Chapter IV

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."

* * * * *

A snarl was in his son's voice. "But we don't have to obey them!"

"What is this discussion?" Malovar spoke softly, in Martian.

"I am explaining to my son what is happening here," Larkin said.

"Your son?" Something very close to surprise showed on the wrinkled, bleak face. "Is _this_ man _your_ son?"

"He is," Larkin answered. There was no apology and no attempt at explanation in his voice. He stated a fact, and if it damned him, then it damned him. The interpretation of that fact he left up to the Martian ruler.

Malovar seemed not to find that interpretation difficult. For an instant, the eyes of the Martian went to the younger Larkin, weighing and testing him. Malovar's face grew bleak indeed as if his eyes saw the surface and what was under the surface and found none of it to his liking. Then his eyes came back to the trader.

"We will continue with the testing," he said.

"I am ready," Larkin answered, moving toward the altar.

"Hey, wait a minute," his son said, seizing his arm.

Larkin shrugged off the grip. "You idiot!" Anger blazed in his voice. "Don't you know what you face here? This test must be accepted, or you will never do business on Mars."

"All right, you old fool!" His son's voice was shrill with anger too, though not the same kind of anger. "Go on and get your stupid head chopped off and see if I care."

"I did not expect you to care," Larkin answered. He laid his head on the altar.

Malovar lifted the long sword.

Over the coliseum the assembled Martians seemed to catch their collective breath and then to stop breathing. The silence became thick, heavy, like a pall of gray mist. In that voiceless instant it seemed to Boyd Larkin that time itself was standing still. What would Malovar do? Larkin did not know, and had never known, the facts on which the ruler based his decision to strike or not to strike.

What did knowing, or not knowing, matter now, in the moment that might see the end of his life?

The hushed silence was broken by a single sharp cry. Larkin opened his eyes. He saw Malovar catch the movement of the sword. He turned his head in the direction from which the cry had come.

Down between the lines of the elders a single Martian was running.

Seekin!

Seekin came to a halt before the altar, bowed before Malovar. His gaze did not go to the human rising to his feet. He looked at Malovar.

"I claim the privilege of taking his place, Sire," Seekin said. "According to the ancient law of the testing, I take his place."

Larkin blinked startled eyes. A glow came up in him. He was hardly aware of it. He had never seen this thing happen before, he did not know it could happen, he did not know that Martian minds worked this way. Surprise was in him.

Surprise seemed to be in Malovar too. Over the coliseum the silence seemed to become heavier as if thousands of Martians were each holding his breath in wonder and in awe.

After the first flash of surprise, Malovar's face became bleak again.

"Do you accept the human's fate as your fate, whatever my decision may be?" the Martian ruler questioned.

Under his brown, Seekin showed a creeping tide of white. He knew what was meant, knew it intimately and well. But his nod was resolute and undaunted.

"Yesterday he gave me valuable minerals in exchange for a valueless jewel. Thus he gave life to me and to my family. And he gave me more than was needed, so that something more might be grown--for someone else. Thus he has fulfilled the highest tenet of our law. Sire--" Seekin bowed low. "--whatever it may be, I accept his fate."

The words were simply spoken. The soft slurred sounds hardly disturbed the quiet air. But they carried a wealth of meaning.

Over the vast throng a sigh arose as if the watching Martians were seeing a miracle. For the first time since he had been on Mars, Boyd Larkin saw a real smile appear on the bleak and bitter face of Malovar. The smile was almost a benediction.

The benediction of that moment was shattered by a furious blast of sound.

_Brrrrp, brrrrp, brrrrp!_

The sound of _Kell_ guns in operation.