"E. E. Doc Smith - Subspace 2 - Subspace Encounter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

Wherefore Rodnar's instantaneous and slashing attack, a fractional instant ahead of the
champion's, took all of the experts by surprise and almost succeeded. In fact, and in a

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very small way, it did succeed. In spite of everything the Garshan could do to change the
trajectory of his leap, to get his leg out of the way, and/or to cut, kick, stamp, or grab
Rodnar's suddenly-wrong-sided knife-hand, the very point of Rodnar's knife did nick the
champion's leg and Garshan blood did begin to flow.

It was not at all a serious wound; it was the veriest nick. Since such wounds bleed quite
freely, however, when made by razorsharp cutting edges, it looked much worse than it
really was and the crowd went even wilder than before. For, in spite of that crowd's
innate and long-cultured savagery, practically everyone who did not have money down on
the champion was in favor of the underdog; especially since that underdog, instead of
running away from the champion, had actually taken the fight to him in the first fractional
second of the match and had actually scored first blood!

Slamming the non-skid soles of both fighting shoes against the resined texture of the
table's tightly stretched plastic cove Rodnar sprang erect and whirled around, hoping to
find the Garshan off balance and unready. He wasn't-but he wasn't quite organized for
attack yet, either, so Rodnar maintained the offensive. He feinted another dive at the
champion's backhand; then as the Garshan began to lower his guard and to whirl, he
leaped high into the air and somewhat to his own left, swinging his right leg-with the
fullest intention of driving the steel-lined toe of his fighting shoe into and through the
champion's face.

But the Garshan had been feinting, too. Or, if not exactly feinting, he knew his trade well
enough to be very skeptical indeed about `this apparent exact repetition of technique.
Wherefore he was prepared to straighten up instantly; and it took everything Rodnar had
to arch his belly out of the way of the Garshan's ultra-fast and ultra-vicious riposte-a
return slash intended to spread Rodnar's bowels all over the floor. In fact, he should have
had just a little more, for he did not escape entirely unscathed. The frantically wriggling
twist that saved him from disembowelment brought his left hip into the knife's line of drive
and he took a nick-about as serious a wound as he had inflicted on the champion a few
seconds before.

Still in the air, Rodnar grabbed the wrist of the Garshan's knife-hand and, with the
anchorage thus afforded, spun and twisted like a cat and struck with foot and hand-to
kick his foe in the solar plexus and at the same time to cut his throat. The Garshan,
however was familiar with that maneuver, too. He seized Rodnar's wrist and yanked it;
simultaneously moving his solar plexus just enough so that the combination resultant of
the motions made Rodnar miss both objectives. Then, both knife-hands being
immobilized, the Garshan went viciously into close quarters. This, he thought exultantly,
was his dish, he had broken a dozen mens' backs from this exact situation.

To break a man's back, however, you have to hold him at least momentarily in some
position or other; and Rodnar of Slaar was as hard to hold as a double armful of live eels

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