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Dazzalox race. At this very moment, how silently the Dazzalox women sat at the sides of their
unsuspecting males, like charges of electric death awaiting the flip of a switch.
Back toward the pool the chains pulled Allison.
Now his eyes widened in horror as he counted off three Dazzalox, lithe and well muscled. Each of them
wielded a black metal double-edged ax, and all three were now enthusiastically engaged in warming up.
They pranced around the open arena in their athletic uniforms, glittering with polished medallions.
Attendants tossed fruits in the air for them, which they deftly sliced with their flying axes. Up in one piece,
down in eight and the crowds hailed the feat with lusty cheers.
At last Allison was released into the circular pen a fence of vertical iron bars that enclosed the pool. His
wrists were free again, his mantle was removed. He wore only his slave trunks. Bars clanged after him.
So this was the arena for his execution! Without hesitation, Allison plunged into the pool.
A dozen easy strokes took him across and he climbed up on the narrow walk that bordered the pool.
The walk, like the ten-inch discs in the water, was chipped and hacked. Allison sat with his back against
the bars of the fence and let his feet rest in the cool water. His arms involuntarily jerked and trembled.
Stall for time, he kept saying to himself in a voiceless whisper. Just keep stalling for time.
ONE of the floating discs brushed past his feet. He kicked at it, then leaped onto it. It was as buoyant as
cork. He crossed to the other two discs the flow of the river through the pool kept them in constant
circulation and jumped back to the narrow walk.
Now, amid a loud ovation, the three muscular choppers entered the pen and the gate was fastened
behind them. They stood together ceremoniously, with their long-handled axes uplifted, while an official
on the outside made a presentation speech.
The crowd listened breathlessly. Between the announcer s sentences Allison could hear the bubbling of
the river as it seeped along under the stadium floor, into the eddying pool, and out again through its
underfloor passage. Perhaps
No, the very words of the announcer extinguished a sporadic hope that flashed through Allison s
mind the hope of an underfloor escape. In substance the announcer said:
& and he has been condemned to die by the Floating Chop. There is no escape from the Floating
Chop. The surrounding fence is made of strong bars with spears at the top. Beneath the water there are
walls of metal bars and of stone which narrow to a point. The culprit must either meet his death by the
ax or drown.
The choppers have a sporting chance to kill him. If they succeed before drowning overtakes him, they
shall win the Ancient Award of the Floating Chop. If they fail, all three will lose their titles of Floating
Choppers. A salute to their success!
The choppers, standing in a line across the pool from Allison, swung their axes in circles and called out
some unintelligible response in unison. They came to attention again while the announcer finished.
Remember that the rules cannot be violated, he said, in effect. The culprit s members must be severed
in a precise order: first, the two feet, then the two hands, finally the head. You are now ready. Begin!
The subterranean canyons rocked with yelping cheers of the male Dazzalox.
Eagerly the three choppers tightened their grips on their axes. The one dressed in green started around
the circular walk in one direction, the orange axman took the other. The yellow one stood where he was.
Allison dived for the center of the pool.
He came up to see a yellow-clad form floating toward him on a disc. He caught his breath and looked for
an open corner. There wasn t any such thing. Not as long as the two choppers were running around on
the narrow circular walk.
Allison swam for a disc, climbed up onto it. The advantage of Mercury s slightly lighter gravity kept
surprising him as he accustomed himself to the water. But other less pleasant surprises soon flooded in
upon him too swiftly for him to collect his thoughts surprises in the form of leaping choppers and
spinning axes.
He sprang backward from the disc barely in time to escape the black streak that whizzed past his feet.
He plunged for the center of the pool and stayed there, treading water, studying the vicious yellow eyes,
trying to gauge where the next attack would come from.
The yellow chopper floated near him on a disc. The axman s double eyebrows were squinted menacingly
toward the water, his wicked blade was poised. He was trying to sight Allison s submerged feet. He
floated past without doing any damage, and the crowd clamored for action.
THE green chopper was dancing about on the next disc, swinging the flat of his ax against the waves to
slap water into Allison s face in order both to enrage and confuse him.
Suddenly the orange man plunged from the side, ax and all. He swam underwater, but the waves showed
where he was coming. Allison surface-dived and cut well under him.
Another dive sounded, and Allison looked up from a depth of several feet to see a chopper coming
straight down toward him. With a swift twist Allison plunged deeper. He realized by now that the
advantage of vision was with whoever was underneath, for all the light came from above the pool.
But suddenly it dawned on him, as he scraped against a narrowing wall, that the cone itself was a
treacherous trap. The deeper he went, the easier it would be for three axmen to close in on him. He
switched back, barely passing a third diver as he shot upward. A hard hand clutched at his ankle. He
kicked out of it and bobbed up to the surface like a jumping fish. An instant later he was up on the
ragged walk, panting furiously.
Three ugly Dazzalox heads came up. Three axes caught on the edge of the walk and the choppers pulled
themselves up with practiced skill.
There was a moment s hesitation while the green axman gibbered a word of instruction. Then two of
them came racing around the perimeter, one from each direction. The third leaped out to a floating disc
and waited.
Allison dived again. There was nothing else to do.
He made as if to dive deeply; then with distended eyes searching the green waves for forms above him,
he switched back to retrace his course. It was an old trick he had used when he was a boy playing tag at
the lake. Five seconds after the three choppers dived for him, he was upon the surface again.
But he was well aware that all the tricks he could muster would not last long against their teamwork&
To the utter amazement of the roaring, bellowing crowds, Allison s wily tactics lasted for most of half an
hour. By that time he was nearly exhausted, both physically and mentally. Had it not been for the rules,
his hands and head would never have survived the ceaseless attacks. As it was, nine times the ax blades
had bit into his legs.
Three of the cuts stung him constantly. The sharp pains soaked upward through his legs, and blood and
strength seeped away from him. But there was nothing to be done about that. The crowd yelped for
action and the three choppers closed in on him again.
Allison dived deeply. For the first time he allowed himself to go down down down.
The walls of the cone narrowed around him. If the choppers should follow But an upward glance told
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