He tried twice more to get me with his flaming breath, and both times I was able to avoid it by inches. Or nearly so, at least. I kept my life, though hair and clothes were singed. * * * * * I had worked my way, involuntarily toward the press boxes, and took time to shoot up a desperate glance in Suzi's direction. Her face had lost its coldness now; her lips were parted in fear. Almost, I was able to smile. Suzi knew the signs--as did all the rest of the reporters--she'd seen too many meets not to know when a gladiator was using his last iota of strength and was on the verge of collapse. She knew--possibly even better than I--how long I could keep up this pace. And then-- Seeing her, recalled her way of finding a slogan, a quotation of the ancients, for almost every situation that arose. And in the recalling one came to me! _Meet fire with fire._ The Centaurian was emerging from the crater where its most recent charge had taken it. I ran with what speed I could muster to the Judges' stand and grasped one of the sacred Venusian torches that flanked the Judges' bench. I turned then and sped toward the enemy in hopes of getting him as he climbed over the crater edge. He saw me coming and tried ineffectively to scorch me with his flaming breath, but he was either growing weak, or had utilized all the fuel his body produced for the effort. The flame leaped out a mere six or eight feet. Holding the torch in hand, I dashed straight at him. As I had hoped, one of the lobster claws darted at me. I leaped nimbly to one side, bounced up upon the claw and scampered up it toward the four glaring eyes. I thrust the torch out and into them, hearing as though from a great distance, the cheer of victory that went up from the stands. Then sliding, falling, tumbling, I was on the ground again and hurrying as fast as possible from what I expected to be the painful, blinded throes of the thing. I turned and stared. It stood there, watching me. Showing no signs of distress. It rumbled, finally, angrily, "You can't fool me all of the time, Terran. Soon you will tire, then I will get you--" Suzi's books came back to me again. What was it I was trying to remember? I stood there panting, realizing the ridiculousness of standing exhausted in the middle of the arena and remembering odds and ends that Suzi had told me about the ancients. And then, just as the Centaurian headed for me again, it clicked. A silence had settled down over the crowd. Arena wise, through years of watching gladiatorial events, they knew my knees were sagging, my reflexes slowed, my muscles screaming protest. I stood there, sword in hand, directly in its path--waiting. It had said, "You can't fool me all of the time, Terran." And that's what had clicked. _You can fool some of the people some of the time...._ * * * * *