Jonathan chuckled, "Next thing you'll be telling me I do it like an expert!" Head to one side, Adatha Za surveyed him. At last she nodded pertly, laughing a little. "Yes, I think you do. And no one ever became perfect without practice!" "Don't forget. Shar Bytu made me a perfectionist." Adatha Za sighed as she nestled back into his arms, and whispered, "There are some things, Jonathan Morgan, that even evolution can't do." IV Adatha Za came for him the next day, to go with him to the Arena. Her eyes were dark and sunken, her soft red mouth quivering. Her hair hung loose, uncoiffed. She came into his arms and kissed him; drew back to look up into his face, trembling. "I am glad for last night," she whispered. "Though I did have hopes--some day in my villa over the Jaralayan Sea--" She buried her face against his chest, moving it slowly from side to side, distrait. "Hey," yelped Jonathan, lifting her face with a finger beneath her chin. "Why the gloom? I thought we'd decided last night that I had a chance." "You did--last night. Today ... today Shar Bytu announced that the winner of the mental monomachy is to attempt the black shadows! So--" "Oof," Jonathan grunted, "that sort of knocks the stilts out from under a guy. No matter who wins, both will die, unless--no, the age of miracles passed a long time ago. What does Morka Kar say to that?" "Oh, he raved and swore, but he dared do nothing to disobey. After all, he is a scientist, and he is here to fight those flames. Even he cannot hope to fight all the scientists on Neeoorna right now. I--I think he will temporize. Have the monomachy declared a draw. That will allow him to save face and his life at the same time." "I'm going to win if I can," Jonathan said slowly. "I just don't cotton to that guy." Her long fingernails bit into the flesh of his wrists. Her voice was hoarse, desperate, "By Lallista's brood, Jonathan! Do not anger him. Your one chance is in Morka Kar's willingness to spare you that he may spare his own self. If he loses that temper of his--Jonathan, I want you alive." He patted her bare shoulder, smiling. "I'll still see that villa on the sea, honey. Don't fret your lovely head about it. But it's time to go, now. I don't want this affair called off on a forfeit." They walked slowly, hand in hand, along the pebbled path to the great white Amphitheatre. It rose tall and grim, brooding over the lovely square that fronted its entrance. The square was deserted. Their footfalls sounded loud in their ears. They went up the steps and through the oval doorway. Alone, they went down the black corridor toward the arena. The seats were filled, inside the arena room. The batteries of ten thousand eyes gloomed at Jonathan as he walked toward the great ivory chair set on the sanded field. He knew Morka Kar watched him from the ebony throne opposite the ivory chair, but he'd be damned before he'd glance his way!