I managed to get up and twisted again to face Togaro. I got a blow in the face as we broke apart. But I gave one in return, then I hit him in the chest and ducked his swing. Blood from my forehead where his knuckles had cut was in my eyes. I dashed it away. I was more agile than Togaro with my fists; unskilled, yet I soon saw that I had more science than he. I gave him two blows for one, at the least. He staggered over and tripped on the cliffs of the shore. But I knew it was a ruse. He had tried to clinch with me, but I was avoiding him. He knew I had him at a disadvantage if I could keep him away. He half fell, but instead of following I stepped backward. Dianne was beside me. "Get back," she cried. She had found a rock on the ocean bottom. She heaved it, dripping, at Togaro as he rose. It caught his shoulder, but did not seem to hurt him. I gasped: "Dianne--back, for God's sake." She obeyed me and retreated. Togaro came at me again. There was an instant as I stood there, waiting with raised fists to receive him, that a horrible sense of dizziness swept me. I felt myself standing a mile or two in the air. I could see down the lower bay, the Narrows--and see the wrecked buildings of Manhattan. All far below me, as though I were poised in a plane--this whole familiar scene dwarfed into miniature by my altitude. Then my viewpoint changed. I was of normal size, standing here in a foot or two of water. This, at my feet, was a little green and brown model of New York harbor. Togaro was rushing me. He hit me in the body. As I went a step backward from the impact he tried to grip me. But I was too quick; and as he rushed he launched a swing which, had it caught my chin, would have finished me. I ducked it. He slewed around with the effort. Then I hit him in the forehead. He stood swaying, then fell. I was afraid to go near him. I stood away. He was up again in a moment. But there was a difference now. I was taller than he! My dose of the drug was still effective, but his had stopped! He knew it was the end; defeat. I was ready with a blow that would have finished him, and he knew it. The expression on his face held me transfixed for an instant. A stupid, bewildered surprise. But that faded. There came something else. A look of regret as he flung a glance down at the tiny landscape? Regret, as he saw Dianne crouching behind me? If it were that, it was instantly gone. His hand went to his mouth! A trick? But he leaped backward, flung up his arms with a gesture that stopped me again. He was staggering. He stood swaying, with one foot upon the few inches of the cliffs. The blood was draining from his face. He had taken poison--his last titanic gesture! He stood, and upon his livid, contorted face came a twisted leer of irony. "Dianne, you win." From his belt he plucked a small globe of metal. "You win--but your--damned Mitans--lose!"