“But how does he do it?” Hector asked, his voice suddenly loud and demanding. “I’ve been asking myself the same question. We’ve checked over the dueling machine time and again. There is no possible way for Odal to plug in five helpers ... unless—” “Unless?” Leoh hesitated, seemingly debating with himself. Finally he nodded his head sharply, and answered, “Unless Odal is a telepath.” “Telepath? But—” “I know it sounds farfetched. But there have been well-documented cases of telepathy for centuries throughout the Commonwealth.” Hector frowned. “Sure, everybody’s heard about it ... natural telepaths ... but they’re so unpredictable ... I don’t see how—” Leoh leaned forward on the couch and clasped his hands in front of his chin. “The Terran races have never developed telepathy, or any of the extrasensory talents. They never had to, not with tri-di communications and superlight starships. But perhaps the Kerak people are different—” Hector shook his head. “If they had uh, telepathic abilities, they would be using them everywhere. Don’t you think?” “Probably so. But only Odal has shown such an ability, and only ... _of course!_” “What?” “Odal has shown telepathic ability only in the dueling machine.” “As far as we know.” “Certainly. But look, suppose he’s a natural telepath ... the same as a Terran. He has an erratic, difficult-to-control talent. Then he gets into a dueling machine. The machine amplifies his thoughts. And it also amplifies his talent!” “Ohhh.” “You see ... outside the machine, he’s no better than any wandering fortuneteller. But the dueling machine gives his natural abilities the amplification and reproducibility that they could never have unaided.” Hector nodded. “So it’s a fairly straightforward matter for him to have five associates in the Kerak Embassy sit in on the duel, so to speak. Possibly they are natural telepaths also, but they needn’t be.” “They just, uh, pool their minds with his, hm-m-m? Six men show up in the duel ... pretty nasty.” Hector dropped into the desk chair. “So what do we do now?” “Now?” Leoh blinked at his young friend. “Why ... I suppose the first thing we should do is call the hospital and see how Dulaq came through.” Leoh put the call through. Geri Dulaq’s face appeared on the screen. “How’s your father?” Hector blurted. “The duel was too much for him,” she said blankly. “He is dead.” “No,” Leoh groaned. “I ... I’m sorry,” Hector said. “I’ll be right down there. Stay where you are.” The young Star Watchman dashed out of the office as Geri broke the phone connection. Leoh stared at the blank screen for a few moments, then leaned far back in the couch and closed his eyes. He was suddenly exhausted, physically and emotionally. He fell asleep, and dreamed of men dead and dying. Hector’s nerve-shattering whistling woke him up. It was full night outside. “What are you so happy about?” Leoh groused as Hector popped into the office. “Happy? Me?” “You were whistling.”