Last Enemy
was depending upon hisgreater brawn to overpower his antagonist. He advanced with a sidling,spread-legged gait, his knife hand against his right hip and his lefthand extended in front. Verkan Vall nodded with pleased satisfaction;a wrist-grabber. Then he blinked. Why, the fellow was actually holdinghis knife reversed, his little finger to the guard and his thumb onthe pommel!
Verkan Vall went briskly to meet him, made a feint at his knife handwith his own left, and then side-stepped quickly to the right. AsMarnark's left hand grabbed at his right wrist, his left hand brushedagainst it and closed into a fist, with Marnark's left thumb inside ofit, He gave a quick downward twist with his wrist, pulling Marnark offbalance.
Caught by surprise, Marnark stumbled, his knife flailing wildly awayfrom Verkan Vall. As he stumbled forward, Verkan Vall pivoted on hisleft heel and drove the point of his knife into the back of Marnark'sneck, twisting it as he jerked it free. At the same time, he releasedMarnark's thumb. The politician continued his stumble and fell forwardon his face, blood spurting from his neck. He gave a twitch or so, andwas still.
Verkan Vall stooped and wiped the knife on the dead man'sclothes--another Khanga pirate gesture--and then returned it toOlirzon.
"Nice weapon, Olirzon," he said. "It fitted my hand as though I'd beenborn holding it."
"You used it as though you had, Lord Virzal," the Assassin replied."Only eight seconds from the time you closed with him."
]
The function of the hotel servants whom Klarnood had gathered up nowbecame apparent; they advanced, took the body of Marnark by theheels, and dragged it out of the way. The others watched this removalwith mixed emotions. The two remaining principals were impassive andfrozen-faced. Their two Assassins, who had probably bet heavily onMarnark, were chagrined. And Klarnood was looking at Verkan Vall witha considerable accretion of respect. Verkan Vall pulled on his bootsand resumed his clothing.
There followed some argument about the pistols; it was finally decidedthat each combatant should use his own shoulder-holster weapon. Allthree were nearly enough alike--small weapons, rather heavier thanthey looked, firing a tiny ten-grain bullet at ten thousandfoot-seconds. On impact, such a bullet would almost disintegrate; aman hit anywhere in the body with one would be killed instantly, hisnervous system paralyzed and his heart stopped by internal pressure.Each of the pistols carried twenty rounds in the magazine.
Verkan Vall and Sirzob of Abo took their places, their pistols loweredat their sides, facing each other across a measured twenty meters.
"Are you ready, gentlemen?" Klarnood asked. "You will not raise yourpistols until the command to fire; you may fire at will after it.Ready. _Fire!_"
]
Both pistols swung up to level. Verkan Vall found Sirzob's head in hissights and squeezed; the pistol kicked back in his hand, and he saw alance of blue flame jump from the muzzle of Sirzob's. Both weaponsbarked together, and with the double report came the whip-crackingsound of Sirzob's bullet passing Verkan Vall's head. Then Sirzob'sface altered its appearance unpleasantly, and he pitched forward.Verkan Vall thumbed on his safety and stood motionless, while theservants advanced, took Sirzob's body by the heels, and dragged itover beside Marnark's.
"All right; Honorable Yirzol, you're next," Verkan Vall called out.
"The Lord Virzal has fired one shot," one of the opposing secondsobjected, "and Honorable Yirzol has a full magazine. The Lord Virzalshould put in another magazine."
"I grant him the advantage; let's get on with it," Verkan Vall said.
Yirzol of Narva advanced to the firing point. He was not afraid ofdeath--none of the Akor-Neb people were; their language contained noword to express the concept of total and final extinction--anddiscarnation by gunshot was almost entirely painless. But he wasbeginning to suspect that he had made a fool of himself by gettinginto this affair, he had work in his present reincarnation which hewanted to finish, and his political party would suffer loss, both ofhis services and of prestige.
"Are you ready, gentlemen?" Klarnood intoned ritualistically. "Youwill not raise your pistols until the command to fire; you may fire atwill after it. Ready, _Fire!_"
Verkan Vall shot Yirzol of Narva through the head before the latterhad his pistol half raised. Yirzol fell forward on the splash of bloodSirzob had made, and the servants came forward and dragged his bodyover with the others. It reminded Verkan Vail of some sort ofindustrial assembly-line operation. He replaced the two expendedrounds in his magazine with fresh ones and slid the pistol back intoits holster. The two Assassins whose principals had been soexpeditiously massacred were beginning to count up their losses andpay off the winners.
Klarnood, the President-General of the Society of Assassins, cameover, hooking fingers and clapping shoulders with Verkan Vall.
"Lord Virzal, I've seen quite a few duels, but nothing quite likethat," he said. "You should have been an Assassin!"
That was a considerable compliment. Verkan Vall thanked him modestly.
"I'd like to talk to you privately," the Assassin-President continued."I think it'll be worth your while if we have a few words together."
Verkan Vall nodded. "My suite is on the fifteenth floor above; willthat be all right?" He waited until the losers had finished settlingtheir bets, then motioned to his own pair of Assassins.
* * * * *
As they emerged into the Martian Room again, the manager was waiting;he looked as though he were about to demand that Verkan Vall vacatehis suite. However, when he saw the arm of the President-General ofthe Society of Assassins draped amicably over his guest's shoulder, hecame forward bowing and smiling.
"Larnorm, I want you to put five of your best Assassins to guardingthe approaches to the Lord Virzal's suite," Klarnood told him. "I'llsend five more from Assassins' Hall to replace them at their ordinaryduties. And I'll hold you responsible with your carnate existence forthe Lord Virzal's safety in this hotel. Understand?"
"Oh, yes, Honorable Assassin-President; you may trust me. The LordVirzal will be perfectly safe."
In Verkan Vall's suite, above, Klarnood sat down and got out his pipe,filling it with tobacco lightly mixed with _zerfa_. To his surprise,he saw his host light a plain tobacco cigarette.
"Don't you use _zerfa_?" he asked.
"Very little," Verkan Vall replied. "I grow it. If you'd see the bumswho hang around our drying sheds, on Venus, cadging rejected leavesand smoking themselves into a stupor, you'd be frugal in using it,too."
Klarnood nodded. "You know, most men would want a pipe of fiftypercent, or a straight _zerfa_ cigarette, after what you've beenthrough," he said.
"I'd need something like that, to deaden my conscience, if I had oneto deaden," Verkan Vall said. "As it is, I feel like a murderer ofbabes. That overgrown fool, Marnark, handled his knife like acow-butcher. The young fellow couldn't handle a pistol at all. Isuppose the old fellow, Sirzob, was a fair shot, but dropping himwasn't any great feat of arms, either."
Klarnood looked at him curiously for a moment. "You know," he said, atlength, "I believe you actually mean that. Well, until he met you,Marnark of Bashad was rated as the best knife-fighter in Darsh. Sirzobhad ten dueling victories to his credit, and young Yirzol four." Hepuffed slowly on his pipe. "I like you, Lord Virzal; a great Assassinwas lost when you decided to reincarnate as a Venusian land-owner. I'dhate to see you discarnated without proper warning. I take it you'reignorant of the intricacies of Terran politics?"
"To a large extent, yes."
"Well, do you know who those three men were?" When Verkan Vall shookhis head, Klarnood continued: "Marnark was the son and right-handassociate of old Mirzark of Bashad, the Statisticalist Party leader.Sirzob of Abo was their propaganda director. And Yirzol of Narva wastheir leading socio-economic theorist, and their candidate forExecutive Chairman. In six minutes, with one knife thrust and twoshots, you did the Statisticalist Party an injury second only to thatdone them by the young lady in whose name you were fighting. In twoweeks, there will be a
planet-wide general election. As it stands, theStatisticalists have a majority of the seats in Parliament and on theExecutive Council. As a result of your work and the Lady Dallona's,they'll lose that majority, and more, when the votes are tallied."
"Is that another reason why you like me?" Verkan Vall asked.
"Unofficially, yes. As President-General of the Society of Assassins,I must be nonpolitical. The Society is rigidly so; if we let ourselvesbecome involved, as an organization, in politics, we could control theSystem Government inside of five years, and we'd be wiped out ofexistence in fifty years by the very forces we sought to control,"Klarnood