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Stanton leaped back with a gasp of pain. The Nipe didn't use fists. He used his open hand, fingers together, like a judo fighter. The Nipe came forward once more, and as Stanton danced back, the Nipe made a grab for his ankle, almost catching it. There were too many hands to watch! Stanton had two advantages: weight and reach. His arms were almost half again as long as the Nipe's.
Treachery, or, perhaps worse, a kind of poised and poisonous mental judo? Nelsen looked at the other man, who wore a Tovie armor. Tall, starvation-lean. Horse-faced, with a lugubrious, bumpkinish smile that almost had a whimsical appeal. "Honest I just picked up Igor which ain't his real name in the course of my travels," Tiflin offered lightly. "He used to be a comic back in Eurasia.
Stanton moved in to press his advantage and landed a beaut on the Nipe's lower left eye. Then he tried a body blow. It wasn't too successful. The alien had an endoskeleton, but he also had a hide that was like somewhat leathery chitin. He pulled back, out of the way of the Nipe's judo cuts. His fists were beginning to hurt, and his leg was paining him badly where the Nipe had clamped on to it.
There was less than a second of doubt. The men were after them! Rick saw Scotty crouch as an Arab charged, saw the Arab go headlong through the air as Scotty caught him in a judo throw. Then Rick and Hassan were fighting for their lives! An Arab rushed at Rick, arms widespread, and the boy stepped between the arms and threw a short punch that caught the attacker squarely on the nose.
Our actual and legal residence has always been there. The tax situation, you know." "I don't know, no. Taxes don't bother me much. But go ahead. You teach a few courses. In?" "Oh, bars, trapeze, ground-and-lofty tumbling, acrobatics, aerialistics, high-wire, muscle-control, judo all that kind of thing." "Ouch!
Even if he were completely well, the results would have been the same. It would merely have taken longer. Kennon drove a vicious judo chop to the junction of the Lani's neck and shoulder. Brute strength was no match for the highly evolved mayhem that every spaceman learns as a necessary part of his trade. George had never been on planet leave in a spaceport town.
It was the best move he could have made, from Rick's point of view. The boy knew he could not compete with either man in strength. He had to depend on speed, and the infighting tricks he had learned from Scotty. He used one now. At the last moment he side-stepped and his hand flashed down. It was a judo chop, the hand held stiff, the blow delivered with the side opposite the thumb.
She did have knowledge of Judo and fully believed that any violent intruders would regret trespassing on her space but she knew that it did not protect her from the fact that she was a tenuous mortal, a woman with a baby in a flimsy trailer, and that this trailer was in an inauspicious location in one of the more violent countries on the planet.
The charge came at last as the crew grew impatient and yelled their impatience to see the prisoner taught a lesson. But Ross did not believe it was that which sent Vistur at him. The Hawaikan simply thought he knew the best way to take the Terran. Ross ducked so that a hammer blow merely grazed him. But the Terran's stiffened hand swept sidewise in a judo chop.
This must be a showdown, perhaps even a declaration of open hostilities between Wreckers and the older race. Or perhaps the pause was a subtle weapon of the Foanna, used to throw a less-sophisticated enemy off balance, as a judo fighter might use an opponent's attack as part of his own defense. When the Foanna did make answer it came in the singsong of chanted words.
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