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Even when the Vulcan Adventurer was safely down and secured, Zeth Tristotha refused permission for his crew to descend to the field.
"All in good time," he told them. "Let all of you concentrate on packing your belongings. I don't want any last-minute items forgotten and left behind. I'm going to find out about our lodgings and what kind of a welcome they have for us. And until I get back, nobody's to go out."
And leaving Merl and Jan-o in charge, he hurried own the ramp. Behind him, in impatient ferment, the team divided its attention between last-minute packing and the panorama presented by the viewport.
Vesh found Skem glued to a lower corner of the window where he could watch the activity on the field.
"Are you sure you've packed everything?" she demanded. "You heard what Tris said."
"Sure, I'm sure. Take a look at the ship that's next to us. Did you ever see such a whopper?"
"They got us berthed with all the big bugs. Didn't you here?" said Davis Dodover.
"Yeah, look at the folks coming down her ramp!" cried Devon, towering above Skem to peer out over his head. "Must be a mighty fancy bug, if you ask me."
"Say, look at the clothes,' squealed Becka, and a series of whistles issued from the ring of athletes.
Groups of elegantly dressed men and women were climbing up and down a number of the adjacent ramps, or riding past he ship in little cars. Brilliant colors and jewels were much in evidence. Bzia admired a golden sheath worn by a statuesque beauty. The gown reached to her ankles and was embroidered with many colored concentric circles, each with a flashing jewel in the middle. She wore a furred cape around her shoulders, hanging open to reveal her dress. Becka, on the other hand, preferred a young girl in slender striped trousers with a matching jacket and a jaunty cap on her blond head.
The boys were no less amazed by the masculine attire, for here the men wore costumes as fancy as the women's, being dressed in satins and velvets and materials unlike anything the boys had ever seen in their lives. Many sported long hair and curls and nearly all wore elaborately decorated belts, clasps, and often knives or daggers.
The comments at the viewport rose to a crescendo.
"Wow! Would you look at the knife on that character! I'm going to get me one before I leave here! How about that belt!"
"Have you all forgotten what Tris was telling us?" cried Merl. "Stop thinking about stuff!"
"I can look, can't I?" said Becka. "Before I go back home, I'm going to get some clothes!"
"But think of the newdollars!" said Bzia. "You could buy a whole planet for what those things cost!"
"You'd do better to think of your own clothes," Vesh pointed out. "Are these your shorts, Skem? They're too small for anybody else."
Skem cast a hasty look her way. "Smokin' meteors! Where'd you find 'em?"
"In the exercise room. And you don't have so many that you can afford to throw these away."
"Gimme!" He caught the shorts as she threw them to him.
"Now go and pack them or you'll forget them again."370Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqY1I0pixBp
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But Skem was not to be lured away from the window. He thrust the shorts into a pocket and returned to his observation of the field. Vesh sighed.
"I wonder what else you've forgotten," she said as she went off to make a final search of the ship.
She found Shaun fitting a collar and lead around Worf's neck.
"Poor Worf," she said. "Release from the ship means confinement for you."
"I hope there's a place where he can run free, as on your planet. But for right now, with all the people there are on that field...."
"I'm sure you're right. But he didn't have such a happy time on Droth, did you, Worf?" She bent to caress the dog, and just then the blower sounded at the airlock.
"Ready, everyone!" cried Merl. "Here comes the boss!"
It was the one sound that could tear the youngsters away from the viewport. They whirled to face the lock, and when the trader trotted in, they were all standing at attention, clutching their various bags and satchels and belongings.
Tris stepped aside and a dapper little man in a spaceport uniform followed him through the lock.
"So you're all ready and waiting!" Their coach was pleased. "Good enough. Meet Officer Conway. My team, sir. All rarin' to go and mop up the competition, aren't we? Officer Conway's going to conduct us to our lodgings. So get in line, everyone, and be counted. We don't want to lose anyone out on that busy field."
"Um---yeah!" said Conway, with an almost military snort. He was only slightly taller than the trader, and all the athletes except Skem towered over him. He whipped out a stylus and checkboard and peered up at them.
"Let's see. I got to check you all off first. Ah, yes. Coach Zeth Tristotha. Here we are. Bit late, aren't you? Now just step over here as your name is called. Valarian, Merl, runner.....Hates, Devon, wrestler.....Ramos, Vesh, swimmer....Ramos, Skem, swimmer...."
He paused for a moment to stare at Skem and then continued through the list. When he was done, he looked about once again as if to assure himself that there were not too few or too many of them. Then he folded up the checkboard and thrust it back into his pocket.
"Well, everything seems to be in order. Better than with many of the teams. But you'll have to work hard to make up the time. Now follow me and we'll go to Olympiad Village."
They all paraded down the ramp and into a little bus that was parked at the foot. As Shaun went to enter, with Worf at his heels, the officer stopped him.
"Wait a minute. What's that? I didn't see him up there!"
"He's my dog, sir. He goes everywhere I go. Besides, he helps with the practice. I'm a discus man, you know."
"Hm....yes...well, there's no provision for pets. One of the other teams had a six-legged tamgan from Furovin. They made them put it in the zoo."
"But Worf's our mascot!" Vesh called from her seat in the bus. "And he's not a wild animal. He's a dog. Ask anyone from Earth."
"Well, get in with him and we'll see what they say at the Village. Just make sure he behaves himself, though."
The doors closed and the car began its fast, bumpy ride. As they crossed the field and left the spaceport, they passed more richly dressed people, pushing, hurrying, and laughing in holiday mood. Most of them turned to look as the car with the athletes passed, and many called after them.
"Hail, athletes! Good show! Best of galactic luck to you!"
The young people called and waved back, but the bus bore them away so fast that they were encountering a new group before they'd done more than wave to the first.
They got an impression of sweet air and bright sunlight. Everything had a rosy tint and the weather seemed perfect for outdoor sports. They passed a group of tall buildings on the outskirts of the port, and then they saw merely low, graceful houses with columned porticos, often placed on the crown of a hill, with spreading lawns and flowers and woods between.
The bus passed through a cut in the hills and climbed an incline, and there spread out before them was a verdant plain, stretching down to a shining sea. There were towering headlands where the bay ended, and docks with ships at anchor. And between them and the sea, a charming and colorful complex, were the buildings for the Games. A big oval stadium, with flags flying from the walls and towers, and practice and playing fields laid out around it. And off in the other direction, away from the docks and ships, was the Olympiad Village. Rows and rows of little houses, with larger buildings in the middle, and a tall fence around the whole group.
The car made swiftly for the nearest gate, but hardly had it dipped down along the road to the plain than a cry rang out from the back of the bus.
"The sea! The sea! Oh, look!" Vesh and Skem were both leaning out their windows, breathing avidly of the salty air, unable to repress their excitement.
"Quiet back there!" commanded the officer, who was too busy with the driving to do more than issue orders. "No leaning out the windows!"
"Please obey Officer Conway!" cried their coach. "I'm shocked at the two of you."
"But we haven't seen the ocean for so long!" Vesh apologized. "Can we go swimming tonight, Mr. Tris?"
"Nobody goes swimming at night," said Conway. "At night you're all locked into the Village. And in the daytime you'll be too busy practicing till after the Games. When that's over, you may drown yourselves, if that's what you want."
A murmur went round the bus. "Locked in....locked in!" It seemed that they were exchanging the confinement of the ship for that of the Village. Shaun grinned wryly as he remembered his worries about Worf. It looked as if he would have no more freedom than the dog.
Just then the car bounced through a gate which swung open to admit them and then clanked shut behind. Conway turned to the right, around several corners and drew up before a white and blue gate with the word "Femme" embossed above it.
"Here's where the women get out," he said.
The riders shifted so that the 3 girls, all hugging their bags, could squeeze past.
"Oh, Skem!" cried Vesh. "I've got to leave you. Please be good and do everything you're told to do, and----and----we'll go swimming in that ocean as soon as they'll let us!"
"Don't you worry about him!" said Tris. "He's got seven teammates and a coach to see that he toes the line. And we'll all get together for supper tonight, I expect."
The car rolled away to find the lodgings for the men, and Vesh, Bzia and Becka picked up their bags and entered the gate.
The lodgings for men and women proved to be much the same. They were clean and comfortable, but spartan in general design. The houses had rooms for one or two and often more occupants, with just space enough for beds and storage for the athletes' gear. Each group of buildings had its block of showers, and meals were taken at the central commissary, which served both men and women.
Tris saw his boys satisfactorily lodged and then walked back to check on the girls. He was to spend much of his time in the ensuing days trotting from one place to the other, as he checked on the activities of his athletes and assured himself that they were all following his orders.
The athletes themselves soon discovered that they had little to complain of in Zeth Tristotha's regulations. Whatever routines of exercise he prescribed were well below the regimens demanded by the other coaches. In fact, for three days, the trader urged his team to go slow.
"First, get adapted to the new environment," he urged. "We'll still have a few days left for that final push. And go slow on the eating, too. Don't let the sight of all these fresh delicacies lead you astray. Your stomach must readapt as well."
Every morning he led the whole group on a brisk walk along the curving bay and interspersed this exercise with periods of rest and a few quick push-ups. After lunch everybody was ordered to take 1 hour's rest in his room, and then put in two or three hours of training at his particular sport.
His most difficult problem at this time was the 2 swimmers from Droth. The mere sight of the sea, as they trotted around the curving shore, was a magnet to the young swimmers. Tris was constantly ordering them back into line.
"Keep your feet out of that surf, you two!" he would holler from his position at the head of the line. "All swimming must be confined to your pool!"
"But we don't like the pools!" Vesh lamented. "With all this lovely ocean out here waiting to be explored."
"Pools are dumb!" Skem said. "No waves. No depth. No nothing."
"You're not here for waves or for exploring," the trader admonished them. "I don't know what's out there in this planet's ocean, and I couldn't care less. You're here show how fast you can swim in a pool. After you done that you can do all the exploring you want."
He assigned Hates to the special job of keeping Skem out of the sea. But when he looked at Vesh, his confidence wavered.
"All right," he said. "I guess nobody could keep you out against your will. I'm counting on your good sense and the promise that I'm sure you'll give me. No ocean swimming till after the Games----right?"
Vesh looked at the waves and sighed. "Right," she said in a tiny, reluctant voice.
As long as he could not explore the wonders of Pevoria, the time Shaun liked best was when he could practice with the discus. Tris had arranged for his athletes to do their training late in the day, when most of the other teams had finished. Shaun found that he had the field pretty much to himself, and he could turn Worf loose to retrieve his throws. The dog was happy to have this chance at freedom and ran enthusiastically after every toss.
It was on the 3rd day of this lonely practice that Shaun became aware of an audience. A young man was standing at a distance behind him. The setting sun at the back made the figure indistinct. Shaun saw only the silhouette, but then Worf, returning with the discus, began to bark in a worried, unsettled fashion.
As the man approached, Shaun saw that it was not a human. Or was it maybe a different kind of man? An alien? Shaun and Worf stood close together. Waiting.
"Do not stop. I will just watch." The creature spoke Galactic Standard with a high, queer modulation.
Shaun stared, not able to resume his practice with the needed concentration. The speaker, he noted, had a man's bipedal build. A thin man, and he was clothed in quite ordinary garb of boots, pants and tunic, with a loose cloak dangling from his shoulders. But where that cloak ended, the skin of the neck was revealed as coarse, porous, or was it maybe scaled? The face was too bony for a man's, with jutting nose and deep-set eyes, and sprouting from the crown of an otherwise bald head was---feathers? hair? fur? Shaun could not be sure in the fading light, but he knew that this was his first meeting with a nonhuman intelligent species.
Tris had told them to expect spectators from all parts of the Galaxy. But he had not stressed the possibility of aliens. And now here was one, come to watch him practice! Shaun knew he must make some gesture of friendship and not stand there like a boor. But what could he do?
"We arrived late, so I've got the late hour for training," he said. "I'm a discuss thrower. Not very exciting to watch."
"What of the animal? Does it compete in the Games?"
"Oh---Worf? No, he's just my dog. From Earth, you know. That is, dogs come from Earth. But this one comes from Sobillon. My home planet. He couldn't compete. But he helps me practice. He retrieves the discus when I throw it."
"Ah." The word was a fading sigh. "Of course, he does not compete. How foolish of me to think so."
The stranger stood for a moment in thought, and Worf took the opportunity to approach and sniff around his feet. The alien reached down with the first sign of a smile and ran his hand over the dog's fur.
"Permit me to introduce myself. I am called V'gon Tacbian. I am what you would call a native Pevorian. This is my planet, although you might not think so when you see how many of your species are here."
"But I didn't know!" cried Shaun. "That is, I never near that there was a native race of---er----people on Pevoria!"
"No, we are not mentioned often in the reports and history books. We live mostly in the mountains now. Too close contacts we find....disturbing. But since they have begun these competitions, this Olympiad, as you call it, I find it interesting. I come and watch. I would like to compete, and I thought that if this animal was allowed---your dog?" He gave the word an odd, questioning accent. "Then they might permit others who are different also. You understand me? But no. It is not so." He sighed again and looked disconsolately at Worf.
"You mean to to tell me," Shaun exclaimed, "that you want to compete and they won't let you? But you're practically like us---not at all like Worf. That is, there's no comparison!" Shaun found himself floundering in his effort to express his dismay and not be disrespectful to the alien."
"I'm afraid they don't think so. They say quite positively that we are two different species. Different species cannot compete in fairness, they say."
"But this is your planet!" cried Shaun. "What do you do? I mean, what is your sport? Do you throw?" He held out the discus.
"I wish to run," said the alien.
"I can't see how there would be any difference between your running and our running. But I'm new here. This is the first time I've come to the games and we only got here three days ago."
Shaun looked uneasily at the stranger, feeling that there was something more he should say.
"Maybe someday we can change the rules," he said. "It's all pretty new, anyhow. My name's Shaun Sili. I'm with Zeth Tristotha's team and any time you want to watch us practice, that's all right. Come around tomorrow and I'll introduce you to our runners."
Tacbian extended his hand in the human greeting, and when Shaun clasped it, he realized that he was right about the scaled skin.370Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvzKdHALC9H
"I will look for you in the stadium," said the alien. "I will look for you to win."
Then he turned and moved quietly away, down towards the sea. Worf looked after him and whined. It was getting too late for practice, Shaun realized, and went to gather up his gear. As he turned back towards the Village complex, he ran into his coach.
"Who was that man you were talking to?" demanded Tris.
"It wasn't a man. It was an alien. A Pevorian. You never told me there were Pevorian natives, Tris."
"It didn't seem important. There aren't many of 'em and they live way up in the hills. What'd he want, anyhow?"
"He wants to compete in the Games."
Tris let out a low whistle. "You don't say! I hear they're mighty quick on their feet."
"But he says they won't let him."
"Of course they won't." The coach led the way back towards the buildings. "The Committee's got to stick to some kind of rules. If you let in the Pevorians, then every intelligent species in the Galaxy might want in. And some of 'em aren't as human as this."370Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0cJFfshqyr
"But this is their planet!" Shaun protested.
"I know. But they keep pretty much to themselves. That is, they used to. This is a new angle. I don't want to discourage you, lad. I reckon you did all right this time. But you're liable to get a lot of zany folks coming around to watch you practice. Some of 'em even lay bets on you. You watch what you say after this. Don't get too chummy."
Tris left him at the door of his house, and Shaun went in and readied himself for the evening meal. All the time he was wondering what kind of folks could be any zanier than V'gon Tacbian. He managed to get a seat at dinner next to Merl, and as soon as they were eating, he told the runner about the true natives of Pevoria who wanted to compete in the Olympiad races.370Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0ElsTVdnPB
"That's okay with me," said Merl. "If any of them can outrun me, they're welcome to the prize."
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