The champion of the world was saved by the bell. His excited, panic-stricken manager picked up a pitcher of water, and threw the entire contents in the heavy-weight's face. The entire contents was in the form of a hard sphere of water. The sphere struck the dazed, almost unconscious fighter on the forehead. It was the only case on record of a fighter being knocked out between rounds....
"I am sorry you are not able to drink, when there is so much water around you. But you must not touch it, see? Olduk must not touch it either. Tell all your friends. Thank you," Olduk concluded.
He bowed and turned away, leaving the station manager to do the rest.
Then he placed his twelve foot body into a specially made chair, and waited. The waiting was not long. A knock came on the door, and the door was thrust open. Five men in civilian clothes stood there.
"You, Olduk," said one in an ugly tone. "You're under arrest."
The five men circled him.
Olduk drew his cape tighter about him. "Very well," he complied, and led the way out of the room, thinking wistfully of his native planet.