Lab
Library
Journal
Shop
Sign in
to keep
Share image
1
167
The Status Civilization
·
Robert Sheckley
163
Three
ragged
men
sat
laughing
on
a
bench,
and
a
girl
handed
him
a
small
gun.
"Luck,"
she
said.
"I
hope
you
know
how
to
use
this."
Barrent
nodded
his
thanks
before
he
noticed
that
the
girl
was
not
Moera;
she
was
the
skrenning
mutant
who
had
predicted
his
death.
Still,
he
moved
into
the
street
and
faced
the
three
Hadjis.
Two
of
the
men
were
mild-faced
strangers.
The
third,
Barrent-1,
stepped
forward
and
quickly
brought
his
gun
into
firing
position.
Barrent-2
flung
himself
to
the
ground
and
pressed
the
trigger
of
his
unfamiliar
weapon.
He
felt
it
vibrate
in
his
hand
and
saw
Hadji
Barrent's
head
and
shoulders
turn
black
and
begin
to
crumble.
Before
he
could
take
aim
again,
his
gun
was
wrenched
violently
from
his
hand.
Barrent-1's
dying
shot
had
creased
the
end
of
the
muzzle.
Desperately
he
dived
for
the
weapon,
and
as
he
rolled
toward
it
he
saw
the
second
man,
now
wearing
the
Barrent-1
face,
take
careful
aim.
Barrent-2
felt
pain
flash
through
his
arm,
already
torn
by
the
trichomotred's
teeth.
He
managed
to
shoot
this
Barrent-1,
and
through
a
haze
of
pain
faced
the
third
man,
now
also
Barrent-1.
His
arm
was
stiffening
rapidly,
but
he
forced
himself
to
press
the
trigger....
You're
playing
their
game,
Barrent-2
told
himself.
The
death-conditioning
will
wear
you
down,
will
kill
you.
You
must
see
through
it,
get
past
it.
It
isn't
really
happening,
it's
in
your
mind....
But
there
was
no
time
to
think.
He
was
in
a
large,
circular,
high-ceilinged
room
of
stone
in
the
cellars
of
the
Department
of
Justice.
It
was
the
Trial
by
Ordeal.
Rolling
across
the
floor
toward
him
was
a
glistening
black
machine
shaped
like
a
half-sphere,
standing
almost
four
feet
high.
It
came
at
him,
and
in
the
pattern
of
red,
green,
and
amber
lights
he
could
see
the
hated
face
of
Barrent-1.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
