"Now look, gang," said Naomi. "Jeanette is our protocol expert and it's her opinion that no challenge is in order. She doesn't remember any precedent for a leader returning from Matrix, but she's just taken off for the archive room to look up the records." A chorus of boos and catcalls broke out, and this got under Naomi's skin.
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, we can have this business over with right now," she shouted, snapping claws over her wrists.
I hurled myself across space, landing on the far corner of the platform, whip upraised to strike the first blow. Almost in the same instant, half a dozen aides leaped to safety on the lower plateau.
Naomi cocked her whip with lightning speed, to my surprise, lashing out ahead of me. But because of her bad eye it was a poorly aimed blow which I dodged easily, and before she could regain her balance I brought my whip down with full force across her shoulders.
She shuddered in pain, and a great red welt opened up along her neck. First blood. A roar went up from the spectators, who had now broken formation to crowd along the edges of the chasm.
Instinctively Naomi clutched for my whip, but I recoiled it in time and swung a second time. It cut searingly into her side, winding about her waist with a python action that crushed out her breath. I moved in for the kill with uplifted claws. Suddenly Naomi leaped from the dais, high into the air.
It was a brilliant defensive move. I had no time to think, but the alternatives were simple: hold onto the whip handle and be pulled after her, or let go and be minus a whip.