* * * * *
Needless to say, the amphitheatre was packed. Tens of thousands must
have pauperized themselves for fare to Venus and for the highly priced
seats. But whatever the cost, the stands were packed beyond belief.
And, of course, throughout the system every man, woman and child, every
brim, mador and loet, every--but you get the idea. Every intelligent
living thing in the Solar System was glued to his viziscreen.
And above the arena floated the Centaurian ship, silent, sinister.
There were no preliminaries. That would have been too much.
Instead, when the moment of conflict arrived, I came out into the
arena--staggered, might have been the better word. I had a burden of
weapons that was just about all I could carry.
When the stands first saw me enter, they came to their feet and began a
cheer that should have echoed and reechoed--but didn't. It died almost
before it began. When they saw my equipment, the cheer faltered, then
died in shame.
They realized, those citizens from all over the Solar System, what was
happening. The stakes were too high. The Solar System was trading honor
for security. Instead of being armed with the traditional sword or
spear, battleaxe or boomerang, I was laden with the most deadly devices
our scientists could develop.
As I said, the cheers died almost before they began.
Maybe I flushed a little. I don't know. But I tightened my jaw. At
least they didn't boo. Everyone in the stands knew the issue; however
he writhed in shame there must be no indication to the Centaurians that
we weren't playing the game, that we weren't living up to our own rules.
I stood, my back to the judge's stand, and waited. To the left was the
sports box, and I could make out Suzi, even at that distance. Her face
was expressionless.
A great helicopter suddenly and deftly detached itself from the
Centaurian ship and gracefully swooped down. It was beautifully
handled, settling to the opposite side of the arena as gently as a
butterfly.
A large door in its side opened, the Centaurian emerged, and a gasp
from the stands went up; a gasp louder than the cheer that had
originally greeted me.
Of all Solar System intelligent life forms, Jupiter's _Slaber_ is by
far the largest, and, for that reason, that and its natural armor
shell, Jupiter had been winning the Interplanetary Meets two out of
three times for centuries.
But this hulking brute made the _Slaber_ seem a babe in arms. It
resembled somewhat a six legged turtle, roughly twice the size of a
Terran elephant. It had two lobster-like claws and four other limbs.
* * * * *
Evidently, it had decided to end the battle as quickly as possible,
because without either salute or warning it headed for me, the dust
churning up behind it as it came. Its legs were short but fantastically
fast. They seemed a blur of speed and before I had got over the
surprise of its appearance it was half way across the arena toward me.
A shout, almost a moan, of warning went up from the stands, and
suddenly those citizens of the Solar System were no longer ashamed of
the weapons I carried, no longer contemptuous of my honor.
I grasped my atomic grenade from its hook on my belt, dropped the
projectile thrower to the ground to give my arm free play, and threw.
Half the total acreage of the arena went up in a gust of dirt, dust,
gravel and colored smoke. Seconds later I had been thrown prostrate
by the blast. Probably half the amphitheatre's occupants had been
similarly treated, and how many blast casualties might have been among
them, I couldn't know.
But at least, I thought, the fight was over and I'd done the Solar
League's dirty work for it. I'd never be able to hold up my head again
in a circle of gladiators, but the System was safe.