“First things first, Lum,” said Elissa. “Peron, you have to meet the mystery man. This is Mario Kallen.”

“Hello.” Peron stood up to take the hand of the second place winner, and found he was grasping empty air. Kallen was blushing a bright red, and looking away. “Pleased to meet you.” The voice was a whisper, deep in the throat. Peron looked at Kallen again, and noticed for the first time the red lines of scar tissue on his Adam’s apple.

“Let’s all sit down,” Lum said cheerfully. “We have an hour yet before the interview, and I want to tell you what Kallen has been telling me about Planetfest.”

“Don’t you have to find Sy, too?” asked Elissa.

“I already did. He told me to go to blazes, said he didn’t want any fool interviews.” Lum pulled back the bench so that he and Kallen could sit down. “He’s an interesting case, old Sy. I don’t know how he could do so well with that injured arm, but he certainly didn’t get any extra points from the judges for tact and diplomacy.”

Elissa winked at Peron. Nor does Lum, said her smile. She turned innocently back to the other two.

“I’ve thought of nothing but Planetfest for two years, but I’d like to hear something new.”

“You will,” said Lum grimly. “Go on, Kallen.”

Kallen sat for a moment, rubbing his hands together. He again turned red with embarrassment. “I thought of nothing but Planetfest, too,” he said at last, in that throaty, pained voice. Then he hesitated, and looked helplessly from one person to the next. What had been difficult to tell to one person was impossible to tell to three.

“How about if I say it, and you tell me when I get it wrong?” said Lum quickly. “That way I’ll have a chance to see if my understanding is correct.” Kallen nodded gratefully. He smiled in a sheepish fashion at Elissa, then looked away to the corner of the room.

“I suspect we all did the same sort of thing when we started out in the trials,” said Lum. “Once I knew I was going to be involved, I set out to discover everything I could about the Planetfest games — when they started, how they’re organized, and so on. I’d heard vague talk, nor more than random words really, about Gossameres and Pipistrelles, or Immortals and Skydown. People mentioned S-space and N-space. I wanted to know what they were all about, or at least get the best rumors I could.”

Peron and Elissa nodded assent. It was exactly what they had done themselves. “But Kallen’s case was a little different. He was legally old enough — just — for the previous games. He was born on the exact cutoff date, right at midnight. And he went through all the preliminary rounds then. He aced them.”

Kallen blushed a brighter red. “Never said that at all,” he whispered. “I know. But it’s true. Anyway, that’s when he had his accident. A carriage wheel broke apart as it went past him, and a piece of a spoke speared his throat. It cost him his vocal cords, and it took him out of circulation for almost a year. And of course it killed off all his hopes for the trials. That looked like the end of it, except that Kallen was born in border country, between two planetary time zones. He found out his birth was recorded twice, in two different zones. According to one zone he was an hour younger. Still young enough to try again, in this trial. So he applied again, and here he is. “But before the trials began this time, he was very curious to catch up on the results of the last one. He remembered the people who had competed, and he was pretty sure, from his own experiences, who the winners would be. He checked, and sure enough he was right. The top twenty-five had seven people that he remembered. And in the off-planet tests, three of those had finished in the final ten. They had gone through the preliminary rounds with Kallen, and they’d all become pretty good friends.”

Peron and Elissa were listening, but they were both beginning to look a little puzzled. It hardly seemed that Kallen’s tale held any surprises.

Lum had caught the look that passed between them. “Wait a bit longer before you yawn off,” he said. “You’ll find something to keep you awake in a minute. I did. “He tried to get in touch with them, but not one of them had gone back to their home region. According to their families, they were all working in big jobs for the government, and they all sent messages and pictures home. Kallen saw the videos, and it was the same three people he remembered. And the messages replied to questions from their families, so they couldn’t be old videos, stored and sent later. But they never came home themselves, not in four years. They had stayed off-planet. They were out there, somewhere in the Fifty Worlds.” Kallen lifted his hand. “Don’t assume that,” he whispered. “I don’t assume that.”

“Quite right. Let’s just say they might be somewhere in the Cass system. Or they could be even farther away. Anyway, at that point, Kallen got nosy. He checked back to the previous Planetfest, the one before he was involved. With over a billion people on Pentecost, the odds that you’ll know a finalist personally are pretty small. But you know the old idea, we’re only three people away from anybody. You’ll know somebody who’ll know somebody who’ll know the person you want to get to. Kallen starting looking — he’s persistent, I found that out the hard way in the Seventh Trial, when we were both lost in The Maze. And he finally found somebody who had been knocked out in the preliminary trials from the earlier ‘Fest, but who was a friend of a winner. And that winner had never been home since the off-planet trials.”

Lum paused and stared at Peron, who was nodding his head vigorously. “You don’t seem very surprised. Are you telling me you know all this?”

“No. But I had a similar experience. I tried to reach a former winner from our region, and I got the runaround. She was supposed to be off-planet, and unavailable, but she’d be happy to answer written questions. And she did, eventually, and sent a video with it. Kallen, are you suggesting that none of the off-planet winners come back to Pentecost? That doesn’t seem to make much sense. Why would they want to stay away?”

Kallen shrugged.

“No reason that we can think of,” said Lum. “Let me give you the rest of it. When Kallen went through the preliminaries on the previous Planetfest, there was a contestant called Sorrel. He never came first in any trial, but he was always high enough to make the cutoff for the next round. He was easy-going, and popular, and he seemed to hit it off well with the guards, but he never got any publicity from the government media. Three other things: he never seemed to need much sleep; he tended to know bits and pieces of information that others didn’t — because a cousin of his had been a finalist in a previous ‘Fest. And he was completely bald. That make you think of anybody we know?”

“Wilmer,” said Elissa and Peron in unison.

“But he can’t be,” went on Elissa. “He couldn’t compete twice. He wouldn’t be allowed to, unless he was a freak like Kallen — oh, don’t look like that. You know what I mean, he’d have to be born at just the right time at exactly where two zones meet.”

“Didn’t compete — twice,” said Kallen softly.

“Sorrel and Wilmer don’t look anything like each other,” added Lum. “Kallen is absolutely sure they are two different people. Wilmer didn’t compete twice.” “Or even once?” said Peron thoughtfully. “We travelled back together after the Polar Trial. And I couldn’t get a word out of him about the way he’d handled the glacier crossing and crevasses. He just grinned at me. I thought at the time, he’s so cool and fresh, it’s hard to believe he’s just spent fourteen hours stretched to the limit.”

“I agree,” said Lum. “After I heard what Kallen had to say I had the same feeling. Wilmer’s not a real contestant at all. He’s a plant. I don’t think he took part in any of the trials — no one saw him during them, only before and after. The question is, why put an outside observer in with the contestants? — and a completely bald one, at that, which makes him easy to remember.” “My father told me before I entered,” said Peron. “There’s more to Planetfest than the government wants to tell. He hates the government of Pentecost, and he didn’t want me to take part in these trials. He says we’ve lived for the past four hundred and fifty years at a standstill, without real progress, ever since Planetfest began. But I didn’t take much notice. He lives for underground politics, and since I was ten years old I’ve expected that one day he’ll be arrested. Now you seem to be agreeing with him, the ‘Fest had things in it that we’ve never been told about.”