Earth knew a lot of killing in its day."

To Sog-chafka, Smith said, "You accused me of using psi-power in Wortan
fighting. It was kind of you to recommend clemency. However, I deny the
accusation."

"He has psi-power," screamed Jorak of Gyra from the top bench. He shook
green fists.

"You said only a few Earthmen had psi-power," Sog-chafka said.

"I didn't. I said it's never used on Earth. There's a difference."

"You said you...."

"Didn't use it," Smith said. "What psi-power you have, came from Earth.
We of Earth developed it. But it's been a long time since we have
bothered with it. But though I'm a little bit rusty now, I'll show
you--"

None of them ever knew what a dreadful moment that was for Smith ... who
knew his capacity for psi-power, but had never bothered to use it
before.

He concentrated.

Twenty Dominant women of Bortinot fell writhing on the mats.

They writhed for a while, then got up and sat down again. Perspiration
was heavy on their faces, and they panted heavily, and their eyes were
slightly glazed with psychic shock.

Smith's head ached. But he would never show it. He was rusty all right.

Sog-chafka and Kard shifted once and seemed uneasy.

Smith said. "I did that to demonstrate a point, which is that if I want
to use psi-power here, I'll not fool around with any puny amount of it
such as I was accused of doing earlier. I prefer fighting the Wortan
way. Psi-power fighting is pretty unhealthy stuff. Minds getting all
wrapped up together in combat. It's finally like beating yourself...."

Smith laughed at the two giants. "Well," he said.

Kard rushed. Smith dropped to hands and knees, pinched Kard's legs, held
them perpendicular from the knees down. Kard's rushing weight carried
his body on over. His knees popped. He screamed and fell moaning on the
mat.

Sog-chafka was already rushing and he tried to duck as Smith lunged
upward. The sound in the room was cracking and sharp. Sog-chafka, the
instructor in Wortan fighting, stumbled back and his thick arms dug at
the air and a laxness showed under the skin-tight black uniform. Blood
ran on the mats as Sog-chafka refused to go down any further than his
knees. His head hung loosely and he slowly raised his blood-shot eyes.

His massive face twisted. Kard of Shilon lay groaning a little, nursing
dislocated knees.

Sog-chafka remained bent, powerful thighs driving as his toes dug into
the mat in a pounding, hurtling running dive, h