The Dornellian stepped square into a blow to the stomach.
Oddly enough, it didn't seem to bother him much. Then Larry remembered that the Dornellian nervous system wasn't much like an Earthman's; the nerves just weren't in the same places.
But where were they? Again he cursed Blackmer. The manager hadn't told him anything about Dornellians, had let him sign for the fight with Fornax Kedrin even though it would be sheer murder.
Well, Larry thought somberly, I'll learn tonight. If I ever get out of this bar alive.
He took a deep breath and glanced at the giant, who had recovered from Larry's onslaught. The Dornellian stepped in with a fast one-two—a rake across the face with his left and a smash to the heart with his right.
The claws to his face alerted Larry for the blow to the heart; he stepped back just enough to avoid being really hurt. But the Dornellian's talons had raked his forehead, cutting in deeply. Blood was pouring down over his eyes.
He took a quick look around the bar. The customers were gathered in a ring and were watching the contest wide-eyed, as if they were in fifty-credit ringside seats.
The Dornellian still looked relatively unscratched, while Larry knew he looked as though he'd rolled over a barbed-wire fence. But in spite of the blood, Larry had finally gotten the measure of his opponent. The eight-foot giant weighed close to five hundred pounds; his mass was too great for him to be able to handle his body rapidly, no matter how fast his reflexes were.
Larry moved in again. He planted a hard right directly in the giant's throat—there had to be nerves there. The Dornellian gagged and dropped his head. Larry smiled and slammed his fist into the giant's rib cage, doubling him up even more. He could almost hear the crowd cheering now as he moved in for the kill.