"What happened to you?"
"Politics," Joe said. "It's a dangerous business on Omega, especially
during the time of the Games. I thought I was safe. But ..." He shrugged
his shoulders. "I was selected for the Games this morning."
"Is there any chance of getting out of it?"
"There's a chance," Joe said. "I told your girl about you, so perhaps
her friends can do something. As for me, I'm expecting a reprieve."
"Is that possible?" Barrent asked.
"Anything is possible. It's better not to hope for it, though."
"What are the Games like?" Barrent asked.
"They're the sort of thing you'd expect," Joe said. "Man-to-man combats,
battles against various types of Omegan flora and fauna, needlebeam and
heatgun duels. It's all copied from an old Earth festival, I'm told."
"And if anyone survives," Barrent said, "they're beyond the law."
"That's right."
"But what does it mean to be beyond the law?"
"I don't know," Joe said. "Nobody seems to know much about that. All I
could find out is, survivors of the Games are taken by The Black One.
It's not supposed to be pleasant."
"I can understand that. Very little on Omega _is_ pleasant."
"It isn't a bad place," Joe said. "You just haven't the proper spirit
of--"
He was interrupted by the arrival of a detachment of guards. It was time
for the occupants of Barrent's cell to enter the Arena.
"No reprieve," Barrent said.
"Well, that's how it goes," Joe said.
They were marched out under heavy guard and lined up at the iron door
that separated the cell block from the main Arena. Just before the
captain of the guards opened the door, a fat, well-dressed man came
hurrying down a side corridor waving a paper.
"What's this?" the captain of the guards asked.
"A writ of recognizance," the fat man said, handing his paper to
the captain. "On the other side, you'll find a cease-and-desist
order." He pulled more papers out of his pockets. "And here is a
bankruptcy-transferral notice, a chattel mortgage, a writ of habeas
corpus, and a salary attachment."
The captain pushed back his helmet and scratched his narrow forehead. "I
can never understand what you lawyers are talking about. What does it
mean?"
"It releases him," the fat man said, pointing to Joe.
The captain took the papers, gave them a single puzzled glance, and
handed them to an aide. "All right," he said, "take him with you. But it
wasn't like this in the old days. _Nothing_ stopped the orderly
progression of the Games."
Grinning triumphantly, Joe stepped through the ranks of guards and
joined the fat lawyer. He asked him, "Do you have any papers for Will
Barrent?"
"None," the lawyer said. "His case is in different hands. I'm afraid it
might not be completely processed until after the Games are over."
"But I'll probably be dead then," Barrent said.
"That, I can assure you, won't stop the papers from being properly
served," the fat lawyer said proudly. "Dead or alive, you will retain
all your rights."