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The healer held out scant hopes that Skem would be back in condition for the swimming competition, and none at all that he would appear in the opening parade. Shaun would have liked to sit out that first day with him, but was unceremoniously kicked out of the boy's room by Hates, who claimed that if anyone stayed home with him, it must be his roommate.
Shaun allowed himself to be led away by Vesh, who looked him over with a critical eye to be sure he was wearing his uniform right.
"Don't you think I'd prefer to stay with him, too?" she said. "But we can't all miss the parade. There's few enough of us as it is to represent our group of planets."
"I'm glad someone has the sense to see this straight," growled the trader. "There's nothing really wrong with the boy but a case of space tummy. I warned all of you against it, but he had to do things his way. Now hurry on, everyone, so we don't miss our place in the lineup."
With waving banners from many planets, the great gathering of athletes fell into line for the march. Excitement was in the air, with spectators streaming to their seats in the stadium. The Pevorian Governor and his officers took their places in the stands, and proclaimed the Games open. As the trumpets sounded and the music pounded in his ears, Shaun felt his doubts and discouragement of the past 48 hours fall away. This was the most exciting event of his life! This was the Olympiad, and no amount of underhanded better and trickery could cloud up the honor of taking part in this ancient and glorious tradition!
When his turn came to move out, he raised their banner high. They had promised Skem that he could carry it, but now Shaun must substitute. The flag had a black field, the color of deep space, and on it were arranged symbols of the 6 planets represented by the team. A big rock in the upper corner symbolized Sobillon's heavy gravity, and opposite, a few wavy lines suggested the waves and fishes of Vesh's water planet. Three stars halfway down the field were the 3 brothers from Tafon, while the two doves across from it symbolized the 2 girls from Vamlok. And Zineon, the home planet of Merl and Jan-o, lying in the outer region of comets, was symbolized by one of those. In the middle of the flag gleamed a golden crown, the sign of the Vulcan Adventurer.
As their contingent came through the gates into the stadium, Shaun heard for the first time the roar of the crowd. There were shouts and cries, and waves of applause swept over sections of the audience as the different contingents swept past.
"Yeah! Yeah! Caphus!"
"The Isarvians! Hey, there. Good luck!"
"There goes the team from Earth!"
Everyone on Pevoria seemed to compete for the flashiest costumes, the gayest, most striking attire. The stands were dazzling with color. Again and again Shaun had to tear his eyes away, to quit staring at the spectators and put his mind on what he was doing. He must keep the distance right. Keep in line and in step, with his flag pointing at the right angle. They were passing the reviewing stand now, and in the welter of sound, he heard a voice speak distinctly in his ear.
"Gods be with you, Shaun Sili!"
He turned his head for thirty seconds and thought he saw a bald head with a crown of strange dark hair. V'gon Tacbian? He snapped his eyes back to attention and dipped the flag at the precise moment that he passed the Governor.
Then they were past the stand and being pelted with flowers by a group of children in the lower benches beyond. They marched to the seats reserved for athletes and took their places to watch the ceremony of the eternal torch and the raising of the Olympiad flags. At last it was over, and they joined the milling crowd pouring out of the stadium. The trader's team went back to their quarters and regaled Skem and Hates with descriptions of the event. The wrestler looked wistful as each topped the next with stories of the day's experiences.
"I told you to go without me, Hates!" cried Skem. "Look what you missed!"
"If I could have believed that," said Hates. "But it would have ended by my going with you!"
"All right!" Tris interrupted. "Enough is enough. You're to eat carefully from now on. Walk slowly---I want no twisted ankles. And everyone to bed early. You all know your programs. Just be at your posts in good time.
Tomorrow the real work would start.
And start it did. The Olympiad Council seemed bent on cramming as many competitions into each day as the hours of light would permit. The many athletes who had come from all over the Galaxy and the variety of events in which they took part made it necessary to conduct simultaneous contests. The spectators could watch swimming in the beautiful Olympiad pool or track events on any of several fields, or team games in one of the special stadiums.
The swimming competitions were the first to be competed, unfortunately for Skem, who found that his scheduled events were decided by the time he was sufficiently recovered to take to the water.
"Better luck next time," Tris told him. "There'll be many more Olympiads for you, and no doubt of your winning. Now come and watch your sister rake in the prizes."
Cold comfort, but Skem blinked back his disappointment and followed the coach to the stands around the pool where the women's events were in progress.
And Vesh didn't let them down. The young woman from Droth burst upon the astonished spectators like a comet from deep space. No other swimmer could match her. She swept up the prizes, as easily in the short dashes as in the longer races: 100-meter, 200-meter, 400-meter. And when it came to the 1500-meter freestyle, she just ran away with the show. In her imagination, Vesh was swimming once more in the oceans of her beloved water planet. Only in this pool there were no waves or storms to impede her progress. As she had chased the water snakes and pursued her elusive Coari, so now she shot through the water with effortless grace and lightning turns to win the prize while all others were several laps behind.
As she climbed dripping from the pool, the applause thundered down around her, and the other swimmers plowed stubbornly back and forth to determine who should capture the lesser rewards. Skem ran out from the stands and hugged her, oblivious of the water that splashed over his shorts and jumper.
"You won, Sis! You won four times!"
"You should have won, too!" she gasped, as the photo-bulbs flashed and a frantic group of reporters tried to ask questions. "Oh, you poor baby. Are you feeling all right?"
"Yes, and I'm not a baby!"
Vesh let herself be led away by the proctors, hoping that nobody had noted her exchange with her brother. When he was crossed, there was no telling what Skem might do.
She found herself wondering whether Drayk was in the crowd and what he might think of her victory. He had said that he had little interest in the swimming competitions, which meant, she now realized, that he had nothing bet on them. Like Shaun, she felt a dark chasm of evil opening before her at this hint of machinations behind the scenes, and as she marched past the stands, she thought she recognized a face from the corner of her eye. Two faces, Drayk and Jan-o? She told herself that she was imagining things.
When she stood on the pedestal between the two lesser swimmers, saw her planet's banner being hoisted aloft, and heard the shouts and applause of the crowd, she forgot all about it. She saw the bright starburst medal in the Director's hand as he hung it about her neck, and wondered how she would find the strength to walk away from this moment.
But somehow she did, and made her way through the crowds and the reporters to the dressing rooms where she could receive the congratulations of her teammates.
"I told you you'd make history!" Tris declared. "Never been a victory like this in all the annals of the Olympiad. Old Tris knows how to pick 'em, doesn't he?"
"What do you mean?" cried Jan-o. "It was Merl and me----and maybe Shaun, if I remember right, told you she and the kid could swim."
"Ah, but I could see it in the build and the look of the eyes. There's a winner, I told myself. Go on and don't argue with me. You need to be thinking about tomorrow when it'll be up to you to do likewise. You'll have to go higher than you did today if you're to stay in the running, Jan-o."
It was just as well for Zeth Tristotha that Vesh had scored high, for a long period of defeats then set in for his team. Jan-o was eliminated in the jumping competitions the next day, and Devon Hates got no further than the semi-finals in wrestling. None of the three Dodover brothers were able to score, but in the relay race, with Merl, they managed to come in second. This raised everybody's hopes for Merl in the 190-meter, but he could do no better than place second again. The two girl runners from Vamlok III also captured minor prizes, coming in 3rd and 4th in their respective competitions. It looked as if the Vulcan Adventurer would go home with just one starburst to its credit.
Jan-o took his elimination hard. He had not even reached the final event in his sport, as had most others members of the team, and when Merl made some remark about "not even concentrated training," he walked off in a huff.
Tris was too busy coaching his still active athletes to pay much attention to him.
"Let the boy find amusement if he can," he said to Merl. "There's always another day, as I'll be explaining to the team in the debriefing." And he went away to watch Hates's debacle in the wrestling ring.
And then the day of reckoning came for Shaun. He had kept ahead in the earlier runoffs for the discus throw. The last competition for late in the last day. There were five of them left, but he knew that the serious competition was Roberd. One by one the others failed to throw far enough and were eliminated, but the Pevorian stood up there, tall and graceful, and matched each throw that Shaun could make. Roberd, on whom all that money was riding. The boy from Sobillon laughed softly to himself. Maybe it'd been foolish for the gambler to approach him. Maybe it was in the cards for Roberd to win anyway.
Most of the other contests had been decided by now, and the fans swarmed into the main stadium to watch this final struggle. There were many exclamations at the greater distance from which Shaun made his toss---the handicap worked out for the athlete from the heavy-gravity world. But so far Shaun had kept up with the champion from Pevoria, matching each throw from his farther box.
The crowd was sitting at the edge of the seats. At first all of the applause was for the native son, with shouts of Roberd! Roberd! Well done!" But as Shaun continued to throw stubbornly and calmly from his distant stand, a feeling of admiration for his performance, of respect for the disadvantage under which he worked, came over the audience. Here and there a voice called his name.
"Shaun Sili! Shaun Sili!"
The shouts rose in volume till the seemed to fill up the stadium. Shaun felt the tension rising. Would he be able to respond to those encouraging cries? Roberd was the old champion, and Shaun had never been able, in practice, to hit his record from his assigned handicap. But here, under the pressure of competition, everything was rising to a peak.
The judges announced that each of the two remaining contestants would now have three throws. Unless there was a tie, this would decide the winner. Roberd was given the first turn. As he stepped into his box, there was a round of applause and then the spectators fell quiet.
The Pevorian took his stance, made several practice swings and then let fly. It was evident that he was nervous, for his first toss went wild and fell far short. A quickly suppressed groan arose from the stands.
With greater concentration, the athlete threw again, and this time the discus fell on his own record mark. The fans were registering their love and approval as Roberd swung his final toss. The missile sailed out in a perfect arc. Out----out! The audience sucked in its breath. And then the referee's voice came over the com-system:
"Roberd has broken his own record! Two inches better than last time! Well done, champion!"
From his place in the pit, Zeth Tristotha frowned at this unorthodox reporting. They had practically given the victory to Roberd before Shaun had made his throw. He held up his fist in a gesture of encouragement as the boy took his place in the farther throwing box.
The referee's report was not lost on the young Pevorian. Since he'd never quite equaled the old record, how could he now surpass this greater record? The stands were starting to vibrate again, this time to the rhythm of his name. "Shaun Sili! Shaun Sili!" He still had his buddies among the spectators.
Deliberately, he shut it all out. His whole being was concentrated on the missile in his hand and the distance it had to go. Form and stance had become automatic with him. Now everything must go into power. He saw once again the yellow plains of his home planet. He felt the tug of that extra gravity. Suppose his flock were out there now, further away than they should be? And Worf running about, awaiting a signal? Could he place the stone beyond the flock without hitting any of them? Almost before he knew it, the discus was flying to the target. He saw the referees running to record it, and then the loudspeaker rendered its verdict.
"Shaun Sili has equaled the old record! Good threw, Sili!"
A babble of voices broke out all over the stands, and it hushed again as Shaun stood for his 2nd try. And again the referred announced the result.
"One inch behind the new record! One throw to go!"
A wave of sound rippled about the stadium. The audience was rising to its feet as Shaun readied for the final and crucial throw. He could feel the urgent pleading in Tris's eyes, but he resolutely refused to look that direction. Then there was absolute silence. All eyes were focused upon him as he went into his swing. "Come on, you fool!" he told himself. "You've gotta get behind the flock! You've knocked off two of them already!"
The discus was flying from his hand. Far, far beyond the imaginary flock. Straight and true. He heard a shout begin from the people in the upper stands. It grew to a roar. It almost drowned out the vital words of the almost hysterical referee.
"2 inches beyond the record! An unprecedented throw! All hail the new champion!"
Pandemonium broke out. People were climbing over the rails to get at the new champion. Shaun stood in a daze, not able to believe that he'd won. He saw the blank, stupefied look on Roberd's face and felt a surge of sympathy for the man who had believed his victory to be assured. Then Tris had hold of him and was pounding him on the back. His teammates were around him and a wave of fans was trying to push through them, all stretching out their hands to grasp his.
"How'd you ever do it, kid? Well done! And what a handicap! It's unbelievable! Unprecedented!"
Shaun forced himself to concentrate, to try to pick out the words in the babble of sound. And then Tris was pulling him to one side.
"That's all for now, folks! Let the victor claim his prize. They're waiting for him over by the torch. Come one, come on, you'll all get your chance later!"
The team solved the problem by hoisting him upon their shoulders and carrying him away. And shortly he was marching up to the stand beside the Olympiad flame, with Roberd on one side of him and the man who had won 3rd on the other. Miraculously, unbelievably, the flags flew, the trumpets blew, and the Director stepped forth and placed the gold starburst around his neck. The prize that Vesh had walked away with so easily, that had been lost to his other teammates, was now actually his! Somehow he remembered the steps of the ceremony. At the proper moment he turned and paraded back to the athletes' quarters with the group, while the music played and the multitude cheered as if he were the only champion on the field.
In the dressing rooms he had to let the reporters ask questions and take pictures. Some of them even felt they should be permitted to feel his muscles.
"What's it like on a high-grav planet? Say, maybe I ought to go there someday. Think it'd build me up?
"You wouldn't like it," Jan-o answered for him. "It takes a lot out of you. Boy-oh-boy!"
"Then I don't see how...."
"He was born there, you dope!----"Ever hear about adaptation?"
The reporters were getting into a tiffle among themselves, and Shan was able to turn his attention to his friends. Everyone wanted to hug him, Vesh included, he was happy to note. Everyone had to inspect and wonder at the gold starburst, although they had all done the same with Vesh's prize. Still, that was way back at the start of the Games. Four whole days ago. A lot of disappointments had run under the bridge since.
The reporters were turning their attention back to him. Shaun was beginning to tire of the endless questions. Tris should be able to get him out of this. There should be limits to what a champion has to endure. Where was the coach, anyway?"
"Where's Tris?" he demanded. "Shouldn't he be here? Where is he?"
"He's coming right now," said a reporter on the perimeter of the crowd. "Hey, coach, your champ wants you!"
Tris came trotting into the room, closely followed by two judges. His face was serious and it occurred to several of the reporters that he did not look like a man whose athlete had just won top honors.
"All right, everyone! Clear the room!" he barked. "My boy's had enough of your gab."
"Now just a minute," cried an astute newsman. "Why the two judges? What's going on? If it's anything you'll be giving out later..."
"Let them stay," one judge directed. "We only have a few questions and everyone's entitled to know the answers."
"All right," said the trader. "Hurry up and get it over with."
"We've just heard a rumor," the judge turned to Shaun, "that you weren't born on Sobillon. Is that right, son? Where were you born?"
"Well, yes sir," Shaun replied. "I was born on Sarvis Q73B. We moved to Sobillon when I was barely a year old."
"There you go," cried the other judge. "Sarvis Q73B is 1.4G."
"Why didn't you tell us at the beginning?" demanded the first judge.
There was a low murmur of astonishment and argument going around the room, but it stopped as everyone waited for Shaun's answer.
"But nobody asked me!" he cried. "Not just like that. You're asked for your native planet, and I said Sobillon. It is my native planet. I don't know any other."
"It's all ridiculous!" cried Tris. "A pack of obstacles fabricated by poor sports who don't want to see their boy lose! Shaun won fair and square and you all saw it!"
"It was not fair and square," said the judge. "We did not have all the facts. I don't say that it was a willful deception. But a man born on Sarvis Q73B should have a handicap of twelve paces, and if we deduct that much from his winning throw..."
"It's not a winning throw anymore," put in one of the reporters.
"Right. I won't say that he might not have done it, even if he'd been standing at his true handicap. But under the circumstances, all we can do is disqualify him. The winner will be recorded as Roberd."
There was a stupefied silence as the judge held out his hand. Shaun took a step back and clutched the starburst that hung about his neck. His face was very white.
"No!" he cried. "No, I won't give it up! I won it. You gave it to me and you have no right to take it away. I don't remember anything about the planet Sarvis Q73B. I couldn't even walk when I left that planet!"
"If you refuse to give it back," said the judge evenly, "you'll still be no victor in the records and you'll be disqualified from all future Games."
Brusquely, Tris pushed himself between the athlete and the judge. He put his hand on Shaun's arm and led him aside.
"Let me have it, son," he said sorrowfully. "If there's one thing you must learn in the Olympiad, it's to obey what the judges say. You don't want to be disqualified forever."
The tears stung Shaun's eyes so that he could not see. He turned his face aside as he pulled the chain over his head and thrust the prize into his coach's hand. Then he pushed his way through the crowd and ran from the room. Behind him a hubbub of voices broke out in wrangling protest.
ns 15.158.61.12da2
