I turned. Morrie had wrenched a pipe from the water purifier and was getting set to dive at me.
Chapter 8
Crouching, I awaited Morrie's onslaught. He held the aluminum pipe—about a three-foot length—biding his time, his mouth twisting in bitter frustration. I remember thinking how lucky I was that the improvised weapon was aluminum and not heavy iron. Small consolation, I thought. He can certainly knock me out with it.
But Morrie's angry face showed more than a desire to make me unconscious. He had the wild eyes of a madman, and there was murder in his movements.
He swung the pipe. I ducked and it passed so close to my skull that I could feel it brush through my hair. The force of the blow tore his feet from the floor and he sailed upward, glancing off the garden trays so that he turned a somersault and came down on his feet above my head.
I sprang at him. He stepped aside and swung the pipe, catching me a glancing blow on the shoulder and knocking me across the ship and against the water purifier. The machine was already a shambles, both of us having hit it. The steam spurted into the room—water dripped on the floor.
Bruised and cautious, I shuffled around the ship toward him. He stood waving the pipe like a batter in a baseball game, determined not to miss again. I could see it in his eyes.
I moved within reach and he struck. But this time I didn't dodge. I caught the blow on my arm. Pain shot through it, but I'd caught the blow soon enough to prevent the full force from breaking the bone. As it hit, I seized the pipe with my other hand and twisted it sharply. It came out of Morrie's grasp.
He lunged toward me. I threw him back with a punch aimed at his chin, landing on his chest instead. He crouched to attack and I threw the pipe at him. Once more I didn't figure on the ten per cent gravity. The pipe went over his head and crashed into the bulkhead at the other end of the ship.
He sprang and I caught him. We stood with our magnetized shoes anchored to the floor, swinging, ducking, punching, each now angry enough to kill. We were about evenly matched as far as muscles and weight were concerned, but Morrie was showing the strength of a maniac. My punch staggered him but did no real damage. He came back and feinted. I suckered and he brought two punches against my chin and belly that sent me to the floor. Only the fact that I rolled with the punches kept me from being kayoed. He tried to dive on me, but I scrambled out of the way. We were both beginning to show some signs of damage. I had a soreness in the belly where he'd landed his blow, and his cheek had been cut by my knuckles. He dived at me again. I scored on his chin but he managed to get me in a clinch.