Harrell now saw a creature close to nine feet tall, swaggering, with a mighty barrel of a chest and a huge broad-sword clutched in one of its arms. The tentacles writhed purposefully.
"You know why I'm here, alien. I want to know certain facts. And I'm not getting out of your mind until I've wrung them from you."
The alien's lipless mouth curved in a bleak smile. "Big words, little Earthman. But first you'll have to vanquish me."
And the Dimellian stepped forward.
Harrell met the downcrashing blow of the alien's broad-sword fully; the shock of impact sent numbing shivers up his arm as far as his shoulder but he held on and turned aside the blow. It wasn't fair; the Dimellian had a vaster reach than he could ever hope for....
No! He saw there was no reason why he couldn't control the size of his own mental image. Instantly he was 10 feet high and advancing remorselessly toward the alien.
Swords clashed clangorously, the forest-birds screamed. Harrell drove the alien back ... back....
And the Dimellian was eleven feet high.
"We can keep this up forever," Harrell said. "Getting larger and larger. This is only a mental conflict." He shot up until he again towered a foot above the alien's head. He swung downward two-handedly with the machete....
The alien vanished.