the assassin from challenging me.” “Oh—You are a very brave man, lieutenant.” Hector’s face went through various contortions and slowly turned a definite red, but no words issued from his mouth. “Have you reconsidered your decision?” Leoh asked. The girl closed her eyes briefly, then said flatly, “I am afraid I cannot change my decision. My father’s safety is my first responsibility. I am sorry.” They exchanged a few meaningless trivialities—with Hector still thoroughly tongue-tied and ended the conversation on a polite but strained note. Leoh rubbed his thumb across the phone switch for a moment, then turned to Hector. “My boy, I think it would be a good idea for you to go straight to the hospital and check on Dulaq’s condition.” “But ... why—” “Don’t argue, son. This could be vitally important.”