Earthsmith

by Rory Magill

of Earth," Geria told him, and Smith realized,shamefully, that he had slunk off with the women. "I say there issomething glorious about fighting tooth and nail. Not depraved,certainly, unless you insist on judging it by a hidebound ethic. Go backto the mats, Smith--for me."

  He looked long at the woman, saw no guile in her eyes. Who was he tojudge? Could he dare pass judgment on a society that had left Earthbehind a score of thousand years ago? The men of Earth hadn't sent himhere, half way across the galaxy to do that.

  * * * * *

  He turned and walked stiffly to the mats. By now the men had paired offtwo and two, stood facing each other in pairs. Kard of Shilon and thethick-thewed instructor, great gold man and chunky red, reed-slendergreen man and giant orange, albinos two like alabaster statues.

  From the circle came Jorak, hands to bruised neck. He stopped, lookedSmith up and down grimly, smiled. "You have no partner, Earthsmith?"

  "I'm looking for one."

  "Well, look no more. I am tired and hurt, but I'd like to join you onthe mat." He shrugged. "Of course, if you're afraid--"

  Smith still did not feel like fighting. It might as well be Jorak as anyother--he certainly had more reason to fight Jorak. Vaguely, it seemed aneedless expenditure of energy. But he had done it again: he had put theshoe on the wrong foot--he, Smith, stood up for judgment, not theschool. "Good enough, Jorak," he said.

  In a moment, the instructor signaled them all to begin, and Smith hadone brief look at the dozen pairs of men, grappling, heard theinstructor shout, "one fall, and one fall only!" And then Jorak was uponhim.

  Jorak seemed for all the world like a snake, writhing and twisting witha deceptive sinewy strength. But calmly Smith stepped out of his reach,cuffing his ears roundly when he came too close.

  "You're afraid, afraid, afraid!" Jorak taunted. "Fight!"

  Smith shrugged. If he did not want to fight, he did not want to. But thewomen hooted, and they were hooting him, all but Geria who remainedglumly silent.

  "This is getting me nowhere," Jorak hissed. "You're making me look likea fool, Earthsmith." Perspiration bathed the purple face, stained thesides of Jorak's tunic darkly.

  And then he smiled. Smith felt giddy, hardly could keep his legs underhim, yet hardly had Jorak touched him. Then the man of Gyra was usinghis psi-powers, despite the sanction. Oddly, Smith felt detached from itall. Let him use his powers then--that would end it. Let him....

  "Fight back, Smith!" Geria cried.

  Jorak's powers were not like the woman's. He could induce giddiness,yes, but not in any overpowering quantities. Smith swayed foolishly,tipped first to left, then to right, stood for a moment with arms atsides. Jorak rushed upon him and struck out with both fists, and Smithstumbled back half a dozen steps, crashed into a pair of strugglingfigures, was dimly aware that both fell.

  Jorak came on, cocky, confident, and Smith rocked for a moment on theballs of his feet. Once and once only he lashed out with his right arm,smeared Jorak's nose flat against his face. Jorak toppled backward andfell, writhing.

  Smith looked around him, panting. The other contestants ceased theirstruggles, and the instructor said:

  "Someone has used psi. I don't know who, but someone--"

  Jorak pointed weakly, said, "Earthsmith!"

  "Snap judgment," the instructor admitted. "Your word only. Still, youalone were bested, Jorak of Gyra--and, hah, that makes twice, doesn'tit?"

  "Once with psi," said Jorak.

  "You sure?"

  "I ought to know what hit me! He held me rigid, I tell you, and then hestruck me. What could I do? I ask you, what?"

  Smith knew that the instructor could read minds--with limitations. Heknew the psi-power had been used, but he did not know who had used it.

  * * * * *

  Jorak wiped the blood from his face with the back of one hand. "Listen,"he confided, "Earthsmith is a savage, really and truly, of the planetEarth. Terribly barbaric. Obviously, he'd have no compunctions againstdirty fighting."

  "Well--" said the instructor.

  "There's only one thing wrong with all this," Smith told him. "Nobody onEarth uses psi-power."

  Jorak slapped his hand against the mat. "Then you admit that there arepsi-powers on Earth?"

  "Yes," Smith said. "There are psi-powers on Earth." Things werehappening to Smith. He felt vague stirrings inside of him, and hedampered them.

  "There. He admits it," Jorak said. "The men of Earth are not withouttheir psi-powers, and Smith or Earthsmith--I still don't know thebarbarian's name--used them on me." He shook his fist. "You just can'ttrust these barbarians."

  The instructor still did not seem sure of himself, but there were angrymutterings in the crowd, and the albino woman who had almost but notquite joined the fighters said, "Let me try a fall with him. Probably Iwould lose, but we of Nugat can perceive the psi-powers readily."

  Smith stormed away from her, felt hot anger rushing through him. "Iwouldn't fight with a woman."

  Jorak taunted, "He's afraid she'll discover--"

  "Nothing! I'm afraid of nothing, Jorak. I just won't fight a woman." Hewas shouting now, and he couldn't help it. Again, there was the oddfeeling that part of his mind at least stood away from all this,observing, shaking its head and telling him to curb his temper.

  A hand lay heavily on his shoulder, big gnarled, orange. "Kard of Shilonwould like a fall with you, Earthsmith of Earth. Perhaps I am not assubtle as the woman from Nugat, but still I think I could tell."

  The instructor nodded, and Kard spun Smith around, kept him spinningwith a short chopping blow to his jaw. Smith hardly felt it. Butsomething told him deep inside his whirling brain to fall, fall,fall--and the faintest shadow of a smile flickered across Jorak's lips.

  Win or lose--what was the difference? Those who could would feel thepsi-powers, and Smith would be their man.

  By crotch and collar he caught the huge man of Shilon, lifted him.Kard's arms and legs flailed air, helplessly. He bellowed as Smith beganto whirl, slowly at first, but then faster. Up he raised the greatorange hulk, held it aloft on outstretched arms for one moment--hurledit.

  Arms and legs still flailing wildly, Kard struck the mat, seemed almostto bounce, landed in a heap atop Jorak.

  Geria jumped up and down delightedly, but the woman of Nugat scowled."Psi," she said. "I felt it."

  "As did I," admitted the instructor. "Faintly. Smith of Earth--"

  "Don't tell me you didn't see me use my arms then, just my arms?"

  "Kard appeared awful helpless--"

  "I felt the psi," said the woman of Nugat.

  "And I," a man agreed.

  "As I said," Jorak declared smugly, "when you bring a barbarian to theschool you must expect barbarous behavior. Oh well," he stifled a yawn,"I'll get my nose fixed, of course, but this sort of thing couldcontinue. Unpleasant, is it not?"

  The instructor nodded slowly, dismissed class.

  * * * * *

  "Did you or didn't you, Smith?"

  "What do you think, Geria?"

  "I'd say no, but I did feel the psi when you threw Kard."

  "That was Jorak--and he used it on me."

  "Not very strong then, because I remember how readily I--"

  "Look, Geria. What's the difference? They've made up their minds, and Ican't do a thing about it. I didn't use the psi, I can tell you that andyou'll believe me. But it doesn't matter, really. They're convinced.What happens next?"

  The woman of Bortinot frowned. "I don't know. They could expel youpossibly. You forget I'm new at the school, too. Let's forget all aboutit. You will, anyway, in dream empathy."

  It was easy for her to say that, but Smith couldn't forget. The more hehad tried to convince them he had not employed the psi-power, could notemploy it, the more they thought that he did. He was of Earth--primitiveby their standards, a barbarian. They had said so. Culture had leapedpast Earth in all directions, had leaped so far that
he could not evenrecognize it as such, had encompassed the stars and broad new conceptsas big as the parsecs of space between the stars. How could heunderstand--ever?

  Or was there anything to understand? If he could take everything at itsface value, if he could trust his own judgment, this was not culture atall. But he had forgotten again: his judgment didn't matter. He wasbeing judged, not the school.

  "--be strictly a neophyte in dream empathy," Geria was saying. "But notme. I've had my share of it on Bortinot, and they'll be pairing us