"Listen," said Bigman, moving about uneasily, "when do I get to see Urteil?"
"Whenever Dr. Gardoma says you may."
"Get him on the wire and tell him to say I can, then."
Cook's gaze remained fastened thoughtfully on the small Martian. "What's on your mind?"
And because Bigman had to make arrangements about the gravity, he explained some of his plan to Cook.
Dr. Gardoma opened the door and nodded to Bigman to enter. "You can have him, Bigman.," he whispered. "I don't want him."
He stepped out, and Bigman and Urteil were alone with one another once again.
Jonathan Urteil was a little pallid where stubble didn't darken his face, but that was the only sign of his ordeal. He bared his lips to a savage grin. "I'm in one piece, if that's what you've come to see."
"That's what I've come to see. Also to ask you a question. Are you still full of that drivel about Lucky Starr setting up a fake Sirian base in the mines?"
"I intend to prove it."
"Look, you cobber, you know it's a lie, and you're going to fake proof if you can. Fake it! Now I'm not expecting you to get on your knees to thank me for saving your life… "
"Wait!" Slowly Urteil's face flushed. "All I remember is that that thing got me first by surprise. That was accident. After that, I don't know what happened. What you say means nothing to me."
Bigman shrieked with outrage. "You smudge of space dust, you yelled for help."
"Where's your witness? I don't remember a thing."
"How do you suppose you got out?"
"I'm not supposing anything. Maybe the thing crawled away on its own. Maybe there was no thing at all. Maybe a rockfall hit me and knocked me out. Now if you came here expecting me to cry on your shoulders and promise to lay off your grafting friend, you're going to be disappointed. If you have nothing else to say, good-by."
Bigman said, "There's something you're forgetting. You tried to kill me."
"Where's your witness? Now if you don't get out, I'll pucker up and blow you out, midget."
Bigman remained heroically calm. "I'll make a deal with you, Urteil. You've made every threat you can think of because you're half an inch taller than I am and half a pound heavier, but you crawled the only time I made a pass at you."
"With a force-knife and myself unarmed. Don't forget that."
"I say you're yellow. Meet me rough and tumble, now. No weapons. Or are you too weak?"
"Too weak for you? Two years in the hospital and I wouldn't be too weak for you!"
"Then fight. Before witnesses! We can use the space in the power room. I've made arrangements with Hanley Cook."
"Cook must hate you. What about Peverale?"
"Nobody asked him. And Cook doesn't hate me."
"He seems anxious to get you killed. But I don't think I'll give him the satisfaction. Why should I fight a half-pint of skin and wind?"
"Yellow?"
"I said, why? You said you were making a deal."
"Right. You win, I don't say a word about what happened in the mines, what really happened. I win, you lay off the Council."
"Some deal. Why should I worry about anything you can say about me?"
"You're not afraid of losing, are you?"
"Space!" The exclamation was enough.
Bigman said, "Well, then?"
"You must think I'm a fool. If I fight with you before witnesses I'll be indicted for murder. If I lean a finger on you, you're squashed. Go find yourself another way to commit suicide."
"All right. How much do you outweigh me?"
"A hundred pounds," said Urteil contemptuously.
"A hundred pounds of fat," squeaked Bigman, his gnomish face screwed into a ferocious scowl. "Tell you what. Let's fight under Mercurian gravity. That makes your advantage forty pounds. And you keep your inertia advantage. Fair enough?"
Urteil said, "Space, I'd like to give you one smash, just to plaster your big mouth over your miserable little face."
"You've got your chance. Is it a deal?"
"By Earth, it's a deal. I'll try not to kill you, but that's as far as I'll go. You've asked for this, you've begged for it."
"Right. Now let's go. Let's go." And Bigman was so anxious that he hopped about as he talked, sparring a little with rapid birdlike motions of his fists. In fact, such was his eagerness for this duel that not once did he give a specific thought to Lucky nor suffer any presentiment of disaster. He had no way of telling that, some time before, Lucky had fought a more deadly duel than the one Bigman now proposed.
The power-level had its tremendous generators and heavy equipment, but it also had its broad level space suitable for gatherings of personnel. It was the oldest part of the Dome. In the first days, before even a single mine shaft had been blasted into Mercurian soil, the original construction engineers had slept on cots in that space between the generators. Even now it was still occasionally used for trifilm entertainment.
Now it served as a ring, and Cook, together with half a dozen or so technicians, remained dubiously on the side lines.
"Is this all?" demanded Bigman.
Cook said, "Mindes and his men are out Sun-side. There are ten men in the mines looking for your ropes, and the rest are mostly at their instruments." He looked apprehensively at Urteil and said, "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Bigman?"
Urteil was stripped to the waist. He had a thick growth of hair over his chest and shoulders, and he moved his muscles with an athletic joy.
Bigman looked in Urteil's direction indifferently. "All set with the gravity?"
"We'll have it off at the signal. I've rigged the controls so the rest of the Dome won't be affected. Has Urteil agreed?"
"Sure." Bigman smiled. "It's all right, pal."
"I hope so," said Cook fervently.
Urteil called out, "When do we get started?" Then looking about the small group of spectators, he asked, "Anyone care to bet on the monkey?"
One of the technicians looked at Bigman with an uneasy grin. Bigman, now also stripped to his waist, looked surprisingly wiry, but the difference in size gave the match a grotesque appearance.
"No bet here," said the technician.
"Are we ready?" called Cook.
"I am," said Urteil.
Cook licked his pale lips and flicked the master switch. There was a change in the pitch of the subdued droning of the generators.
Bigman swayed with the sudden loss of weight. So did all the rest. Urteil stumbled but recovered rapidly and advanced gingerly into the middle of the clear space. He did not bother to lift his arms but stood waiting in a posture of complete relaxation.
"Start something, bug," he said.
13. Results of a Duel
In a way he was. Mercurian surface gravity was almost precisely equal to Martian surface gravity, and it was something he was at home with thoroughly. His cool, gray eyes, watching sharply, noticed every sway in Urteil's body, every knotting of a sudden muscle as he worked to keep erect.
Small misjudgments even in merely keeping one's balance were inevitable when working in a gravity to which one was unaccustomed.
Bigman moved in suddenly, springing from foot to foot and side to side in a broken motion that was at once amusingly dancelike and completely confusing.
"What is this?" growled Urteil in exasperation. "A Martian waltz?"
"Kind of," said Bigman. His arm lunged outward, and his bare knuckles slammed into Urteil's side with a resounding thwack, staggering the big fellow.
There was a gasp from the audience and one yell of "Hey, boy!"
Bigman stood there, arms akimbo, waiting for Urteil to recover his balance.
Urteil did so in a matter of five seconds, but now there was an angry red splotch on his side and a similar and angrier one on each cheekbone.
His own arm shot out powerfully, his right palm half open as though a slap would be sufficient to fling this stinging insect out of his way forever.