Holding the broadsword aloft, Hector charged toward Odal, who stood dogged, short-breathed, sweat-streaked, waiting for him. The broadsword was quite heavy, even for a two-handed grip. And Hector did not notice his own battered helmet laying on the ground between them. Odal, for his part, had Hector’s charge and swing timed perfectly in his own mind. He would duck under the swing and bury his ax in the Watchman’s chest. Then he would face the others. Probably with their leader gone, the duel would automatically end. But, of course, Hector would not really be dead; the best Odal could hope for now was to win the duel. Hector charged directly into Odal’s plan, but the Watchman’s timing was much poorer than anticipated. Just as he began the downswing of a mighty broadsword stroke, he stumbled on the helmet. Odal started to duck, then saw that the Watchman was diving face-first into the ground, legs flailing, and that heavy broadsword was cleaving through the air with a will of its own. Odal pulled back in confusion, only to have the wild-swinging broadsword strike him just above the wrist. The ax dropped out of his hand, and Odal involuntarily grasped the wounded forearm with his left hand. Blood seeped through his fingers. He shook his head in bitter resignation, turned his back on the prostrate Hector, and began walking away. Slowly, the scene faded, and Hector found himself sitting in the booth of the dueling machine. XV The door opened and Leoh squeezed into the booth. “You’re all right?” Hector blinked and refocused his eyes on reality. “Think so—” “Everything went well? The Watchmen got through to you?” “Good thing they did. I was nearly killed anyway.” “But you survived.” “So far.” Across the room, Odal stood massaging his forehead while Kor demanded: “How could they possibly have discovered the secret? Where was the leak?” “That is not important now,” Odal said quietly. “The primary fact is that they have not only discovered our secret, but they have found a way of duplicating it.” “The sanctimonious hypocrites,” Kor snarled, “accusing us of cheating, and then they do the same thing.” “Regardless of the moral values of our mutual behavior,” Odal said dryly, “it is evident that there is no longer any use in calling on telepathically-guided assistants. I shall face the Watchman alone during the second half of the duel.” “Can you trust them to do the same?” “Yes. They easily defeated my aides a few minutes ago, then stood aside and allowed the two of us to fight by ourselves.” “And you failed to defeat him?” Odal frowned. “I was wounded by a fluke. He is a very ... unusual opponent. I cannot decide whether he is actually as clumsy as he appears to be, or whether he is shamming and trying to make me overconfident. Either way, it is impossible to predict his behavior. Perhaps he is also telepathic.”