“I suppose the Acquatainians want to talk to me?” Leoh asked academically.
“They’re on tri-di now, waiting for you.”
“They’re holding a transmission frequency open over two thousand light-years?” Leoh looked impressed.
“You’re the inventor of the dueling machine and the head of Psychonics, Incorporated. You’re the only man who can tell them what went wrong.”
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
“You can take the call here,” the president said, starting to get up from his chair.
“No, no, stay at your desk,” Leoh insisted. “There’s no need for you to leave. Or you either,” he added to the assistant professor.
The president touched a button on his desk communicator. The far wall of the office glowed momentarily, then seemed to dissolve. They were looking into another office, this one in distant Acquatainia. It was crowded with nervous-looking men in business clothes and military uniforms.
“Gentlemen,” Dr. Leoh said.
Several of the Acquatainians tried to answer him at once. After a few seconds of talking simultaneously, they all looked toward one of their members—a tall, determined, shrewd-looking civilian who bore a neatly trimmed black beard.
“I am Femd Massan, the Acting Prime Minister of Acquatainia. You realize, of course, the crisis that has been precipitated in my government because of this duel?”
Leoh blinked. “I realize that there’s apparently been ome difficulty with one of the dueling machines installed in your cluster. Political crises are not in my field.”
“But your dueling machine had incapacitated the Prime Minister,” one of the generals bellowed.