ain of a man, with an apparently inexhaustible store
of energy. That was really all that counted now. There could be
little art in this last and final round of fencing. Just thrust and
parry, and victory to the stronger.

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