His knuckles bulged until the skin over them whitened in the fury of his concentration. Gasping, he saw the shimmer fade. He cast a beam of radio-waves; saw them strike a beam of like power and shatter, useless. He hurled acid. It met an alkali. He threw a bullet and watched it melt in a shield of heat that turned the lead to smoke. All the while the Zarathzan taunted him, shrilling, "Ape. Go back to the steamy jungles of your planet, ape. We do not need a loose-brain here. Go back, ape!" A red triangle formed in the air before Morka Kar even as he spoke. It glowed and burned with green hell-fires. Jonathan dropped water on it and the green fires raged and grew and expanded, feeding on the water. Jonathan shuddered when he finally extinguished them. Beads of cold sweat rose on his forehead. He was growing weaker. His brain could not stand this punishment. He had been subjecting it to too much. It would give, soon. It was not conditioned, as was the Zarathzan's. He thought fleetingly of last night, with Adatha Za's mouth burning beneath his. Never to know that mouth again! She had trusted in his strength, in his boasts. She had told him of her villa above the sea. Now he was to fail her. He had bragged of a mickey finn. Of brass knuckles. What a crude jest. He had even mentioned-- Jonathan sat upright. He thought. When Morka Kar saw the club in his hands, he hooted. "A club! The ape has found a club with which to kill. Lallista! He jests." Jonathan swung the wood in his hands with easy familiarity. He lifted it above his shoulders, then brought it about viciously. There was a sudden _splat_. Morka Kar, still laughing his derision, crumpled and toppled from the ebony seat. Jonathan discovered his knees shaking. He sat down quickly. Adatha Za came running, sobbing, laughter. "You beat him. You beat him. What a strange weapon. What was it? Morka Kar thought it but a club. He did not deign to spend his mental forces on it. But you fooled him!" Jonathan held up the wood and shook it, laughing, "This is known in America as a baseball bat. A Louisville slugger. The old hickory, the ash. And the thing that hit Morka Kar was a baseball. Gods! A jest, he called it." Shar Bytu looked from Morka Kar to Jonathan, saying, "You must destroy him. It is the great rule of mental monomachy." But Jonathan shook his head, wearily. Shar Bytu looked down at the Zarathzan. He almost seemed to relish what he did. But it was over in an instant. A few grains of dust settled groundwards. Jonathan felt sick. The others gathered around him. Their voices were excited. "A new weapon to fight the flames." "The Earthling has solved our problem." "If it baffled a monomachy fighter like Morka Kar, it might work on the flames." Jonathan tried to explain, looking down at their faces.