Already the Martians were beginning to trickle into the lower seats when the humans arrived at the top of the vast bowl. "What the hell goes on here?" Roy Larkin kept demanding. "I don't like this." "You've got your _Kell_ guns, what are you afraid of?" the trader asked. "I'm not afraid," the younger man angrily answered. "Except for the metal rods the old gooks are carrying, they're not armed. Hell, we're not afraid of them. It's just that I don't know what the hell is supposed to take place." "You'll find out," Boyd Larkin answered. In the center of the vast amphitheater was a raised stone altar. In this dry atmosphere, the red stains on it never weathered away. Directly behind the altar was a chair. Malovar was already taking his place in this chair. Leading up to the altar, a double line of elders was forming. Other elders had already made a large circle of living statues around their ruler. With only the slightest perceptible hesitancy in his stride, Larkin went down the steps of this coliseum. Very vaguely he wondered how many Martians had traveled this path in the centuries gone. There must have been uncounted millions of them. He, personally, had seen most of the inhabitants of Sudal pass this way at one time or another. He had passed this way himself upon his arrival here. He had not fully understood what could happen then, he had been hurt to the bottom of his soul, and he had not cared much what did happen. He had passed the test, then and later. But now-- Malovar's warning of the night before was still ringing in his ears. "My regret will not stay my hand at the time of the testing." "Where the hell are we supposed to go?" Roy Larkin questioned, as they reached the bottom of the steps. "This looks like a Roman circus, or something." "Follow me," the trader answered. His step was firm as he trod between the lines of the elders. He knew them, all of them, he had sold minerals to most of them. Now their faces were as immobile as stone. They seemed never to have seen him. At this moment, he was a stranger among them, an alien they did not seem to know. He walked up in front of the altar, stood facing Malovar. Sitting in the big throne chair behind the altar, the face of the Martian ruler was a mask far more bleak than the faces of his elders. Now in this moment he wore the regalia of his office, the carved jeweled crown, the diadem of gems suspended from his throat. Either the crown or the diadem would have been worth a fortune back on Earth. Behind him, Larkin heard the humans catch their breath at the sight of these jewels. He knew what they were thinking: a few quick bursts from the _Kell_ guns and this fortune would be theirs. "Are you prepared for the test?" Malovar's eyes centered on Larkin. "I am prepared, Sire. But why am I being tested now?" "Any individual may be tested at any time the welfare of the people in my opinion requires such testing." The Martian words seemed almost to be part of a ritual.