trial midwinter. It would
be impossible to do during a winter that is longer than an Earth
year. With all the physical needs taken care of, boredom became the
enemy of any Anvharian who was not a hunter. And even the hunters
could not stay out on solitary trek all winter. Drink was one
answer, and violence another. Alcoholism and murder were the twin
terrors of the cold season, after the Breakdown.

It was the Twenties that ended all that. When they became a
part of normal life the summer was considered just an interlude
between games. The Twenties were more than just a contest--they
became a way of life that satisfied all the physical, competitive
and intellectual needs of this unusual planet. They were a
decathlon--rather a double decathlon--raised to its highest power,
where contests in chess and poetry composition held equal place
with those in ski-jumping and archery. Each year there were two
planet-wide contests held, one for men and one for women. This was
not an attempt at sexual discrimination, but a logical facing of
facts. Inherent differences prevented fair contests--for example, it
is impossible for a woman to win a large chess tournament--and this
fact was recognized. Anyone could enter for any number of years.
There were no scoring handicaps.

When the best man won he was really the best man. A complicated
series of playoffs and eliminations kept contestants and observers
busy for half the winter. They were only preliminary to the final
encounter that lasted a month, and picked a single winner. That was
the title he was awarded. Winner. The man--and woman--who had bested
every other contestant on the entire planet and who would remain
unchallenged until the following year.

Winner. It was a title to take pride in. Brion stirred weakly on his
bed and managed to turn so he could look out of the window. Winner
of Anvhar. His name was already slated for the history books, one of
the handful of planetary heroes. School children would be studying
_him_ now, just as he had read of the Winners of the past. Weaving
daydreams and imaginary adventures around Brion's victories, hoping
and fighting to equal them someday. To be a Winner was the greatest
honor in the universe.

Outside, the afternoon sun shimmered weakly in a dark sky. The
endless icefields soaked up the dim light, reflecting it back as a
colder and harsher illumination. A single figure on skis cut a line
across the empty plain; nothing else moved