“They can not use unicorns for the Unolympics; they’re not objective. Too much rivalry between the Herds. It’s the same with the other species; they all have to use outside judges. Now if thou wilst excuse me, I must to my station.”
“Station?”
“I am a judge too. Didn’t I tell thee?”
“Now I’ve seen everything!” Stile muttered.
“Not quite. But when thou spyest Black judging, two pavilions down, then mayhap thou canst consider it close enough to everything.” She moved off.
A demon arrived—and also a young man with the head of a hawk. They joined the Yellow Adept at the front of the pavilion. This was the team of judges for one section of the Unolympics.
The contestant-unicoms were now trotting to their places. There was a brief period of confusion as they criss-crossed the field. Then columns formed before the several judging stations. Sixteen unicorns formed a line before the Adept pavilion, standing at equine attention. This station, it developed, was judging the acrobatics. Others judged speed-trials, high- and long-jumps, horn-fencing, melody-playing, dancing and precision gaits. Neysa and her brother Clip had entered the category of couples-dancing, and that was at a far corner of the field; Stile could not make out what was going on there, to his frustration. So he turned reluctantly to the local display. Twelve of the entrants were males—not herd leaders, just lesser stallions. The Herd system had no regard for the needs of un-dominant males; they were not allowed to breed with the mares, and were tolerated in the herds only so long as they kept their places. In time of war. Stile was sure, their place was at the forefront, as expendable troops. Naturally they participated in the Unolympics; it was a major peacetime opportunity to achieve recognition. In fact, Stile realized, these various Olympics represented to the animal kingdoms the same sort of entertainment, excitement and chance for individual notoriety that the Game and Tourney did for serfs in Proton. It was a parallel system, used as a relief-valve for the frustrations of the undertrodden.
Yellow, as an Adept, assumed direction of the proceedings at this station. “Equine, thou’rt designated number One,” she said to the unicorn on the far left. “When that number is called henceforth in this judgment, do thou answer promptly or forfeit whatever honor may be due thee. Understand?”
The designated unicorn dipped his horn submissively. Yellow then counted off the others, up to the last, number Sixteen. “We are the preliminary panel of judges,” she continued. “The Demon Horrawful, who is an Elder of his den and has served with fiendish distinction at other Olympics; in his youth he was a winner at this same event at the Demolympics.” There was a smattering of polite applause, mostly from the spectators now crowding close to the edge of the pavilion, a number of whom were demons.
“And this is Glynteye the Hawkman, winner of the Avolympic rabbit-spotting meet last year. He is competently versed to spot the antics of unicorns.” There was more applause, especially from the animalheads present. “And I am the Yellow Adept,” she concluded. “In life I am an old human crone whose business is known to most animals. Were it not for the sufferance granted visitors at this event, I would be mobbed. However, I believe I am qualified as a judge of fine animals, and I am in this respect objective.”
There was a pause, and then some extremely tentative applause. The Lady Blue looked about, frowned, then set her jaw and clapped her hands. The consort of Green joined her. Then Stile and the Green Adept had to join in, and the outside animals, shamed into a better sense of the occasion, finally made a more substantial showing. All had a horror of Yellow’s business of trapping and selling animals, but all antagonisms were theoretically suspended here. Yellow did indeed appear to be competent and objective. Stile was reminded yet again of the parallel of Proton. The Rifleman had shown him favor, causing the other Citizens to react with similar courtesy despite the gulf between Citizen and serf. The Lady Blue had been the catalyst this time, but the spirit was the same. “Now withdraw to the sides and rear,” Yellow directed, betraying her surprised pleasure at the applause by only a slight flush at her neck. “Form an arena, open only at the spectator’s side. No alien magic can function here.” And the unicorns did as she bid, so efficiently that Stile realized this was a standard procedure. Indeed, all the stations were forming similar formations.
“Number One ‘corn stand forward,” Yellow said, and the first stallion moved to the center of the arena, facing the pavilion. “Thou and each other entry will have two minutes to make thy presentation. Each act will be followed by a one-minute consultation of judges and announcement of aggregate score. Applause of up to thirty seconds will be permitted only at that time. If there are any questions at this point, stifle them.”
