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Shaun Sili hefted the round, flat rock in his hand as he stared out at the vast expanse of yellow grass. As far as he could see there was nothing save himself and the flock of animals that grazed just below his rocky lookout. His planet, Sobillon, was a large one, the fourth in order around the star Aphios in the Nemo Andromedas. Its horizon stretched far, very far, but young Sean had known no other. This was home.
At length, his eyes picked out what he was seeking----a movement in the grass beyond the flock. He gave a piercing whistle, whirled about in a fast movement, and let the rock fly. It sailed in a graceful curve through the air, over the heads of the grazing animals, and Shaun whistled again as it dropped into the grass.
Immediately, the movement he'd previously noted turned into a leaping, charging animal that propelled itself right to the spot where the missile had disappeared. The young shepherd whistled again, and soon a huge, gray beast was visible, plowing through the grass like a fast ship at sea. Joyously, it jumped over the grazing herd, startling them into just the right movement along the plain that the young man had designed. Then the animal scrambled up the rocky outcrop and laid the stone at his master's feet.
Shaun bent down to retrieve it and to administer an approving pat. "Good work, Worf," he said. "Now go on back and we'll try it again."
But when the dog had vanished into the grass, Shaun sat down on a rock and dropped the missile at his feet. Let Worf take a breather, he thought. He could do with one himself. He'd been at this training project all morning and it was starting to pall. The final throw had broken his record for distance, and Worf had found it anyway and had brought it back and moved the flock to the desired distance. He had the whole thing down to a science now, and his interest was fading away.
Finding a grassy spot among the rocks, he leaned back and squinted at the sun, which was reaching its zenith. Soon he could eat. That'd be something to break the monotony. After that? Well, the afternoon stretched ahead in a desert of boredom. Nothing ever happened here. Even an attack from the savage longclaws would provide some diversion. But they only came at night, small, pack-hunting carnivores, and he and Worf between them had taken care of the last attack.
If he lay perfectly still like this, maybe he could sight another rocket like the one that had come down three days ago. He had only seen the end of its flight, as it dropped over the horizon, the roar of its engines coming after like thunder after lightning. The spaceport was too far away from him to see the ships land. Miles and miles away, and not many ships came to this out-of-the-way spot in the galaxy. His father had taken him to Daydream Port once, but in all their week's stay just one ship had touched down.
Young Shaun grew tired of staring at the sky. The sun hurt his eyes, and he rolled over and thought about food. But he was not yet truly hungry, and if he ate now, it would be that much longer till nightfall. Lying this way, with his ear close to the rock, he became aware of a faint vibration. A motorized vehicle was approaching. Likely his father coming.
He rose to his feet and scrambled up the highest boulder. He watched for several minutes before the waving grass told him that was right. A truck was pushing its way through the waist-high grass. With a sharp whistle for Worf, Shaun began to run in the direction of its approach.
It was odd for the elder Sili to come out here at this hour. For a good many years now, Shaun had been trusted with the safety of the family's livelihood, the flock of sheeplike animals. That he should arrive at this time indicated some kind of an exciting prospect. And when the boy saw the stranger with his dad, his anticipation mounted. One of his trading contacts---maybe even from that spaceship!
"Hi, Shaun!" called his father, as he alighted from the truck. "Alert as ever, I see. I've brought a visitor."
To the man climbing out after him, he made a fast introduction. "This is my son Shaun, Mr. Tristotha. Guarding the flocks as I told you. Not much gets past Shaun. He must've smelled us coming. This is Zeth Tristotha, Shaun. Off that ship you were talking about the other day, the Vulcan Adventurer. He wants to look the flock over."
The spacer approached, mopping his face with the heavy movement of a man unused to Sobillon's gravity. "You can call me Tris," he said, seizing Shaun's hand in a fast and wiry grip. "I can't stand formality. Frankly, I'm surprised that I can even stand up straight on this beastly planet. How you folks manage to eke out an existence and be happy here is beyond my comprehension."
He grinned up at the boy, and Shaun saw a small, thin, balding man with a puckish face and very sharp eyes.
"You'll get used to it," said the older Sili. "Only 1.25 Terran normal. Really no big deal."
"Yes, you're used to it. But with me just out of the ship's grav----I'd hate to have to have to do something in a hurry!"
The colonist laughed. "You should've been with us on Sarvis Q73B. We started out there. It's about top tolerance, you know, and Shaun's mother couldn't take it. Got real sick when he was born. That's why we moved here a few years later. This place is a pleasure to work in after that."
"Well, it's a matter of opinion, Ottos." Zeth Tristotha's dislike of formality had already led him to first-name his host. "But I can see it doesn't bother your animals. What-do-you-call 'ems?" Can we get down for a closer look?"
"Right down here," said Ottos Sili, leading the way between the rocks. "Heronitus, that's the local handle. I wouldn't bother you with the scientific jargon. Bring the flock back this way, Shaun. Where's Worf got to now? Can't expect Mr. Tristotha to run after the animals."
"Whenever you think of me, just call me Tris!" repeated the visitor. "They seem pretty well adapted. What'd you do? Develop a native type or mutate the genes?"
"Well now, our local scientists have been working on it for as long as the planet's been colonized. Done pretty well, I think, but there's always room for improvement. So they say. We're pretty well satisfied, aren't we, Shaun? Just feel the wool. Beats anything you've come across before, I'll bet."
"Well.....hmmmm! I won't say there's anything thin about it." Tris ran his hands through the thick wool of the stocky animal that Shaun was holding. "Yessir! Mighty pretty. And the animals look healthy. Adapted to super-grav! Must be producing all right, from the size of the herd. Tell you what____ I might be able to swing a deal with a planet where I trade. Big one like this. Heavy grav. They haven't developed a suitable domestic yet, so they'll probably jump at something like this, and pay a lot for a shipment of embryos."
"Gee, I dunno. You'll have to take that up with the lab people. I'm sure they'll be glad of the newdollars. All I'm selling is wool."
"Tell you what. You put in a good word for me at the lab and I'll make you a good offer for the wool. How much you got ready to ship?"
The two men were moving tack towards the truck, the elder Sili towering over the trader, slowing his steps to match the other's pace. They talked prices and shipments as they went, and Shaun followed hopefully behind. Maybe he'd be permitted to deliver the wool to the spaceport. Maybe get a look inside the ship this time. He was wondering if he darted suggest it to the spacer now, when that individual stopped and looked back at the flock spread out across the plain.
"How're you fixed for predators?" he demanded. "Do they use those horns for defense? As I recall, there's some pretty nasty customers on that planet I mentioned."
"I can't say we're bothered much here. We leave that problem up to Shaun and his dog. Show him how you've trained Worf, son."
Happy to be called to the trader's attention, Shaun let out his strange whistle. Almost right away the grass erupted on the far side of the flock and shook with a moving ripple as Worf made his way exuberantly to his master's call.
"It's just a dog," Tristotha began. "He looks strong enough, true. But some of those planets have really murderous beasts to contend with."
"Ah, but Worf and Shaun work as a team. Very little gets past those two."
"Want to see how I trained him, sir---Tris? asked the boy. "He's very smart. He learned right away. Watch this!"
Shaun selected a suitable stone and flung it out beyond the flock. In a well-aimed arc, it flew to its target. Out, out, beyond the farthest heronitus. Before it hit the ground, Worf was racing towards the spot, but as he nosed around for the fallen rock, Shaun gave two quick blasts and the dog, responding to command, came charging back, herding in the straying animals as he came, nipping at their heels. And when they were once more properly bunched, he climbed over their backs to reach his master and the praise that would be his.
"What do you think of that?" demanded Ottos Sili. "Pretty smart dog, isn't he? Pretty smart boy to train the dog?"
Father and son looked at their guest for reaction, and found him staring at them with his mouth open.
"What kind of a thing did you throw, boy?" asked Tristotha.
"Just a rock. Like ____ like this!"
Shaun searched around for a moment and came up with another.
"Let's see it," said the trader, and hefted it in his hand. "Great space, it must weigh a ton! Do it again!" And he gave a closer look at the young man, who, although approaching his father's height, still had the delicate, stringy build of youth.
Once again Shaun threw the rock, this time towards a secondary group of straying animals on the perimeter of the herd. Once again Worf tore away after it and returned when the beasts had been rounded up.
"Got it down pat, hasn't he?" asked Ottos. "I tell you, there's no problem in herding these animals. Not around here, anyway."
With the prospect of a good sale for his wool and even something for the lab people tossed in, Ottos Sili turned away towards the truck. What his visitor said next brought him to a halt before he reached it.
"Son, if I was to throw one of those rocks, it'd come down right in the middle of the herd. Likely conk one of the animals on the head."
"Oh, that's just the gravity," said the colonist. "When you got used to it, you'd be able to do better."
"Can you do better?" the trader fired at him. "Let's you heave one of those things over there. Get him on the right size, Shaun."
"Hold it, friend! I haven't thrown rocks since I was a kid...." began Ottos."
"Oh, come on now! Prove to me it's only the gravity. You're adapted to that, too, you know."
Reluctantly, the elder Sili turned to humor his guest. He couldn't afford to let anything spoil the pending sale! Nothing! But he turned his back on the flock before he threw, for he would take no chance of hitting one of his own valued animals.
As the rock whizzed off into the grass, Worf looked at young Shaun and whined expectantly. Why were rocks being thrown where there was no flock and no commanding whistle? Shaun reached down and gave him a reassuring pet. He could see that his father would no longer make a good shepherd.
But Tris was pounding them both on the back in odd enthusiasm.
"I knew it!" he cried. "I knew it! Your throw, Ottos, is just a little better than I could do. Because of your gravity adaptation, as you said. But this young man! He's a phenomenon! I'll bet he can out-throw anyone in this section of the Nemo Andromedas. Why, all the time you've been training your dog, he's really been training you! Ever thought about that, Shaun?"
"No, not really. That is, I don't quite see...."
"Here!" Tris commanded, pressing yet another stone into Shaun's hand. "Throw it again. Once again, just to humor an old man, eh?"
"As you wish, sir."
Shaun stepped back a pace, swung his arm, and threw the rock---even farther than the previous missiles!
"Beautiful! Beautiful! The lad's got form. With a little training! Ummmm!" The trader put his fingers to his lips and blew kisses at the passing clouds. "Ottos, my friend, you have something here more valuable than all your wool or all the embryos that lab may produce----if you get my drift."
He stopped and smiled, for Shaun and his father were both staring in quite evident bewilderment.
"He's a good boy," began the father hesitantly. "He always does what he's told. Never went to sleep on duty yet."
"All that doesn't matter," Tristotha told him. "That's of secondary importance. What you've got here is a potential champion. And I'm not talking about the rains down there. Ever hear of the Olympiad?"
"The what?! No, I haven't. You're pulling my leg, Tristotha. Come along now and let's strike a bargain."
"Oh, I'll bargain all right. I'll pay double your price if you want. I'll develop a big market for your embryos. I'll do anything you want---if you'll give me just one thing."
"What?" Ottos Sili began to think he was dealing with some kind of a lunatic.
"Give me---your son."
Ottos looked at him him, more puzzled now than ever.
"You mean, you want the boy to go along to take care of the sheep---that is, the wool---or the embryos---or what?"
"Galactica, no! I want him to come along and throw. Not rocks. I'll show you what we throw. It's a thing called a discus. Made to specs, so there's no difference in size, shape, or weight. I've got one in my pack. Let me show you."
"Dad, I remember about the Olympiad now. From that history tape at school." Shaun began to recite in a singsong of rote learning. "Then came the Greeks in art supreme. In minds and bodies strong and clean. With laurel wreath and sacred flame. For victors at the Olympic Games."
"Now that you mention it, I guess I've heard of it, too. But that was a long time ago. Back before space history."
"It's history in the making now. Ever hear of a planet called Pevoria? In the Zemalla Sector? There's been a lot of controversy about who held jurisdiction. Favorable climate, but inadequate minerals. Little of commercial value. A pleasant spot to live but hardly self-supporting. Well, the latest agreement is to keep it for the tourist trade, a kind of unspoiled vacation paradise, and every so often they're planning to hold these Olympiads. Athletic meets reminiscent of those ancient Greeks you just mentioned. They had the first one three years ago. It was a great success. There's another one coming up now, and I believe that if I can collect enough likely athletes in this sector, we can have a team to represent us. There won't be any planets out this far ready to send their own team for awhile yet. But with me to drum up interest and get 'em together on a sector team____ Well, what do you say? I'll line up some more all along my trade route and we'll hit Pevoria in time for the next major event."
Shaun and his father still looked unconvinced. They clearly were.
"But I don't know anything about athletics or games or anything like that!" Shaun protested.
"You will by the time I'm through with you," said the trader. "I figure on training my boys along the way."
"You're gonna teach him how to throw in a spaceship"" cried Ottos Sili.
"Oh, come now, Ottos! I don't need to teach your son to throw. He can do that better than anybody already. It's merely a matter of building up his strength and physique and you don't need a lot of room to do that in. I've studied it. You'll see. I aim to be the supreme coach before I'm finished."
"Well....." began Ottos Sili, scratching his head. "I've never in all my life heard of anything like it!"
"Of course, he'll have to perform under a handicap." Tristotha squinted at the far horizon as he figured out the odds. "Anyone raised in this gravity will be able to throw beyond all belief in normal grav. But you do so well here that I figure it'll be no problem. You wait to you see how far you can pitch that thing on Pevoria, kid. It'll blow your mind."
"Did I say he could go?!" roared the elder Sili. "I haven't even heard him express an opinion. What do you think, Shaun? We'd miss you to blazes here, but I guess we could put the flock in with our neighbor's. You're sure he'll come back from this expedition, Tris?"
"Don't we come back every season, sure as a comet's flyby? Of course he'll come back, and he'll come back famous. He'll put this planet on the galactic map. And I'll promise you something more. He'll learn more than you can ever imagine from this little excursion."
Ottos Sili looked at his son. "What do you think, Shaun? We'll have to ask your mother, of course, but I know she'll leave it up to you. How do you feel?"
Shaun stared off across the waving grass, where nothing ever happened, except for a couple of rockets in a season. One rocket had brought this amazing man to him. This trader wo could find his way about the stars. And Shaun realized then that more than anything else he wanted to go with him. If throwing a rock would get him the chance.....
Then another thought intruded.
"What about Worf?" he asked. "I'd have to take Worf with me."
It was the trader's turn to show surprise. "Worf?"
"His dog," the father explained. "They're what you might call inseparable."
"If it weren't for Worf, I wouldn't know how to throw at all," Shaun argued. "It was training him....no, I don't think I could go without Worf, Mr. Tris. I just couldn't do it."
Tristotha stared at the boy and saw the stubborn set of his jaw. 555Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxm0B9lnxKw
"I can't think of what the dog'll do in space. But, heck, if I gotta take him to get you, I'll take you both. Trader's handshake, son. And I'll meet your price for the wool, Ottos. Right now you could get anything you wanted out of me! I can't wait till the crowd on Pevy sees this boy throw! We're gonna be famous, kiddo! Our name on every wavelength. You'll see. Shaun Sili! Olympiad Hero!"
"What I don't see," Shaun's father growled, "is what all this does for you. Where do you come into it, Tristotha?"
"Why, I am the scout who discovered him! I'm reviving an ancient and honorable profession. I'm not just an ordinary space trader anymore. I'm Scout Tristotha, for the Pevonian Games."
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