n, when Leoh was satisfied that the machine could reproduce and
amplify thought patterns with strict fidelity, they began to fight
light duels. The fenced with blunted foils--Hector won, of course,
because of his much faster reflexes. Then they tried other
weapons--pistols, sonic beams, grenades--but always wearing protective
equipment. Strangely, even though Hector was trained in the use of
these weapons, Leoh won almost all the bouts. He was neither faster
nor more accurate, when they were target-shooting. But when the two of
them faced each other, somehow Leoh almost always won.

_The machine project more than thoughts_, Leoh told himself. _It
projects personality._

They worked in the dueling machine day and night now, enclosed in the
booths for twelve or more hours a day, driving themselves and the
machine's regular staff to near-exhaustion. When they gulped their
meals, between duels, they were physically ragged and sharp-tempered.
They usually fell asleep in Leoh's office, while discussing the
results of the day's work.

The duels grew slowly more serious. Leoh was pushing the machine to
its limits now, carefully extending the rigors of each bout. And yet,
even though he knew exactly what and how much he intended to do in
each fight, it often took a conscious effort of will to remind
himself that the battles he was fighting were actually imaginary.

As the duels became more dangerous, and the artificially-amplified
hallucinations began to end in blood and death, Leoh found himself
winning more and more frequently. With one part of his mind he was
driving to analyze the cause of his consistent success. But another
part of him was beginning to really enjoy his prowess.

The strain was telling on Hector. The physical exertion of constant
work and practically no relief was considerable in itself. But the
emotional effects of being "hurt" and "killed" repeatedly were
infinitely worse.

"Perhaps we should stop for a while," Leoh suggested after the fourth
day of tests.

"No, I'm all right."

Leoh looked at him. Hector's face was haggard, his eyes bleary.

"You've had enough," Leoh said quietly.

"Please don't make me stop," Hector begged. "I ... I can't stop now.
Please give me a chance to do better. I'm improving ... I lasted twice
as long in this afternoon's two duels as I did in the ones this
morning. Please, don't end it now ... not while I'm completely lost--"

Leoh stared at him, "You want to go on?