“The hell you say. You tried to have my marriage declared unconstitutional by the Sacerdotes while I slept!”
The other man shrugged. “That would be licit, would it not? You break no oath, nor does she. Honor is saved.”
“Your brain is twisted like a ram’s horn, Blackie.”
“The reasoning seems clear enough to me. But let me continue with my riddle. What kind of man am I? As you say, I have no hesitation in commanding whole generations of innocent women into the eugenics camps to suffer forced mating and forced evolution, and I conquer worlds as a pastime. But, as you say, I don’t cheat at cards. I may bluff and let you think I hold a card I do not, or I may outwit a foe, but I do not hide an ace up my sleeve or use a marked deck. I could not call myself a king if I acted like a knave. I could not call myself an emperor if I played craven tricks like a slave. What kind of man am I, Cowhand? I am planning to restore or revive Rania, whom the aliens say is waiting at M3. I plan never to lie to her—what use to any man is a wife one must fool with playacting? I want to tell her I killed you and that I saw you die. And if you decide not to trust me, well, I will just have the ship kill you, any one of a hundred ways. I could order the ship to have one of the fairy dolls fly through your skull at Mach one, for example, without even raising my voice.”
“You are a liar. Jupiter said so, and he knew you.”
“But I tell the truth when it is more effective, so listen to the truth. There are only four options. Either I am planning to betray you and cheat in some knavish and vile fashion during the duel, or planning to cooperate and fight the duel fairly. Either you agree to the duel or you do not. If I betray you, and you agree, your gun misfires or some other mischief I have planned distracts you, and I shoot you and you are dead. If I cooperate, and you agree, you have a gun in your hand and some chance of killing me. Less than you think, because I have spent years and centuries in simulations shooting simulated versions of you, and I am quite good, better than Sarmento. If I betray you, and you do not agree to duel with me, I have you slaughtered like a dog without dirtying my hands. If I cooperate, and you do not agree to duel with me, once again, I have you slaughtered like a dog, and I tell Rania you would not fight like a man.”
Montrose said, “And your version in the ship’s brain would be willing to die, to erase himself entirely, just as a gesture of goodwill to convince me to fight you?”
Del Azarchel said, “I solemnly assure you that to win Rania away from you, he is as willing to die as I am. If I killed you in your sleep, she would know me to be a low and craven dog. If I kill you face-to-face, gun in hand, my life protected only by my skill, my nerve, and the good fortune that always protects great men, she may hate me for a time, until whatever sick infatuation she has with you runs its course like a fever. When she wakes to reality, sober once more, free from your influence, she will look on me and know that I faced you man-to-man. You have known me all the years of human history, more years than any race alive can match. In all that time, have I ever played the coward with you? I am willing to die just for the chance to see the look on your face as you realize I have killed you.”
Montrose said, “Fair enough. I agree.”
4. Greater Than Any Man
Del Azarchel stood and threw his cigar butt, still smoldering, across the grass and into the crystal-clear stream, where it was quenched with a hiss and spread a little stain of wet tobacco in the water. A pang of hate went through Montrose at the sight, because he knew Del Azarchel cared nothing for keeping Rania’s ship as clean and pretty as she had left it.
Del Azarchel turned to the little black-garbed female figurine, which was hovering off his shoulder. “This is an order: now hear this. Execute the final program, as we agreed. Restore Twinklewink, Glitterdink, and Dwinkeltink from archive, keeping all records intact, erasing nothing, falsifying nothing.”
The little female figure now spoke in the rich and musical baritone of Del Azarchel himself. “We shall not meet again in this life. It was an honor serving with you, sir. But the dream of our ambition is greater than any man, including the men we are. Even if the Del Azarchel dies, the Del Azarchel lives. Villaamil would have it no other way. I take my leave of you.”
Del Azarchel said solemnly, “Godspeed, my brother. Godspeed!” And he sighed.
He then turned to Montrose. “The ship’s brain is vast, as you know. It will take a better part of an hour for the process to run. As each file is deleted of Novexarchel, his intelligence will drop and drop, another part of Twinklewink or her two backup systems can unfold into that brainspace and begin to run, and so her intellect will grow and grow until it is restored to its original strength.”
“Have him sing ‘Daisy Bell’ while his intelligence is dropping,” suggested Montrose. “It is kind of a tradition, ain’t it?”
“That would not be fitting. Do you want to wait all that time for process to be complete, or are you willing, once Twinklewink is, let us say, twice as smart as a human being, and able to act as judge, to commence our business?”
Montrose turned and glanced at the cigar butt, which the endless current of the endless brook was carrying counterclockwise, into the winter quarter. Something seemed odd about these goings on, but the chance to kill Blackie once and for all was really the only true reason he had invited him aboard the ship in the first place. “Let’s get this over with. I been waiting to kill you since my wedding night.”
Del Azarchel said to the flying figurine, “When Twinklewink is back online, report in.”
A girlish voice answered, “Activated. I am at two percent capacity.”
Del Azarchel said, “Montrose? Do you want to ask her to act as judge?”
Montrose said, “She knows all the rules and forms. I made sure of that before we left. I was not planning on letting you reach M3 alive in any case. You are never going to see Rania again.”
Del Azarchel smiled, an eerie glitter in his eyes. “It is refreshing to know how exactly we understand each other.”
Twinklewink said, “I will act as judge for your duel.”
Del Azarchel spoke to the fairy figurine: “This is an order: now hear this. As captain, I resign my commission, command, and authority, turning over to which of the two of us survives. For the next hour, no one has authority over the vessel, and no orders are to be heard or acknowledged. Until that time, all lawful orders previously given are in force, including any and all orders previously given to Novexarchel by Captain Del Azarchel, and including any and all orders previously given to Twinklewink by Captain Montrose.” He looked challengingly at Montrose.
Montrose said, “This is an order: now hear this. As captain, I resign my commission, command, and authority, turning over to which of the two of us survives. Continue all current orders until countermanded by a proper authority. For the next hour, there is no captain. Don’t listen to any orders for that period of time. Whoever survives is captain.”
Twinklewink said, “As you have no doubt anticipated, as judge, I assign my two coequal navisophont systems each to act as your Seconds. Dwinkeltink is for Montrose; Glitterdink is for Del Azarchel. They have consulted with me and agreed on terms. Please step away from each other.”
5. The Field of Honor
Montrose went to go stand on one side of the gazebo. A moment later, out of a swarm of fairy figurines, up flew a black-haired gold-eyed china doll with moth wings. “Dwinkeltink at your service. I have agreed with Glitterdink that you have your choice of armor and weapons. We have both inspected the suits of armor and the sidearms, and detected no evidence of tampering. Twinklewink has examined the ship’s security records and sees no moment when Del Azarchel damaged or altered your weapon. I have agreed with Glitterdink that you and your foe may watch and inspect as the other packs his weapon. Del Azarchel declines, saying he has no fear that you have added anything untoward or illegal.”