"Harry Harrison - Planet Of The Damned (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

Brion closed his eyes again and knew the moment he had been hoping to avoid
had arrived.

Every man who entered the Twenties had his own training tricks. Brion had a
few individual ones that had helped him so far. He was a moderately strong
chess player, but he had moved to quick victory in the chess rounds by playing
incredibly unorthodox games. This was no accident, but the result of years of
work. He had a standing order with off-planet agents for archaic chess books,
the older the better. He had memorized thousands of these ancient games and
openings. This was allowed. Anything was allowed that didn't involve drugs or
machines. Self-hypnosis was an accepted tool.

It had taken Brion over two years to find a way to tap the sources of
hysterical strength. Common as the phenomenon seemed to be in the textbooks,
it proved impossible to duplicate. There appeared to be an immediate
association with the death-trauma, as if

the two were inextricably linked into one. Berserkers and juramentados
continue to fight and kill though carved by scores of mortal wounds. Men with
bullets in the heart or brain fight on, though already clinically dead. Death
seemed an inescapable part of this kind of strength. But there was another
type that could easily be brought about in any deep trance-hypnotic rigidity.
The strength that enables someone in a trance to hold his body stiff and
unsupported except at two points, the head and heels. This is physically
impossible when conscious. Working with this as a clue, Brion had developed a
self-hypnotic technique that allowed him to tap this reservoir of unknown
strength--the source of "second wind," the survival strength that made the
difference between life and death.

It could also kill--exhaust the body beyond hope of recovery, particularly
when in a weakened condition as his was now. But that wasn't important. Others
had died before during the Twenties, and death during the last round was in
some ways easier than defeat.

Breathing deeply, Brion softly spoke the auto-hypnotic phrases that triggered
the process. Fatigue fell softly from him, as did all sensations of heat, cold
and pain. He could feel with acute sensitivity, hear, and see clearly when he
opened his eyes.

With each passing second the power drew at the basic reserves of Me, draining
it from his body.

When the buzzer sounded he pulled his foil from his second's startled grasp,
and ran forward. Irolg had barely time to grab up his own weapon and parry
Brion's first thrust. The force of his rush was so great that the guards on
their weapons locked, and their bodies crashed together. Irolg looked amazed
at the sudden fury of the attack--then smiled. He thought it was a last burst
of energy, he knew how close they both were to exhaustion. This must be the
end for Brion.