Used the machine. There was a fragment of an idea in that phrase. Something nebulous, that must be approached carefully or it will fade away. Used the machine ... used it ... Leoh toyed with the phrase for a few moments, then gave it up with a sigh of resignation. Lord, I’m too tired even to think.
Leoh focused his attention on his surroundings and scanned the busy dining room. It was a beautiful place, really; decorated with crystal and genuine woods and fabric draperies. Not a synthetic in sight. The waiters and cooks and busboys were humans, not the autocookers and servers that most restaurants employed. Leoh suddenly felt touched at Hector’s attempt to restore his spirits—even if it was being done at Star Watch expense.
He saw the young Watchman approaching the table, coming back from the phone. Hector bumped two waiters and stumbled over a chair before reaching the relative safety of his own seat.
“What’s the verdict?” Leoh asked.
Hector’s lean face was bleak. “Couldn’t revive him. Cerebral hemorrhage, the meditechs said—induced by shock.”
“Shock?”
“That’s what they said. Something must’ve, uh, overloaded his nervous system ... I guess.”
Leoh shook his head. “I just don’t understand any of this. I might as well admit it. I’m no closer to an answer now than I was when I arrived here. Perhaps I should have retired years ago, before the dueling machine was invented.”
“Nonsense.”
“No, I mean it,” Leoh said. “This is the first real intellectual puzzle I’ve had to contend with in years. Tinkering with machinery ... that’s easy. You know what you want, all you need is to make the machinery perform properly. But this ... I’m afraid I’m too old to handle a real problem like this.”