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have thought, to knock out a human being. But even as he was thrown to the deck, Vouhroi was
attempting to twist around in Miles' grasp, and though his head slammed hard on the uncarpeted surface
beneath them, he did not appear to be stunned.
Miles already had Vouhroi in the same full nelson which had worked so well with Chak'ha. At the same
time that Miles began to exert pressure against the other's neck, he clamped his own human legs around
the legs of Vouhroi and tried to hold them as Vouhroi attempted to kick and scramble loose. But the
alien's legs were too powerful. They broke free, and Miles shifted his leg grip to a scissors hold around
Vouhroi's narrow waist.
Vouhroi surged about and for one furious moment succeeded in rising to his feet, with Miles riding on his
back. Then Miles' weight overbalanced him and he fell backward. Lying underneath the alien, Miles
continued to apply pressure to Vouhroi's neck. He half expected the overdrive strength to come to his
aid, as it had with Chak'ha. But it did not come, and it was not needed.
Already Vouhroi's neck was starting to give. It did not, indeed, have as much inner stiffness and strength
as had Chak'ha's. Miles felt it bend and almost at once the tranquilizing gray fog, the feeling of
weakness and indifference, closed in about him and his opponent, and he drifted dimly off into
unconcern, the battle fires of emotion within him damped and extinguished.
When he woke on his bunk after this second battle, however, there was a face looming close above him.
It was the face of Chak'ha, and coming from Chak'ha, Miles sensed clearly a strange
emotion something between glee and triumph.
"Awake, Miles?" asked Chak'ha.
"Awake," replied Miles a little thickly.
The face of Chak'ha came closer. He lowered his voice to what, for him, was the equivalent of a
whisper.
"We did it, Miles! Didn't we do it?"
"I did it," said Miles. "With your help."
"That's what I mean," whispered Chak'ha savagely. "With my help. You did it withmy help. The two of
us together."
Chak'ha's eyes half-closed. Once more there came from him, to Miles' emotion-sensing capability, a
feeling of great relief and joy and friendship.
For the first time, Miles realized that Chak'ha had expected to be disowned by Miles once Miles had
moved one more step up the ladder. There was something deeply touching about the emotion that flowed
from the tiger-faced individual bent closely above his bunk. Miles reached out to grasp one of the thick,
stubby, clawed hands of Chak'ha in his own. Chak'ha looked down at the joined extremities in surprise.
"This is how we do it among my people," said Miles and shook Chak'ha's hand, then let it go. Chak'ha
looked for a moment wonderingly at his own released hand, then stared back at Miles, and the feeling of
happiness from him increased.
Miles drifted back off into slumber, carrying that feeling of happiness and friendship with him.
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In the next few weeks that followed, he fought his way up through the pecking order. In each case, after
winning, he tried to make friends with the alien he had just conquered. One or two of those he had
beaten became friendly. But none of them became as close to him as Chak'ha, who now followed him
about continually. In time, there were left only two crew members aboard who did not acknowledge
Miles' presence or answer when he spoke to them. These were Eff and Luhon, the one whom nobody
else could beat.
The opposition had grown progressively more difficult as Miles had mounted the ladder of the pecking
order. His last fight, with a dark-skinned humanoid named Henaoa, had taken all of Miles' strength and
skill to win. Logically, therefore, he could not expect to conquer the two remaining crew members. Even
if he did somehow manage to conquer Eff, certainly he would not be able to conquer Luhon.
The secrets of their individual strengths were now quite clear to him. In Eff's case, the rotund body was
all muscle he was not plump, he was a chunk of heavy-bodied power. In Luhon's case, his secret was
that speed which Miles had already observed. Certainly there must be strength connected with it. But in
any case, Luhon's reflexes were such that it would be necessary for Miles to conquer the gray-skinned
alien with his first blow because the chances were that he would not have a chance to land a second.
But Luhon was in the future. Eff was in the present, and Miles was aware that Eff had been subtly on
guard ever since Miles' last victory for all that the rotund alien appeared to ignore everyone but Luhon. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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