x
As opening day approached, excitement on Pevoria increased and more and more visitors poured into the sporting area.
Tris felt that his athletes must by now be adapted to the environment, and he increased their training time accordingly. No more morning walks across the bay. Each member would report to his training field both morning and afternoon.
"I'll see that you get your share of the time, never fear. You'll be seeing more of the other competitors, so mind you remember that we're all sportsmen together." The only ones who were kept on the earlier routine were the two swimmers. "Best you continue to train in the late hours, where you won't be seen so much," he told Vesh. "I'm saving you as a kind of surprise. But continue the morning exercises to keep in condition. And no wandering off! No experiments or explanations or fancy eating!"
This last was aimed at Skem, whose appetite always seemed to outrun the prescribed diet. "But practice in that pool's no good," Vesh complained. "It's too small to even get going. I haven't hit my top speed once. Couldn't we swim in the ocean? There's nobody there."
"The pool's where you'll be racing, so the pool's where you'll train. You must try to make the turns quicker. But don't you worry. I've checked the opposition and there's not a one of them who can match you." "If only they had a marathon for swimming," she sighed, for she had seen the marathon racers training along the bay. "Out to those islands and back."
"Well, they don't. And don't you go thinking about those islands or the ocean. What if you got drowned? There would go my swimming team."
"You just think of us as team," she complained. "Not as people at all, Mr. Tris. I've been swimming all my life in oceans bigger than this. And nothing every happened to me."
"Young lady, we're talking about a different ocean and a different planet. It all makes for a different environment."
Between the activities of his swimmers, who practiced at night and had to be watched during the day, and his other athletes, who had to be coached and clocked in the daytime hours. Zeth Tristotha was kept busy dashing from one set of fields and buildings to another.
Maybe if the question of Shaun's handicap had not burgeoned into a major argument, he would not have been forced to leave his swimmers unsupervised for so long a time. But when judges came around to watch the discus throwers and to assign distances, they took one look at Shaun's performance and gave him the farthest throwing box. Tris immediately protested.
"Come, come gentlemen. You've got him six points farther than any other contestant. And we all know that Pevoria is only 1.25 Earth G."
"Is that so?" said the referee from Pevoria, who plainly did not like to have his decision disputed. "I'd have thought it was more like 1.5."
"Don't kid me," growled Tris. "If it was 1.5, you know it would never have been colonized."
"All we want is to even things out a bit," said the second referee. "Well, even it out in a logical manner. You've got the boy from Earth at the standard pitch. Fine. And Number Ten there, from a light gray, is three paces ahead. And then you move back away from the heavier gray. Number Seven, from 1.1 G, is 3 paces back, and Number Five, from 1.15, is 6 paces back. But then you jump all the way to 12 paces back, with 3 stations in between, and that's where put my man! And only 1.25 G for his world!"
"Only!" cried the 1st referee. "I'd find it hard to walk on a planet like that. And look how he pitches that thing."
"You'd walk all right. I've been there and I've done it. And he throws well because he's been at it for a long time."
The argument dragged on for some time, but at last it was agreed that the box assigned to Shaun was only for extreme cases and he was advanced to a point nine paces behind standard. Even so, he was throwing from well behind his competitors and keeping up with them easily.
While this decision was in the making, the two swimmers were sitting on a convenient rock at the beach's edge, resting from their training and looking disconsolately at the sea.
"After all," said Skem, "he didn't really make me promise not to go in the water. It was you he was fussing about."
"That's because you haven't argued. He knows your weakness is eating."
"But why couldn't we at least get our feet wet?"
"Because then we'd want to get the rest of us wet. One thing leads to another."
"Somehow, this isn't as much fun as I'd thought it would be," sighed the boy, and was shocked to hear a voice behind him say:
"Not fun? On Pevoria---the fun planet?"
They turned to see the young man standing between them. He was gorgeously attired in their estimation, in many-colored velvet tights and a cloak that shimmered like their beloved sea. The costume was designed with an artistry more sophisticated and intricate than anything either of them had seen, even in the elegant upper sections of their underwater city. Brother and sister stared, feeling like uncouth provincials.
"I believe you're both competitors in our glorious Olympiad," began the stranger. "I see you running up and down the beach. Why is it that you do not practice at the training fields?"
"OH, there's not room for everyone at the same time," said Skem.
His sister nudged him. "We each have our assigned times for practice, but our team arrived late on Pevoria, and we need to put in every minute. We were just having a brief rest."
She got up with the obvious intention of moving on, but Skem didn't budge. He was too fascinated, taking in every aspect of the Pevorian's appearance. The man had a little pointed beard. His hair curled artfully about his face and the line of his eyebrows had been subtly extended in a curved, masklike outline. He held a velvet hat with trailing plumes, and he was now swept this back upon his head.
"May I walk along with you a little?" he asked. "I am so happy to make the acquaintance of young people from other planets. Which one is your planet, if I may ask?"
"Droth!" cried Skem in a surge of pride. "You know---the Waterworld!"
"Ah, then you must be swimmers. I've heard of that planet and often thought of visiting it. But a waterworld!" he shuddered slightly. "What do you do when you want some good, firm ground under your feet?"
"You don't," said Skem. "I've had enough ground under my feet to last a long time!"
"Skem!" Vesh cautioned. And then to the stranger: "We're not supposed to go near the ocean until after the Games. It gets a little boring."
"You would like to go out on a boat?" asked the young man. "But that's easily arranged."
"Not until after the Games," Vesh was firm. "Those are our orders."
"But then at least you can take some refreshment with me. I insist. You see that house down at the curve of the bay? It serves the best seafood. To eat it is to be in paradise!"
"Seafood!" cried Skem. "Something better than the Village slop!"
"No, Skem! I won't have it!"
But Skem was already on his way, walking quickly toward the curve of the bay. The young man, apparently despairing of Vesh, was ready to content himself with Skem. He put his arm familiarly about the boy's shoulders and began to talk about Pevoria's native seafoods. Vesh found there was nothing she could do but run after them.
"I wonder if your fish are anything like ours," the stranger was saying. "Most of them have a rosy hue, but they say that may come from the luminosity of our atmosphere. We're right in the middle of the cloudy nebula here, you know."
"Yeah, we've seen the sunsets," said Vesh, catching up at last. After all, if Skem was going to run off this way, it was better for her to be with him. And a little taste of seafood could hardly kill them. She was pretty tired of the athletes' rations, too.
The young man seemed to accept her change of heart as quite natural. He chattered on the friendliest fashion, describing life on his planet and asking discreet questions about theirs. When he had steered them to a table in the tiny restaurant, he started discussing what they might order.
"We've got a deep-sea shellfish that's especially tasty," he said. "I understand that on Earth such fish are called clams. But since ours our very sweet, we call them swams. I suggest we start with them."
Vesh felt her mouth water, and she saw that Skem's eyes were taking on that certain look.
"Well, OK," she said. "It's awfully good of you. We'll try some of them. But that's absolutely all. Our coach will be very angry if he finds out, and we've got to eat our regular supper when we return."
So their host ordered the swams, and since this was all they were going to eat. Skem didn't object when offered a second helping. The food turn out to be as delicious as the young man had promised, and soon they were talking and laughing as though they had known each other for a long time.
The young man said that his name was Drayk. He was so happy to make the acquaintance of two of the athletes, and hoped that he would see them again soon.
"I'm not allowed in your Village, you know," he said. "But I'll be cheering for you in the stadium, and after the Games are over, I hope you'll let me show you the more interesting points of Pevoria."
He was not especially interested in the swimming events, though he admitted that natives of Pevoria were sure to take all the prizes. What really interested him were some of the track events, where the outcome was likely to be close.
"I heard that your team's got a wonderful discus thrower."
The two swimmers looked at each other and laughed. "You mean Shaun Sili," said the girl. "We've got him to thank for our being here."
"Oh, then you know him. How fortunate! Could you---would you maybe introduce me? I should dearly love to watch his technique."
"Gee, we're not supposed to," started Skem. "Maybe you're a friend of another team and they want to know how he does it."
"Skem!" cried Vesh, in a futile effort to control her brother's rudeness. "Excuse my brother, but he's right, you know. We should not even be here."
"Trust me," the young man assured them. "I've got no connection with the other teams. It saddens me to that you should think such a thing! I'm simply delighted to be able to speak to any of the alien athletes. And if I could add a discus thrower to my list---in addition to two wonderful swimmers...!"
Vesh and Skem exchanged glances and then their eyes fell to the feast of seafood which they were rapidly demolishing. There seemed to be nothing sinister about this generous, appreciative companion.
"Well," began Vesh slowly, "he should be done with his regular training period by now. But he comes down on the beach to practice very late in the day. Back there where there aren't any people."
"In that case, do you think I....or we....would he mind so much if we watched? That is, if you've both had all I can offer you in the way of generosity."
There was something nearly pathetic about the handsome stranger's desire to watch the visiting athletes in action. Vesh looked from him to her brother and then to her well-cleaned plate. She felt rebellion mounting inside he. Rules or no rules, she could not be boorish to this young man who had been so good to them.
"I really don't see what harm it could do," she said. "And I'm sure Shaun would be happy to meet you. Come along, Skem. Surely you can't get anything more off that plate."
"Take a few of my fish cakes with you, kid," said their new friend, pushing his almost untouched dish towards the boy.
They all moved towards the door, where their guide paused to drop an assortment of coins onto the cashier's tray.
"I trust you found our little collection to your liking," he said, as they walked down the beach. "They do this kind of thing rather well in the beachside resorts. But for real elegance in dining, you gotta let me conduct you on a tour after your labors are ended."
Presently, the found Shaun in the next cove, doggedly working on his stance and throwing technique before the approaching night would put an end to his practice. While he paused for rest, Vesh introduced him to their friend. There followed the usual explanations about Worf and his uses in discus training and about Shaun's home planet, Sobillon.
"Ah yes, you come from the heavy-grav planet," said the visitor. "I heard about you this morning. They expect you to break records."
"I don't know about that," Shaun objected. "This is my first Olympics. It's all new to me."
"I suppose you know that the victor in the last Games was our own man, Roberd. He set what was considered an unbeatable record. But he's worried now. He's seen you throw."
Shaun picked up his discus and moved off, preparing to throw, but the stranger followed him.
"Stay where you are!" said the athlete. "It's dangerous to come closer. This thing can go off at odd angles."
"Just a word with you. The young man followed him stubbornly. "In private, if you don't mind. Before you make the toss."
The two were now some distance from Skem and Vesh, who looked curiously after them, hesitating to go any nearer and disturb the thrower's aim.
The stranger pitched his voice to a whisper and Shuan replied in kind so that he two swimmers could not hear the conversation.
"What do you think he wants?" asked Skem.
"I don't know," Skem frowned. "Maybe we shouldn't have brought him. Interrupting Shaun's practice when there's only one day left!"
"He was going to stop anyhow," said her brother. "he's just showing off now."
Vesh started to shush the boy, but an outburst from their old friend turned their attention to the two on the darkening beach.
"No! No! Never!" Shaun shouted. And then he threw the discus, but not a beautiful, soaring pitch. He threw it violently into the sand, as if it were the only outlet for his smoldering anger.
"And you, get out! OUT!"
He went on yelling in unrestrained fury at the Pevorian even after the man had retreated down the beach. Skem and Vesh hastened to his side.
"What's wrong?" cried the boy. "Did he do something?"
"He seemed like such a nice young man," Vesh began.
"Nice!" cried Shaun. "Do you know what he wanted? What he thought I'd be willing to do?" And as they both looked at him open-mouthed, he went on. "He was trying to bribe me! He wanted me to---to agree to lose! To make a bum throw just so that---that----Roberd friend of his could win!"
"Why, I can't believe it!" Vesh began. "Why, that's----that's....."
"How much would he give you?" asked Skem practically.
"Who cares? There's not enough money in the universe to buy me off!"
"Fifty thousand!" called Drayk, who was waiting at a distance. "Don't talk about it. Just think about it. I'll be seeing you."
Shaun turned his back and started walking away.
"He said it wouldn't matter if a little, primitive planet like Sobillon had a winner, but with this Pevoria, he said----he said there was a great deal of money riding on him!" She seemed to run out of words.
Vesh put her hand on his arm. "Don't let it worry you. You said no. There's nothing more he can do."
But they saw the man waiting in the shadows, as if he knew that the lure of money must work in his favor. Skem whistled. "I didn't think anyone had that much money to toss around!"
On an impulse, the boy bent down, picked up a stone and threw it in the direction of the waiting Drayk. At the same time he shouted to Worf.
"Skem!" Vesh jumped to stop him. "He must paid for our meal! You can't!"
"I wasn't going to hit him!" said Skem. "I wanted Worf to do that."
Even as they spoke, the dog was careening down the beach after the missile. The stone landed just short of the shocked gambler, and Worf came thundering after it, ramming into the man like a misguided rocket and knocking him unceremoniously to the ground.
Skem and Vesh started running, but Drayk had picked himself up before they reached him. He was angrily brushing the sand from his elegant clothes by the time the two arrived.
"I'm so sorry," began Vesh. "My brother does not have very good manners."
"The dog just couldn't stop himself," Shaun explained. "He wasn't attacking, I assure you."
He called to Wolf, who was barking and jumping, excited by the anger that he sensed all around him.
"It's okay. I understand," said Drayk in a strained voice. "I knew I'd undertaken a tough assignment when I agreed to approach aliens from the outer colonies. Still, I hardly expected----I hardly envisaged anything quite like this. An offer's an offer. To be accepted or rejected." He shook the sand out of his improbable hat and with a flourish replaced it on his head. "I knew there'd be trouble when they agreed to admit these new teams!" He grumbled as he turned on his heel and stalked off into the dusk.
The 3 off-planet athletes walked soberly towards the Village with Worf bringing up the rear. On the way, interspersed with many apologies for having brought the man to see him, Skem told Shaun about her own experience.
"He seemed so nice at the time," she wailed. "How was I supposed to know?"
"You couldn't have," Shaun consoled her gloomily. "I guess Tris was right when he said not to speak to anybody."
"Do we have to tell him about all this?" demanded Skem, who was starting to think how his prank might look to the coach."
"Maybe we shouldn't," said Vesh.
"It'd only worry him," Shaun agreed. "Two days before the Games, he's got enough on his plate right now."371Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlRVX4ISVYW
By the time the trio had entered the Village mess hall, they had decided that silence was the best polity. Even so, they soon attracted the interest of their coach, for the two swimmers found it impossible to eat with their usual appetite. Skem especially was well known for his ability to put away food, and when Vesh noted that he was just pushing it around his plate, he came over at once.
"What's wrong, lad?" he asked. "Space got your appetite?"
"I'm just not hungry that's all," Skem muttered.
At the end of the table, Hates pricked up his ears.
"What's eatin' ya, kiddo?"
"It's not what's eating him, I'd guess. "It's what he's been eating," Tris said. "Galactica! Do I have to keep after all of you at the same time?"
The whole table was staring at Skem now. It seemed to Shaun that the boy did look a little green about the gills, but that was no more than he felt himself. In fact, he wondered if he'd ever feel like eating again. Of course, he' d known that things like this went on, but he never dreamed that it could happen to him. The awesome wonder of the Space Olympiad, with traditions going back beyond the age of space flight, now seemed somehow to be tarnished. He thought of young Roberd, standing straight and lean, tossing the discus with such perfect form. Only this morning he'd appeared the model of all athletes. And now this young poppinjay had smeared him with his insinuations: "There's a great deal of money riding on thatboy."
Still, perhaps Roberd.didn't know. Suppose there was money bet on him, Shaun Sili? There was nothing he could do to prevent it. It was in the nature of things that men would gamble. But to expect him to sell the outcome! To peddle his possible victory! Shaun felt his stomach turn over as it had done when the man had made his first proposal.
He looked across at Skem. The boy was staring at his plate. At the end of the table, Vesh was trying to explain to Tris.
"But it was a first-class restaurant. That fancy place near the wharf. We only had a dish of something called swams. I at them, too, and I feel fine."
At the mention of the seafood, Skem seemed to reach the breaking point. "I don't feel so good," he muttered. And then he pushed back his chair and ran from the room.
Hates heaved himself to his feet and went after him, with Vesh and Zeth close behind.
"We have to remember that one man's swam is another man's bane," said Tris. "He's still but a lad and not yet a week on this planet."
Skem was making a bee-line for his hut, but he didn't reach it. Halfway there he passed in the shadow of a bush and bent over, retching violently. Hates caught up with him there and scooped him up in his arms. The wrestler carried the boy into the room the two shared and deposited him gently on his bed.
"Now just you take it easy," the huge man commanded. "You got rid of the worst of it. You'll soon be fit as a fiddle."
"Where's that Village healer?" demanded the trader. "No, you stay here with him, Vesh. I'll be able to get action faster."
Skem lay with his face to the wall, his breath coming in deep sobs. "I'll miss the Games!" he cried. "The blasted space louse! The blasted louse, he poisoned me!"
"Who says you'll miss the Games!" Hates shouted. "The boy's out of his head. What's he talking about, Vesh?"
The girl put a cool hand on her brother's forehead. "You mustn't talk like that. He didn't mean it, I'm sure. You're not adjusted yet to the new food. Lie still now till Tris brings the healer.
She knew they were looking at her, and that sometime she'd have a lot of explaining to do. For Tris especially. But now she was too scared even to look at the faces peering in the door.
Outside in the corridor, Shaun lingered. He felt he was going through much the same agonies as Skem, but for different reasons. And the 2 people with whom he might have discussed it and lightened his load were cut off from him now.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
