Nottingham nodded as if satisfied. Gorton looked a trifle abashed. Franklin’s habitual smile faded for a moment but quickly returned to his bearded face once again.
Justice Halpern downed the last of his brandy and soda, then pushed away from the table.
«This dueling-machine business is one thing,» he said as he got to his feet. «But I have a really important problem to deal with.»
As the other three got up from their chairs, Franklin asked, «A really important problem?»
«Yes,» said Halpern. «The board’s been petitioned to open the Men’s Bar to female members.»
Gorton’s eyes went wide. «The Men’s Bar? But they can’t do that! Can they?»
His lean, austere face showing utter distaste, Justice Halpern said, «I knew we should never have allowed women to become members of the Club.»
«Had to, didn’t we?» Franklin asked. «It’s the law. Equal rights and all that.»
His expression going from distaste to outright disgust, Halpern said, «Yes, we had to, according to the law of the land. But we agreed to keep the Men’s Bar sacrosanct! They agreed to it! But now those aggressive, loud-mouthed feminists are going back on the agreement. They’ve petitioned the board to ‘liberate’ the Men’s Bar.»
«The board won’t go for that, will they?» Gorton asked, looking worried.
«They certainly shouldn’t,» said Nottingham, with some heat. «We need someplace on God’s green Earth where we can be away from them.»
Justice Halpern nodded. «The board’s appointed a committee to study the matter. We’re meeting in ten minutes to plot out our strategy and make a recommendation to the full board when it meets on the first of the month.» With that, he strode out of the Men’s Bar, leaving the other three standing at their table.
«He’s going to give himself a heart attack,» Gorton mused as he sat down again and reached for his drink.
Franklin shook his head. «No. The judge is the kind of man who doesn’t get a heart attack, he gives them.»
Nottingham chuckled. «But he seems dead set against this dueling-machine proposition.»
«And he’s the swing vote on the supreme court, from what I hear,» said Gorton.
Franklin beckoned to the waiter for another mug of ale, then hunched forward in his chair like a conspirator about to reveal his plans.
«About the dueling machine,» he said, his voice lowered.
«Yes?»
«You remember Martin Luther King’s famous line, ‘I have a dream?’»
«Yes.»
«Well, I have a scheme.»
Thus it was arranged that Rick Gorton, amiable Pooh-bear of a man, would challenge Justice Halpern to a duel. It was all done in a very friendly way, of course. The next afternoon, when the four men met again at the club, Halpern was in a smiling mood.
Gazing around the warm dark paneling of the Men’s Bar, the judge said with some satisfaction, «Well, at least I got the committee to agree that we should dig in our heels and recommend that the board reject the women’s petition out of hand.»
«D’you think the board will have the guts to follow your recommendation?» Gorton asked.
«They caved in to the women before,» Nottingham recalled, clear distaste in his voice and face.
«They haven’t been particularly famous for their courage,» Franklin added.
With tight-lipped determination, Justice Halpern said, «The board will follow my rec—er, I mean, the committee’s recommendation, never fear.» He looked admiringly around the soothingly dark, pleasingly quiet room. «This old place will remain a male bastion.»
Franklin nodded knowingly, remembering that several key members of the club’s board had cases pending before Justice Halpern.
«That’s good news,» Franklin murmured.
«Indeed it is,» said Halpern, with a self-satisfied smile. He signaled the barkeep for his usual brandy and soda.
Franklin glanced at Gorton, who glanced in turn at Nottingham.
When neither of them said a word, Franklin spoke up. «When will the supreme court decide on the dueling-machine proposal?»
Halpern gave him a sharp look. «In two weeks, when we open the year’s hearings.»
Very gently, Franklin stepped on the toe of Gorton’s nearer shoe.
The patent attorney took the hint. «Y’know, your honor, it doesn’t seem right to make a decision on the case without trying a duel yourself.»
«Me?» The judge looked alarmed. «Fight a duel?»
«In virtual reality,» Gorton said. «Nobody gets hurt.»
«It’s all nonsense,» the judge grumbled.
Franklin nudged Gorton under the table again, harder, and the patent attorney said, «I could be your challenger. You could pick any setting you like. Choose your weapons.»
Halpern gave Gorton one of his well-known icy stares.
Nottingham came in with the line they had rehearsed earlier in the day. «You would be the only member of the court who has experienced the dueling machine. The other justices would have to look up to you, follow your example.»
«It’s all nonsense,» Halpern repeated.
Franklin nodded sagely. «I understand. It’s a little scary, fighting a duel—even in virtual reality.»
«You told me no one gets hurt,» the judge said.
«Nobody does,» Gorton said. «I’ve fought three duels so far. They’re fun!»
«Three duels?» Halpern asked.
With a pleasant grin, Gorton said, «Once I was a fighter pilot in a World War I biplane. And I was a knight fighting in a tournament, armor and lances and all that.» He added sheepishly, «I lost that one.»
«Your opponent unhorsed you?» Nottingham asked, on cue.
«He killed me,» Gorton said, still grinning. «Skewered me with his lance, right through my shield and armor and all.»
Halpern looked aghast. «You died?»
«In the VR simulation. Opened my eyes and I was back in the dueling machine booth, safe and sound. No blood.»
«That … that’s interesting,» said the judge.
«If you fought a duel,» Franklin asked, his bearded face all innocent curiosity, «what setting would you choose? What weapons?»
Trained psychologist that he was, Franklin had assessed Halpern wisely. It took only a few days of sophisticated arm-twisting to get the judge to agree to face Rick Gorton in a duel—under the conditions that Justice Halpern picked.
The only sign of apprehension that Halpern showed as the four men entered the VR Duels, Inc. facility was a barely discernable throbbing of the blue vein in his forehead, just above his left eye.
Gorton seemed perfectly at ease, his round face displaying his usual easygoing, lopsided smile. Franklin was quiet and very serious; Nottingham stiffly formal.
The dueling-machine office was located in a busy, noisy shopping mall, set between a music store thronged with teenagers and a pharmacy that catered to Medicare patients. Once the four men had pushed through the facility’s front doors, the place looked more like a medical clinic than the kind of gaming arcade that Halpern had expected. There was a small anteroom, its walls all hospital white and bare. Through an open doorway he could see a larger room that was filled with a row of booths, also in sterile white décor.
A pleasant-faced young man was sitting at the desk in the anteroom. He wore a white tunic and slacks, with a stylized pair of crossed sky-blue scimitars on the breast of the tunic.
«Justice Halpern?» said the young man, his smile showing perfect gleaming teeth. «Precisely on time.»
As the young man gestured them to the curved plastic chairs in front of his desk, a pair of slim young women stepped into the anteroom and stood on either side of the open doorway. They also wore white tunics with the blue crossed scimitars, and slacks. They too were smiling professionally.
«And you must be Mr. Richard Gorton, Esquire,» said the young man. Looking at Franklin and Nottingham, his expression grew a bit more serious. «And you gentlemen?»