Almost nothing—but enough. To a man who had played blindfold baseball, it was plenty. He knew that someone not ten paces behind him had thrown something heavy, and he knew its exact trajectory to within a thousandth of a millimeter, and he knew exactly how to move his head to avoid the missile.
He moved it, at the same time jerking his body to one side. It had only been a guess—but what more did a Guesser need?
From the first hint of warning to the beginning of the dodging motion, less than half a second had passed.
He started to spin around as the heavy object went by him, but another warning yelped in his mind. He twisted a little, but it was too late.
Something burned horribly through his body, like a thousand million acid-tipped, white-hot needles jabbing through skin and flesh and sinking into the bone. He couldn't even scream.
He blacked out as if he'd been a computer suddenly deprived of power.
II
Of course, came the thought, a very good way to put out a fire is to pour cold water on it. That's a very good idea.
At least, it had put out the fire.