The fat man sank to one knee under Elliot's attack, but he turned out to be stronger than the rocket man had thought—under the coating of fat was solid muscle. Grunting, Blayne forced himself upward and hurled Elliot away from him.
Livid hate sparkled in Blayne's eyes, and Elliot knew that his own face was an angry mask. This was going to be a battle to the death, here on the banks of this sluggish Venusian river.
The two men circled warily around each other. Blayne swung out one apelike arm in a tentative offensive gesture, and Elliot danced backward.
"You know what'll happen," Blayne shouted. "You'll rot on Venus for the rest of your life if I don't get back!"
"I'll take that chance, Blayne. I can't let you kill that bird."
He put his head down and bulled into Blayne's midsection, ignoring the rain of blows that descended on his neck and shoulders. He forced Blayne back toward the water's edge, only to have to let go when the other's fingers clawed into his throat. He pulled away, and Blayne's fingers left bright red streaks on Elliot's flesh. Blood mingled with sweat. A cloud of Venusian gnats descended on them, humming gently around their heads.
Blayne's fist smashed into Elliot's stomach, but the pilot shook off the blow and landed one in the bowl of lard that cushioned the other's intestines. Blayne coughed and stepped backward.
Elliot leaped for him and wrapped his arms around Blayne, barely managing to encircle the fat man's body. Then, slowly, he lifted the struggling Blayne from the ground.
"Here ... we ... go...." he said, as he heaved the Commissioner's bulk upward. He got Blayne as far off the ground as he could, and started to dash him to the ground again, when the other broke Elliot's grasp.