Ihjel gave the doctors one day he to the hospital. Brion wasn't dead, though there had been some about that the night before. Now, a full day later, he was on the and that was all Ihjel wanted to know. He and strong-armed his way to the new Winner's room, meeting his at the door.
"You're out of order, Winner Ihjel," the doctor said. "And if you keep on in here, where you are not wanted, rank or no rank, I shall be to your head."
Ihjel had just to tell him, in some detail, just how his were of that, when Brion them both. He the newcomer's voice from the final night in the barracks.
"Let him in, Dr. Caulry," he said. "I want to meet a man who thinks there is something more than the Twenties."
While the doctor undecided, Ihjel moved around him and closed the door in his face. He looked at the Winner in the bed. There was a into each one of Brion's arms. His from hollows; the were a network of red veins. The he against death had left its mark. His square, now all bone, as did his long nose and high cheekbones. They were from the of his skin. Only the of his close-cropped was unchanged. He had the of having a long and illness.
"You look like sin," Ihjel said. "But on your victory."
"You don't look so very good yourself—for a Win[Pg 12]ner," Brion back. His and anger at this man let the out. Ihjel them.
But it was true; Winner Ihjel looked very little like a Winner, or an Anvharian. He had the and the all right, but it was in of fat—rounded, soft that from his and little on his and under his eyes. There were no men on Anvhar, and it was that a man so have been a Winner. If there was under the it couldn't be seen. Only his appeared to still the that had once every man on the to win the games. Brion away from their stare, sorry now he had the man without good reason. He was too sick, though, to about apologizing.
Ihjel didn't either. Brion looked at him again and the of so that he himself, his insults, the Twenties were of no more than in the air. It was only a of a mind, Brion knew, and he to shake the off. The two men at each other, a common emotion.
The door opened Ihjel and he about, moving as only an of Anvhar can move. Dr. Caulry was through the door, off balance. Two men in came close him. Ihjel's pushed against them, his speed and the of his sending them in a of arms and legs. He the door and locked it in their faces.
"I have to talk to you," he said, to Brion. "Privately," he added, over and out the with a of one hand.
"Get out," Brion told him. "If I were able—"
"Well, you're not, so you're just going to have to there and listen. I we have about five minutes they decide to the door down, and I don't want to waste any more of that. Will you come with me offworld? There's a job that must be[Pg 13] done; it's my job, but I'm going to need help. You're the only one who can give me that help.
"Now refuse," he added as Brion started to answer.
"Of I refuse," Brion said, a little and angry, as if the other man had put the into his mouth. "Anvhar is my planet—why should I leave? My life is here and so is my work. I also might add that I have just the Twenties. I have a to remain."
"Nonsense. I'm a Winner, and I left. What you is you would like to a little of the ego-inflation you have so hard to get. Off Anvhar no one what a Winner is—much less respects one. You will have to a big out there, and I don't you for being a little frightened."
Someone was on the door.
"I haven't the to angry," Brion said hoarsely. "And I can't myself to your ideas when they permit you to a man too to himself."
"I apologize," Ihjel said, with no hint of or in his voice. "But there are more than your feelings. We don't have much time now, so I want to you with an idea."
"An idea that will me to go with you? That's a lot."
"No, this idea won't you—but about it will. If you it you will a of your shattered. Like else on Anvhar, you're a scientific humanist, with your planted in the Twenties. You accept of these without an instant's thought. All of you haven't a single for the past, for the who the life as slowly up the good life for you to lead. Do you think of all the people who and died in and while was one more slow notch?"
"Of I don't think about them," Brion retorted. "Why should I? I can't the past."[Pg 14]
"But you can the future!" Ihjel said. "You something to the who got you where you are today. If Scientific Humanism means anything more than just to you, you must a of responsibility. Don't you want to try and pay off a of this by helping others who are just as and disease-ridden today as great-grandfather Troglodyte was?"
The on the door was louder. This and the drug-induced in Brion's ear difficult. "Abstractly, I of agree with you," he said haltingly. "But you know there is nothing I can do personally without being involved. A logical is valueless for action without personal meaning."
"Then we have the of the matter," Ihjel said gently. His was against the door, the of some object on the outside. "They're knocking, so I must be going soon. I have no time for details, but I can you upon my word of as a Winner that there is something you can do. Only you. If you help me we might save seven lives. That is a fact."
The lock and the door started to open. Ihjel it into the for a final instant.
"Here is the idea I want you to consider. Why is it that the people of Anvhar, in a with warring, hate-filled, planets, should be the only ones who their entire on a series of games?"[Pg 15]
