Brain World

Dorn was already there and making himself up a plate of the unappetizing looking Dawnworld dishes.

He said, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, “I am of the opinion that we should act on the basis that our best bet is to keep up our strengths—we’ll need them.”

The Dawnmen didn’t have the institution of different dishes for different times of the day. The food presented at this meal was identical to that Ronny had eaten at the last one. The bee-hive culture, Ronny thought inwardly. But he heaped his plate, following Dorn’s advice.

That worthy looked at Lee Chang thoughtfully. He said, “My dear, I am a physician, among other things. I could kill you quickly and almost painlessly, in seconds.”

Lee Chang looked at him and made an Oriental moue. She said, “Thanks, Dorn. But, no thanks. I follow the old saying, as long as there’s life, there’s hope. Besides, as I told you, I know kenpo. If at all possible, I’m going to get in at least one deadly blow at these funkers.”

“Well said,” Dorn rumbled. He turned back to his food, his face somewhat embarrassed.

Ronny had put down two plates for the dogs.

Boy chomped and said, “This stuff is grim. Don’t they have meat on this planet?”

Ronny said, “It would seem not. They don’t even seem to have animal life at all. That captain, or whatever he was, of the Kshatriyas, not only didn’t know what a pet was, but obviously had trouble in his telepathy in using the thought animal.”

“Some world,” Boy growled, but he went back to his food.

Roy wandered in, yawning, and began to fill a plate. He said, “I wish that they at least supplied us with reading material, or some games, or something. I’m beginning to go around the bend from sheer boredom.”

But it was then that a thought came into all of their minds.

Prepare to receive us.

Chapter Nineteen

They filed back into the living room and found the others there.

Gil said unhappily, “This is the first we’ve seen of any of them since they stuck us in here. I have a sneaking suspicion that the time has come for the annual ceremonies.”

The door opened and through it, swagger stick in hand, strode the Kshatriya officer, followed by two of his trident-bearing soldiers.

He faced them and the thought came, It is time for you to choose your weapons.

“Well, at least we’ve got a choice,” Ronny muttered.

The two soldiers posted themselves near the door, which had automatically closed. The officer approached the large center table, floating there without support and looked at its surface. The table disappeared, to reappear almost immediately covered with a wide range of weapons—hand weapons.

Ronny had never seen such a variety outside the museum in Greater Washington. Possibly half of them were unknown to the Earthlings, even from books. The rest resembled, in varying degrees, early weapons of Earth, some of them so primitive that it was difficult to believe that they would still be in use. There was even what was obviously a throwing stick, quite similar to a boomerang. There were spears in variety ranging from a flint-tipped throwing spear to metal-tipped javelins and pikes. There were various types of clubs, including a mace with a vicious-looking flanged metal head. There were swords of a dozen varieties, one even with a double blade looking as though it would make a clumsy weapon.

The six Earthlings looked down at the display in dismay. The collection looked terribly businesslike, and unlikely.

Each of you is allowed to choose two weapons for the fray.

Ronny looked at the four men from Einstein. He said, “I suggest that you each choose a short spear, one of these metal tipped ones about six feet long. You’ll use it for jabbing in protecting yourselves, rather than throwing. And a short sword, one of those that look Roman. None of you know fencing, but those have both points and double cutting edges. You can just flail away.”

The four nodded dumbly and each in turn pointed out to the Kshatriya officer their choice.

Dorn, meanwhile, had taken up the largest of the swords, which looked considerably like a double handed Viking weapon of the Dark Ages of Earth. It was obviously meant to be used gripped with two hands, since its weight precluded an ordinary man from wielding it. But Dorn swung it back and forth singlehandedly with ease, his face thoughtful.

Ronny took up a heavy short spear of the type once known on Earth as a boar spear and considered it.

Boy looked at him and said, “How about me, Boss?”

Ronny looked down at him and frowned, “How do you mean, Boy?”

Boy hung out his tongue, gave a couple of pants and said, “We Vizslas were originally war dogs. For two thousand years or more we fought side by side with the Huns on their way from Siberia to where they finally settled down around Budapest. We’re not this size for nothing and we don’t have the speed we have for nothing. The Magyars, the Huns, raised us basically as war dogs.”

Ronny stared at him. The Dawnworld Kshatriyas had never seen animals, evidently, not to speak of war dogs.

He turned to the Dawnman officer and said, “What are the rules pertaining to weapons that can be utilized in the arena?”

Any weapon can be utilized that predates powered projectiles.

“Very well, I demand the right to utilize a weapon of my own planet that predates projectiles.”

The Kshatriya scowled at him. What weapon? You brought no weapons with you. He evidently hadn’t taken in what Boy had said.

“A Magyar war dog.”

“What is a Magyar war dog?”

Ronny pointed at Boy.

The other’s face went blank for a moment. Then a new voice entered into the minds of the Earthlings. It was that of the Brahmin.

I have read your mind and memory and the information behind what you have said is correct. In the early days of Earth, men fought accompanied by their war dogs. Your request is acceptable. You shall be allowed the war dog and one other weapon.

Plotz looked up at Dorn and said, “Cut me a piece of the steak. I don’t like the smell of these people. In fact, they don’t have a smell. Dogs go by smells, and I like you but not them.”

Dorn had on his own come to the same conclusion as Ronny had. “All right,” he said. He turned to the officer. “I’ll take this sword and the female war dog.”

Ronny decided on his boar spear.

All the weapons were returned to the table which disappeared, to return almost immediately with four short spears, four short swords, Ronny’s boar spear and Dorn’s Viking-like double handed sword. The six men took them up and turned to look at the Kshatriya.

Follow me, he said in their minds and headed for one of the walls.

They eyed him in puzzlement, but fell in behind.

The women will remain here.

The two soldiers who had been posted at the door followed after.

Just before the officer reached the wall, an apperture opened in it and he marched through. The Earthlings followed along with the dogs and the two soldiers behind them.

Rosemary called out in a choked voice, “Good luck, boys.”

Lee Chang looked after them wordlessly. The four Einstein men, in particular, hardly knew how to carry their weapons.

They emerged into what had every appearance of a medieval dungeon, a sizeable dungeon of crudely worked stone, a type of granite, by the looks of it. The dungeon was completely unfurnished. It was a far cry from the