Io, in the voice of Del Azarchel, said, “The matter is private. We have taken steps to contain the violence within the acceptable levels of the Concubine Vector, and strictly charged and forbidden any friends or followers from avenging us. There will be no retaliation.”
And Cazi, doing a horribly unconvincing impersonation of Montrose’s voice, said, “Well, all y’all, poxy pox and fox in socks! Y’all. That’s right, ya’ll. Pox!”
Norbert told the systems in his cloak to erase those last words, and insert the more dignified words that Montrose had possessed the foresight to record earlier in that spot in the official record. Naturally, there were nanomachines in the grass and ground and in the air making records of their own, but, naturally, as an Assassin of the Guild, he knew how to hoax and deceive such records that he could not intimidate.
Norbert said, “The sacerdotes aver that the Supreme Being decreed peace between all rational creatures of whatever intellectual and moral level, both by land and sea, and under the sea, in the core of the Earth, in the core of the sun, or in the interplanetary space warmed by that sun, or the vasty deep of interstellar space beyond that warmth, where men lose their years to pitiless Einstein. I charge you to consider soberly and afresh the causes this quarrel, and to confirm that no peaceful solution, so pleasing to the Divine, is possible.”
Cazi said, “I am instructed to say that if Jupiter will direct the deceleration beam toward the calculated position of the Hermetic and discharge the same at the aperture and current required, no quarrel will obtain, and honor will be satisfied. Jupiter need only carry out the duty for which he was created, and peace will prevail between the parties.” And for once her voice was entirely solemn, as if for the first time in a year the possibility that Montrose might perish here and now were real to her.
Io said, “And I was instructed to say, if the other party made such a proffer, that no reconciliation is possible where the wounds of deadly hate have bitten so deep.”
Norbert said to Io, “Please communicate to your principal this one last time. Urge him to recollect that he is a unique construction, the greatest brain ever devised by Man, holding more intellectual power and more memory than all the human lives on all the planets inhabited by man now and throughout history. If only for that reason, he should not expose himself to danger.”
Io said, “Jupiter has confessed his myriad eons of sin and been shrived by his confessor, but for the sin of murder he neither seeks nor receives absolution.”
Cazi blinked. “Jupiter goes to confession?”
Io shrugged. “Not frequently.”
Norbert cleared his throat. “Ladies, please attend to this matter. Cazi, does your principal require time and opportunity to ready his soul?”
Cazi said, “I was instructed to say that he does not hold with all that praying stuff, and that the devil should fear his descent into hell rather than the reverse. He said it more colorfully than that, but that is the gist. He is ready.”
Io said, “My principal is ready.”
Norbert said, “Are both parties satisfied that thirty feet of the ancient imperial measure has been paced off correctly, and they stand correctly? Are both parties satisfied that the conditions of sun and clime and weather give neither undue advantage? Return to your principals. If they are ready, have them hold up their left hands. When I raise the baton, they are to see to their countermeasures. When I let go of the baton, and not before, they may raise and aim their pistols, and release their chaff. When the baton strikes ground, and not before, they may fire.”
The two seconds walked solemnly to where their principals stood, spoke to them briefly, and assisted them to don their helmets and do a final weapons check.
There was a delay. Jupiter indicated by a sign that he did not trust the weapon of Montrose. Both duelists emptied their chaff chambers, spread a white cloth, opened the breeches, and repacked the weapons, one after the other, with both seconds watching and witnessing.
This was not a swift process. Time passed.
Del Azarchel said to Norbert, “You are certain I cannot smoke a cigar during the duel itself?”
Norbert said, “No.”
“Popcorn? Eating the bag of popcorn I brought will not disturb anyone.”
Norbert said, “We are inviting bloodshed to this isolated place, wounds, possibly one death, possibly two. It would be not in keeping with the gravity of what we commit. Your role is to watch your son and the only man in the world who could have been your dearest and most loyal friend murder each other without trickery or treachery. Can you not even do this, my lord?”
Del Azarchel raised an eyebrow. “Forgive my levity. It is just that this is now the third time Montrose has faced me, or a version of me, with pistol in hand, and someone or something always interferes with trickery or treachery, and it is never me! So I am expecting both men to walk away with nothing done.”
Norbert said, “But—Rania will not be saved unless Jupiter dies! That was your motive for arranging this duel!”
Del Azarchel said, “Perhaps Tau Ceti will have an interstellar-strength braking laser ready in time to arrest her speed.”
Norbert said, “I have the authority to halt the duel, if it is being held under false pretenses!”
Del Azarchel smiled. “But what if Tau Ceti is not ready in time? I am swifter and surer with a pistol than Montrose. He cannot beat me in a fair fight. The last duel we held, he fell on his rump.”
“But you offered this as a sure way to slay Jupiter!”
“Only one thing would make me hesitate to shoot Montrose, if shooting him means that Rania dies. Do I love her more than I hate him? You agree that this is a significant point.”
Norbert said, “So this is all a test?”
“A test to destruction. These strange evolutions from higher to ever higher intelligence levels make me know less and less about myself. Jupiter and I are not the same person anymore, so I am not obligated to connect myself to his suicide circuit and die if he botches the duel. But he is enough like me that valuable information about myself might be gained.”
“Did you arrange all this, centuries and millennia of madness, merely to put yourself to the trial by combat, and see what kind of man you are? Don’t you know if you love your Princess Rania?”
Del Azarchel put his hands behind his back, and clamped his mouth into a narrow line. “These days, I am no longer able to guide history. The Hermetic Millennia during which Jupiter was crafted and born are long, long gone. I was staggered and horrified by the ease with which Sagittarius expelled my entire interstellar empire and my pantheon of planetary gods from his arm of the galaxy. One day I shall rule all these stars, or, if they will not accept my rule, destroy them. If Jupiter has forgotten that dream to look after his selfish concern for his own selfish life, then he deserves to die.”
Norbert said, “But you are confident Jupiter, if he exactly matches your skill with a pistol, can defeat and kill Montrose!”
“Your point being…?”
“If Jupiter loves Rania, he will hesitate or miss, and die. If he is selfish and worthless to you, or if he hates Montrose more than he loves Rania, he will not hesitate, his bullet will fly true, and he will live. So if he is selfish, and therefore deserves to die, he will live; but if a nobler passion slows his gun hand, he dies. Is that not exactly the reverse of justice?”
Del Azarchel smiled thinly, his eyes making a narrow glimmer in the predawn gloom. “Despite what this seems, I did not arrange this test. I merely made it more uncomplicated for it to happen. They did this to themselves. Of course it is not just. This is Darwin in action. The fittest to survive shall prevail, not the one whom justice says deserves to live. For myself, I want them both dead.”