[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

that he barely knew.
"Kren, you must help me!"
"And why is it that I must do this thing?"
Kren continued walking toward the locker room, with Bo scurrying
behind him.
"Kren, I lost the raffle! I'm going to have to fight to the death in half an
hour!"
"So? Someone had to lose. Anyway, it's not like Big Time Gladiators
on television. They always resurrect the loser in these university
matches."
"I'm a runner! I'm not a fighter! I'm sure to be the loser! And
resurrection is so painful!"
"It is far superior to the alternative. Anyway, I fail to see what I can do
for you."
Bo said, "You could take my place! You can out fight anybody!"
"But, why should I want to do this for you?"
"Because I would pay you to do it! How does five thousand Ke sound
to you?"
"It sounds very small," Kren said.
"Then ten thousand! That's all that I have!"
"I'll be paid in advance?"
"Very well, but how? We can't get to the bank and back before the
event," Bo said.
"There are plenty of bookies around who are working the crowds. You
will place a ten thousand Ke bet naming me as the recipient of the
winnings."
"Okay! I'll do it! But let's hurry!"
They found a bookie, placed a bet for Kren to win at the javelin
accuracy competition, and then went to the locker room where Kren
picked up his sword and a spare military spear that he'd bought.
The rules for the death competition were "arm yourself with any legal
weapon."
They got to the ring with three minutes to spare. Kren was just getting
into it when he was stopped by the athletic director himself.
"Kren, just what in the name of the Great First Egg do you think that
you are doing?"
"I am getting into the ring?"
"And why were you doing this stupid thing?"
"For the Glory of the University! Consider, sir, that Bo here doesn't
stand a chance of winning a fight against anybody. The university team
will lose five points when he gets killed." Kren knew that it was a stupid
excuse, but it was the only thing that he could think of at the time. "How
could I let a thing like that happen to my beloved alma mater?
Especially when there's no doubt at all that I would win easily."
"You bloody idiot!" The director said, "Do you have any idea how
much money I have riding on your performance with the javelin this
afternoon? Even a slight wound could risk that! Now get your bleeding
cloaca out of that ring!"
The athletic director then picked up the terror-stricken Bo and threw
her bodily into the fighting area.
"And you, Bo, will quit blowing farts and at least try to die like an
athlete!"
Kren got out of the ring and offered Bo his sword.
"I guess that the best that I can do now is to offer you a good weapon.
Do you want the spear as well?"
"What about my money?"
"You must worry about your life, first. We don't have time to get your
money back to you now, but come see me, the next time you get a
chance, and we'll work something out."
"So how much was she paying you?" The director said.
"Ten thousand Ke."
"Kren, you are dismally stupid."
"I quite agree with you, sir. Especially since I failed to bet on myself in
the fencing competition," Kren said.
"Absolutely dismally stupid!"
The director was shaking his head as he walked away.
Bo took Kren's sword, but she didn't know how to use it. The match
was over in a half minute. The crowd got a bigger thrill out of watching
a young carnivore eat Bo's brain and body, than they did from seeing
her fight.
You win some and you lose some. Sometimes the other guy eats your
lunch, and sometimes you are lunch.
Kren retrieved his sword, which had Bo's severed hand still clutching
the hilt. He pried loose the fingers and absent-mindedly munched on the
wrist as he went to the javelin courts.
The first javelin event was team tennis, which was a major spectator
sport, but not very important to the gamblers. Kren's performance was
more than adequate, but his team's wasn't. They lost eleven to nine.
Individual tennis was another horizontal pyramid sport. Kren won his
first three bouts, but then lost the fourth when he misjudged his
opponent's position. She caught his spear just as it went over the
barrier, and immediately spiked it into the ground a yard from the wall.
This happened when Kren had been expecting a long shot, and was in
the back court.
The distance throw was next, and the Master of Javelins again
admonished Kren to not get carried away, but to try to make each
throw just a few yards longer than the best throw before him. Kren
promised to do so.
The playing position was determined by each player walking past a
bucket set with its top higher than eye level. They each reached in and
pulled out a ceramic tile with a number on it which determined when
they would be throwing. Kren was toward the middle of the three
dozen athletes competing.
Things went well at first, and halfway through the third and final round,
Kren had made the longest throw, although it was nowhere near an
amateur record. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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