Chapter Eighteen
Guards led Barrent from the office of the Awards Committee. He wasbrought past a row of dungeons under the Arena, and locked into a cell.The guards told him to be patient; the Games had already begun, and histurn would come soon.
There were nine men crammed into a cell which had been built to holdthree. Most of them sat or sprawled in complete and silent apathy,already resigned to their deaths. But one of them was definitely notresigned. He pushed his way to the front of the cell as Barrent entered.
"Joe!"
The little credit thief grinned at him. "A sad place to meet, Will."
"What happened to you?"
"Politics," Joe said. "It's a dangerous business on Omega, especiallyduring the time of the Games. I thought I was safe. But ..." He shruggedhis 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 perhapsher 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 andheatgun 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 Icould 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 spiritof--"
He was interrupted by the arrival of a detachment of guards. It was timefor 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 doorthat separated the cell block from the main Arena. Just before thecaptain of the guards opened the door, a fat, well-dressed man camehurrying 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 tothe captain. "On the other side, you'll find a cease-and-desistorder." He pulled more papers out of his pockets. "And here is abankruptcy-transferral notice, a chattel mortgage, a writ of habeascorpus, and a salary attachment."
The captain pushed back his helmet and scratched his narrow forehead. "Ican never understand what you lawyers are talking about. What does itmean?"
"It releases him," the fat man said, pointing to Joe.
The captain took the papers, gave them a single puzzled glance, andhanded them to an aide. "All right," he said, "take him with you. But itwasn't like this in the old days. _Nothing_ stopped the orderlyprogression of the Games."
Grinning triumphantly, Joe stepped through the ranks of guards andjoined the fat lawyer. He asked him, "Do you have any papers for WillBarrent?"
"None," the lawyer said. "His case is in different hands. I'm afraid itmight 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 properlyserved," the fat lawyer said proudly. "Dead or alive, you will retainall your rights."
The captain of the guards said, "All right, let's go."
"Luck," Joe called out. And then the line of prisoners had passedthrough the iron door into the glaring light of the Arena.
* * * * *
Barrent lived through the hand-to-hand duels in which a quarter of theprisoners were killed. After that, men armed with swords were matchedagainst the deadlier Omegan fauna. The beasts they fought included thehintolyte and the hintosced--big-jawed, heavily armored monsters whosenatural habitat was the desert region far to the south of Tetrahyde.Fifteen men later, these beasts were dead. Barrent was matched with aSaunus, a flying black reptile from the western mountains. For a whilehe was hard-pressed by this ugly, poison-toothed creature. But in timehe figured out a solution. He stopped trying to jab the Saunus'sleathery hide and concentrated on severing its broad fan oftailfeathers. When he had succeeded, the Saunus's flying balance wasthrown badly off. The reptile crashed into the high wall that separatedthe combatants from the spectators, and it was relatively easy toadminister the final stroke through the Saunus's single huge eye. Thevast and enthusiastic crowd in the stadium gave Barrent a lengthy roundof applause.
He moved back to the reserve pen and watched other men struggle againstthe trichomotreds, incredibly fast little creatures the size of rats,with the dispositions of rabid wolverines. It took five teams ofprisoners. After a brief interlude of hand-to-hand duelling, the Arenawas cleared again.
Now the hard-shelled criatin amphibians lumbered in. Although sluggishin disposition, the criatins were completely protected beneath severalinches of shell. Their narrow whiplash tails, which also served them asantennae, were invariably fatal to any man who approached them. Barrenthad to fight one of these after it had dispatched four of his fellowprisoners.
He had watched the earlier combats carefully, and had detected the oneplace where the criatin antennae could not reach. Barrent waited for hischance and jumped for the center of the criatin's broad back.
When the shell split into a gigantic mouth--for this was the criatinmethod of feeding--Barrent jammed his sword into the opening. Thecriatin expired with gratifying promptness, and the crowd signified itsapproval by showering the Arena with cushions.
The victory left Barrent standing alone on the blood-stained sand. Therest of the prisoners were either dead or too badly maimed to fight.Barrent waited, wondering what beast the Games Committee had chosennext.
A single tendril shot up through the sand, and then another. Withinseconds, a short, thick tree was growing in the Arena, sending out moreroots and tendrils, and pulling all flesh, living or dead, into fivesmall feeding-mouths which circled the base of the trunk. This was thecarrion tree, indigenous to the northeastern swamps and imported withgreat difficulty. It was said to be highly vulnerable to fire; butBarrent had no fire available.
Using his sword two-handed, Barrent lopped off vines; others grew intheir place. He worked with frantic speed to keep the vines fromsurrounding him. His arms were becoming tired, and the tree regeneratedfaster than he could cut it down. There seemed no way of destroying it.
His only hope lay in the tree's slow movements. These were fast enough,but nothing compared with human musculature. Barrent ducked out of acorner in which the creeping vines were trapping him. Another sword waslying twenty yards away, half-buried in the sand. Barrent reached it,and heard warning shouts from the crowd. He felt a vine close around hisankles.
He hacked at it, and other vines coiled around his waist. He dug hisheels into the sand and clashed the swords together, trying to produce aspark.
On his first try, the sword in his right hand broke in half.
Barrent picked up the halves and kept on trying as the vines dragged himcloser to the feeding mouths. A shower of sparks flew from the clangingsteel. One of them touched a vine.
With incredible suddenness the vine burst into flame. The flame spurteddown the length of the vine to the main tree system. The five mouthsmoaned as the fire leaped toward them.
If matters had been left to continue, Barrent would have been burned todeath, for the Arena was nearly filled with the highly combustiblevines. But the flames were endangering the wooden walls of the Arena.The Tetrahyde guard detachment put the fire out in time to save bothBarrent and the spectators.
Swaying with exhaustion, Barrent stoo
d in the center of the Arena,wondering what would be used next against him. But nothing happened.After a moment, a signal was made from the President's box, and thecrowd roared in applause.
The Games were over. Barrent had survived.
Still no one left his seat. The audience was waiting to see the finaldisposition of Barrent, who had passed beyond the law.
He heard a low, reverent gasp from the crowd. Turning quickly, Barrentsaw a fiery dot of light appear in mid-air. It swelled, threw outstreamers of light, and gathered them in again. It grew rapidly, toobrilliant to look upon. And Barrent remembered Uncle Ingemar saying tohim, "Sometimes, The Black One rewards us by appearing in the awfulbeauty of his fiery flesh. Yes, Nephew, I have actually been privilegedto see him. Two years ago he appeared at the Games, and he also appearedthe year before that...."
The dot became a red and yellow globe about twenty feet in diameter, itslowest curve not quite touching the ground. It grew again. The center ofthe globe became thinner; a waist appeared, and above the waist theglobe turned an impenetrable black. It was two globes now, onebrilliant, one dark, joined by a narrow waist. As Barrent watched, thedark globe lengthened and changed into the unforgettable horn-headedshape of The Dark One.
Barrent tried to run, but the huge black-headed figure swept forward andengulfed him. He was trapped in a blinding swirl of radiance, withdarkness above it. The light bored into his head, and he tried toscream. Then he passed out.