It fell short. But I think he broke the Olympic record.
I found myself cheering.
Iunio drew his sword while the javelin was still rising. He flung it up in a gladiatorial challenge, shouting, “Hail, Caesar!” and dropped into guard.
He reviled them. He told them what he thought of vermin who were not citizens, not even barbarians!
I said to myself, “Oh, oh! There goes the game. Human race, you’ve had it.”
Iunio went on and on, calling on his gods to help him, each way worse than the last, threatening them with Caesar’s vengeance in gruesome detail. I hoped that, even though it was translated, Peewee would not understand much of it. But she probably did; she understood entirely too much.
I began to grow proud of him. That wormface, in diatribe, was evil; Iunio was not. Under bad grammar, worse language, and rough manner, that tough old sergeant had courage, human dignity, and a basic gallantry. He might be an old scoundrel-but he was my kind of scoundrel.
He finished by demanding that they come at him, one at a time-or let them form a turtle and he would take them all on at once. “I’ll make a funeral pyre of you! I’ll temper my blade in your guts! I, who am about to die, will show you a Roman’s grave-piled high with Caesar’s enemies!”
He had to catch his breath. I cheered again and Peewee joined in. He looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Slit their throats as I bring them down, boy! There’s work to do!”
The cold voice said: “Let him now be returned to the space-time whence he came.”
Iunio looked startled as invisible hands pulled him along. He called on Mars and Jove and laid about him. The sword clattered to the floor-picked itself up and returned itself to his scabbard. lunio was moving rapidly away; I cupped my hands and yelled, “Good-bye, lunio!”
“Farewell, boy! They’re cowards!” He shook himself. “Nothing but filthy witchcraft!” Then he was gone.
“Clifford Russell-”
“Huh? I’m here.” Peewee squeezed my hand.
“Is this your voice?”
I said, “Wait a minute-”
“Yes? Speak.”
I took a breath. Peewee pushed closer and whispered, “Make it good, Kip. They mean it.”
“I’ll try, kid,” I whispered, then went on, “What is this? I was told you intend to judge the human race.”
“That is correct.”
“But you can’t. You haven’t enough to go on. No better than witchcraft, just as lunio said. You brought in a cave man-then decided he was a mistake. That isn’t your only mistake. You had lunio here. Whatever he was-and I’m not ashamed of him; I’m proud of him-he’s got nothing to do with now. He’s been dead two thousand years, pretty near-if you’ve sent him back, I mean-and all that he was is dead with him. Good or bad, he’s not what the human race is now.”
“I know that. You two are the test sample of your race now.”
“Yes-but you can’t judge from us. Peewee and I are about as far from average as any specimens can be. We don’t claim to be angels, either one of us. If you condemn our race on what we have done, you do a great injustice. Judge us-or judge me, at least-”
“Me, too!”
“-on whatever I’ve done. But don’t hold my people responsible. That’s not scientific. That’s not valid mathematics.”
“It is valid.”
“It is not. Human beings aren’t molecules; they’re all different.” I decided not to argue about jurisdiction; the wormfaces had ruined that approach.
“Agreed, human beings are not molecules. But they are not individuals, either.”
“Yes, they are!”
“They are not independent individuals; they are parts of a single organism. Each cell in your body contains your whole pattern. From three samples of the organism you call the human race I can predict the future potentialities and limits of that race.”
“We have no limits! There’s no telling what our future will be.”
“It may be that you have no limits,” the voice agreed. “That is to be determined. But, if true, it is not a point in your favor. For we have limits.”
“Huh?”
“You have misunderstood the purpose of this examination. You speak of ‘justice.’ I know what you think you mean. But no two races have ever agreed on the meaning of that term, no matter how they say it. It is not a concept I deal with here. This is not a court of justice.”