Leoh stopped the turntable and stepped off. He walked over to the Acquatainian, whose face was twisted with pain.
“I could kill you fairly easily now,” he said softly. “But I really have no desire to. You’ve had enough, I think.”
The room began to fade out. Leoh found himself sitting in the dueling machine’s booth, blinking at the now dead screen in front of him.
The door popped open and Hector’s grinning face appeared. “You beat him!”
“Yes,” Leoh said, suddenly tired. “But I didn’t kill him. He can try again with his own choice of weapons, if he chooses to.”
Ponte was white-faced and trembling as they walked toward him. His followers were huddled around him, asking questions. The chief meditech was saying:
“You may continue, if you wish, or postpone the second half of the duel until tomorrow.”
Looking up at Leoh, Ponte shook his head. “No … no. I was defeated. I can’t … fight again.”
The chief meditech nodded. ‘The duel is concluded, then. Professor Leoh has won.”
Leoh extended his hand to the Acquatainian. Ponte’s grasp was soft and sweaty.
“I hope we can be friends now,” Leoh said.
Looking thoroughly miserable, Ponte mumbled, “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
Long after everyone else had left the dueling machine chamber, Leoh, Spencer, and Hector remained behind, pacing slowly across the tiled floor, speaking in low voices that echoed gloomily in the vast room.
“I must go now, Albert,” Spencer said. “My ship was scheduled to leave half an hour ago. My adjutant, outside, is robably eating tranquilizers by now. He’s a good man, but extremely nervous.”