"And you?"

"Freaks and distortions don't interest me. The mannek was developed from a basic human sperm with additions to form a near invulnerable form of life which-"

"Proved a failure."

"-could….What did you say?"

"The thing is a failure." Dumarest elaborated as he sipped at his wine. "You made another mistake, Charisse. The multiplication of attributes does not result in added efficiency."

He had touched her as he'd intended and he watched her react to the slight on her ability; the clenching of her hands, the tension of her jaw, the bunching of small facial muscles which, somehow, made her look old. The moment passed as she shielded her face behind her goblet, throat working as she drank wine.

"The horns," he explained as she lowered the near empty container. "The claws. The feet, the jaws. Some animals have a double attack system-a cat, for example, with its claws and teeth. Some use head and feet, like a bird with its beak and talons. A bull has its horns."

"So?"

"Those systems have been designed by trial and error over thousands of years. Add them and you show flaws. To use the horns the mannek has to stoop. Once it does that it loses a degree of vision. To kick and gore at the same time is to diversify effort. To rend with the claws is to ignore the horns. To-need I go on?"

She said bluntly, "Could you have killed it?"

"No."

"Not even if you'd had your full strength? If you hadn't been hurt at the outset?" She added, "Using your knife, naturally."

He said, "You know the answer to that. The natural defenses are too high. To stab and slash takes time and the wounds would be relatively minor."

"But if your life depended on it?"

He would do his best but too much could happen; a slip, the flick of blood into his eyes, sweat easing his grip, the rake of a claw, the shift of the wind, the glare of reflected sunlight. Never could he be certain of winning. No man could ever be that.