Birthright

7: THE OLYMPIANS

...Like the Pony Express, which earned a place in human history far surpassing the importance of its accomplishments in its eleven-month lifetime, so did the cult of the Olympians receive an amount of publicity totally out of proportion to its achievements during its brief, twenty-two month existence. This in no way is meant to denigrate those romantic idols of the early Democracy, for at that time Man needed all the heroes he could get, and certainly no group ever filled that need with the zest and flourish of the Olympians...

—Man: Twelve Millennia of Achievement ...Perhaps worthy of a passing mention are the Olympians,

for it is doubtful that any other segment of humanity so accurately mirrored Man's incredible ego, his delight in humiliating other races, and... —Origin and History of the Sentient Races, Vol. 8 There were fifty thousand beings in the stadium, and countless billions more watching via video. And every last one of them shared the same goal: to watch him go crashing down to defeat. “Big moment's coming up!” said Hailey, who slapped life into his legs as he lay, face down, on the rubbing table. “Today's the day we'll show ‘em, big fella.” He stared dead ahead, unmoving. “You hope,” he said. “I know,” said Hailey. “You're a Man, kid, and Men don't lose. Ready to meet the press yet?” He nodded.

The door was unlatched, and a flood of reporters, human and nonhuman, pressed about him. “Still think you're going to take him, Big John?” He nodded. Olympians were known for their reticence. They had managers to answer questions. “It's one hundred and thirty degrees out there,” said another. “Not much oxygen, either.” He simply stared at the reporter. No question had been asked, so he offered no answer. “Boys,” said Hailey, stepping in front of him, “you know Big John's got to get emotionally up for this, so shoot your questions at me. I'll be happy to answer any of them.” He flashed a confident grin at one of the video cameras.

“I didn't know Olympianshad any emotions,” said a Lodin XI reporter sarcastically. “Sure they do, sure they do,” jabbered Hailey. “They're just too professional to show ‘em, that's all.” “Mr. Hailey,” said a space-suited chlorine-breather, using his T-pack, “just exactly what does Mr. Tinsmith hope to prove by all this?”

“I'm glad you asked that question, sir,” said Hailey. “Very glad indeed. It's something I'm sure a lot of your viewers have wondered about. Well, let me put the answer this way: Big John Tinsmith is an Olympian, with all that that implies. He took his vows four years ago, swore an oath of total abstinence from sexual congress, alcoholic stimulants, detrimental narcotics, and tobacco. As a member of the cult