A strong man can, of course, be dangerous, but he doesn’t approach the vicious deadliness of a weakling--with a weapon!
ncerning themselves with studies more likely to give them preferment or more immediate personal gain.
Of course, the wasteland wasn't entirely unknown, not to him, at least. He had viewed the area personally. There were hilltops on the Estates from which ordinary eyesight would penetrate far into the dead area, even though the more powerful and accurate parasight was stopped at its borders. Yes, he had seen the affected area.
He had noted that much of it had regained a measure of fertility. There was life now--some of it his own meat lizards who had wandered across the river and out of his control. And he had even seen some of the escaped pseudomen slinking through the scrub growth and making their crudely primitive camps.
"Savages!" he told himself. "Mere animals. And one can't do a thing about them, so long as they let that dead area persist."
Eventually, the scholars had reported, the dead areas would diminish and fade from existence. He smiled bitterly. Here was a nice evasion-
Novelette-sized story about the downfall of a psionic overlord. Don't expect any hard SF or a story, it's just lengthy fantasy.