Hector came over to the bench, stumbling slightly, and sat beside her.
“The drinks are in the cooler,” she said, pointing to the other side of the bench.
After dinner they sat together on the bench, heads back to gaze at the stars, while the skimmer’s autopilot kept them from drifting too far from the harbor.
“This, uh . . . thing about Odal,” Hector said, very reluctantly. “It’s not . . . well, it’s not the kind of thing that….”
“I know. It’s a terrible thing to ask you to do.” She put her hand in his. “But what else can I do? I’m only a girl; I can’t go out and kill him myself. I need a protector, a champion, someone who will avenge my father’s murder. You’re the only one I can turn to, Hector.”
“Yes, but … um … killing him, that’s. . . .”
“It’ll be dangerous, I realize that. But you’re so brave. You’re not afraid of Odal, are you?”
“No, but….”
“And it won’t be anything more than a justifiable execution. He’s a murderer. You’ll be the sword of justice. My sword of justice.”
“Yes, but….”
She pulled away slightly. “Of course, Odal will probably never return to Acquatainia. But if he does, you can be sure it’s for one thing only.”
Hector blinked. “What’s that?”
“To murder Professor Leoh,” she said.
The Star Watchman slumped back on the bench. “You’re right. And I guess I’ve got to stop him from doing, that.”
Geri turned and grabbed him by the ears and kissed him. Hector felt his feet come off the deck. He held onto her and kissed back. Then she slid away from him. He reached for her, but she took his hand in hers.
“Let me catch my breath,” she said.
He eased over toward her, feeling his heart thumping louder than the slap of the waves against the skimmer’s hull.
“Of course,” Geri said coolly, “it seems that Professor Leoh can take care of himself in the dueling machine.”
“Uh-huh.” Hector edged closer to her.
“It was very surprising to hear that Lal Ponte had challenged the Professor,” she said, backing into the corner of the bench. “Ponte is such a … a nothing type of person. I never thought he’d have the courage to fight a duel.”
Leaning close to Geri and sliding an arm across the bench’s backrest and around her shoulders, Hector said nothing.
“I remember my father saying that if anyone in the legislature was working for Kerak, it would be Ponte.”
“Huh?”
Geri was frowning with the memory. “Yes, Father was concerned that Ponte was allied with Kerak. ‘If Kerak ever conquers us,’ Father said to me once, ‘that little coward will be our Prime Minister.'”
Hector sat upright. “But now he’s serving Martine . . . and Martine sure isn’t pro-Kerak.”
“I know,” Geri said, nodding, “Perhaps Father was wrong. Or Ponte may have changed his mind. Or….”
“Or he could still be working for Kerak.”
Geri smiled. “Even if he is, Professor Leoh took care of him.”
“Umm.” Hector leaned back again and saw that he and Geri had somehow moved slightly apart. He pushed over toward her.
“My foot!” Geri leaped up from the bench.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I step on . . .” Hector jumped up too.
Geri was hopping on one foot in the tiny cockpit, making the skimmer rock with each bounce. Hector reached out to hold her, but she pushed him away. The effort toppled her over backward. The cockpit gunwale caught her behind the knees and she flipped backward, howling, into the water with a good-sized splash.
Hector, appalled, never hesitated a second. He leaped right into the sea from the point where he stood, narrowly missing Geri as he hit the water, head first, arms and legs flailing.
He came up spouting, blurry-eyed, gasping. Geri was treading water beside him.
“I… I…. I….”
She laughed. “It’s all right, Hector. It’s my own fault. I lost my temper when you stepped on my foot.”
“But… I… are you? …”
“It’s a lovely night,” she said. “As long as we’re in the water anyway, why don’t we have a swim?”