The place of the testing was a huge coliseum that had been centuries
old when the human race was still in the barbaric stage of its
development. It had been designed to hold tens of thousands of
spectators and once unquestionably it had held them but the whole
population of Sudal and the surrounding territory would now hardly fill
the lower tiers. Looking out at the encroaching desert, where pathetic
little patches of greenery tried to stem the tide of encroaching
desolation, it was easy to see why this stadium could no longer be
filled.
Already the Martians were beginning to trickle into the lower seats
when the humans arrived at the top of the vast bowl.
"What the hell goes on here?" Roy Larkin kept demanding. "I don't like
this."
"You've got your _Kell_ guns, what are you afraid of?" the trader
asked.
"I'm not afraid," the younger man angrily answered. "Except for the
metal rods the old gooks are carrying, they're not armed. Hell, we're
not afraid of them. It's just that I don't know what the hell is
supposed to take place."
"You'll find out," Boyd Larkin answered.
In the center of the vast amphitheater was a raised stone altar.
In this dry atmosphere, the red stains on it never weathered away.
Directly behind the altar was a chair. Malovar was already taking his
place in this chair. Leading up to the altar, a double line of elders
was forming. Other elders had already made a large circle of living
statues around their ruler.
With only the slightest perceptible hesitancy in his stride, Larkin
went down the steps of this coliseum. Very vaguely he wondered how
many Martians had traveled this path in the centuries gone. There must
have been uncounted millions of them. He, personally, had seen most
of the inhabitants of Sudal pass this way at one time or another. He
had passed this way himself upon his arrival here. He had not fully
understood what could happen then, he had been hurt to the bottom of
his soul, and he had not cared much what did happen. He had passed the
test, then and later. But now--
Malovar's warning of the night before was still ringing in his ears.
"My regret will not stay my hand at the time of the testing."
"Where the hell are we supposed to go?" Roy Larkin questioned, as they
reached the bottom of the steps. "This looks like a Roman circus, or
something."
"Follow me," the trader answered. His step was firm as he trod between
the lines of the elders. He knew them, all of them, he had sold
minerals to most of them. Now their faces were as immobile as stone.
They seemed never to have seen him. At this moment, he was a stranger
among them, an alien they did not seem to know.
He walked up in front of the altar, stood facing Malovar.
Sitting in the big throne chair behind the altar, the face of the
Martian ruler was a mask far more bleak than the faces of his elders.
Now in this moment he wore the regalia of his office, the carved
jeweled crown, the diadem of gems suspended from his throat. Either
the crown or the diadem would have been worth a fortune back on Earth.
Behind him, Larkin heard the humans catch their breath at the sight of
these jewels. He knew what they were thinking: a few quick bursts from
the _Kell_ guns and this fortune would be theirs.
"Are you prepared for the test?" Malovar's eyes centered on Larkin.
"I am prepared, Sire. But why am I being tested now?"
"Any individual may be tested at any time the welfare of the people in
my opinion requires such testing." The Martian words seemed almost to
be part of a ritual.
"And on what will your decision be reached?"
"Again, the welfare of my people," Malovar answered.
"I mean--what deeds of mine will be judged here?"
Malovar's face grew bleaker still. "Perhaps nothing you have done but
something you may do."
"But you cannot test me now for something I have not yet done, you
cannot read the future!" the human protested.
"Perhaps by testing you now I may guide the future," Malovar answered.
"But--enough of talk. Kneel!"
Larkin knew he had no further choice. He went down on his knees before
the altar. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw one of the elders take
Malovar's staff from him, hand him instead the sword. Larkin knew that
the blade of that sword was razor sharp. Driven with only moderate
force it would cut flesh and bone instantly.
He closed his eyes.
He felt himself grabbed by the shoulder and jerked backward. He faced
the raging, frightened eyes of his son. "What the hell's going on here?"
"This is the test," he explained. "You have to go through this test
before you can sell minerals to the people of Sudal."
"But what's he going to do?" The younger man gestured toward Malovar
who stood erect.
"I do not know. His action is his choice."
"But he is acting and you are acting as if he may chop off your head!"
"That is exactly what he may do, if he so chooses."
"But that's crazy!" Roy Larkin exploded.
"To us, yes. To the Martians, no. This is the way they have of testing
the loyalty of individuals to the group. At the time of the annual
testing all the inhabitants of this city pass one by one before
Malovar."
"And he cuts off the heads of the ones he don't like!" Horror sounded
in Roy Larkin's voice.
"I do not think his liking or not liking has anything to do with it,"
the trader explained. "He is working for the good of his whole people,
not his personal good. And he cuts off heads if he chooses. I have seen
him lop off a dozen heads in a single hour."
Sweat oozed out of Larkin as the memory came back to him.
"But, damn it, we don't have to go through with this test. We're not
Martians--"
"We propose to do business with them. This is the way they test our
fitness to do business with them. They make the rules here."
* * * * *