Deathworld

  VII.

  In the morning Jason awoke with a bad headache and the feeling he hadnever been to sleep. As he took some of the carefully portionedstimulants that Brucco had given him, he wondered again about thecombination of factors that filled his sleep with such horror.

  "Eat quickly," Brucco told him when they met in the dining room. "I canno longer spare you time for individual instruction. You will join theregular classes and take the prescribed courses. Only come to me ifthere is some special problem that the instructors or trainers can'thandle."

  The classes--as Jason should have expected--were composed of stern-facedlittle children. With their compact bodies and no-nonsense mannerismsthey were recognizably Pyrran. But they were still children enough toconsider it very funny to have an adult in their classes. Jammed behindone of the tiny desks, the red-faced Jason did not think it was much ofa joke.

  All resemblance to a normal school ended with the physical form of theclassroom. For one thing, every child--no matter how small--packed agun. And the courses were all involved with survival. The only possiblegrade in a curriculum like this was one hundred per cent and studentsstayed with a lesson until they mastered it perfectly. No courses wereoffered in the normal scholastic subjects. Presumably these were studiedafter the child graduated survival school and could face the worldalone. Which was a logical and cold-hearted way of looking at things. Infact, logical and cold-hearted could describe any Pyrran activity.

  Most of the morning was spent on the operation of one of the medikitsthat strapped around the waist. This was a poison analyzer that waspressed over a puncture wound. If any toxins were present, the antidotewas automatically injected on the site. Simple in operation butincredibly complex in construction. Since all Pyrrans serviced their ownequipment--you could then only blame yourself if it failed--they had tolearn the construction and repair of all the devices. Jason did muchbetter than the child students, though the effort exhausted him.

  In the afternoon he had his first experience with a training machine.His instructor was a twelve-year-old boy, whose cold voice didn'tconceal his contempt for the soft off-worlder.

  "All the training machines are physical duplicates of the real surfaceof the planet, corrected constantly as the life forms change. The onlydifference between them is the varying degree of deadliness. This firstmachine you will use is of course the one infants are put into--"

  "You're too kind," Jason murmured. "Your flattery overwhelms me." Theinstructor continued, taking no notice of the interruption.

  "... Infants are put into as soon as they can crawl. It is real insubstance, though completely deactivated."

  * * * * *

  Training machine was the wrong word, Jason realized as they enteredthrough the thick door. This was a chunk of the outside world duplicatedin an immense chamber. It took very little suspension of reality for himto forget the painted ceiling and artificial sun high above and imaginehimself outdoors at last. The scene _seemed_ peaceful enough. Thoughclouds banking on the horizon threatened a violent Pyrran storm.

  "You must wander around and examine things," the instructor told Jason."Whenever you touch something with your hand, you will be told about it.Like this--"

  The boy bent over and pushed his finger against a blade of the softgrass that covered the ground. Immediately a voice barked from hiddenspeakers.

  "Poison grass. Boots to be worn at all times."

  Jason kneeled and examined the grass. The blade was tipped with a hard,shiny hook. He realized with a start that every single blade of grasswas the same. The soft green lawn was a carpet of death. As hestraightened up he glimpsed something under a broad-leafed plant. Acrouching, scale-covered animal, whose tapered head terminated in a longspike.

  "What's _that_ in the bottom of my garden?" he asked. "You certainlygive the babies pleasant playmates." Jason turned and realized he wastalking to the air, the instructor was gone. He shrugged and petted thescaly monstrosity.

  "Horndevil," the impersonal voice said from midair. "Clothing and shoesno protection. Kill it."

  A sharp _crack_ shattered the silence as Jason's gun went off. Thehorndevil fell on its side, keyed to react to the blank charge.

  "Well ... I _am_ learning," Jason said, and the thought pleased him. Thewords _kill it_ had been used by Brucco while teaching him to use thegun. Their stimulus had reached an unconscious level. He was aware ofwanting to shoot only after he had heard the shot. His respect forPyrran training techniques went up.

  Jason spent a thoroughly unpleasant afternoon wandering in the child'sgarden of horror. Death was everywhere. While all the time thedisembodied voice gave him stern advice in simple language. So he coulddo unto, rather than being done in. He had never realized that violentdeath could come in so many repulsive forms. _Everything_ here wasdeadly to man--from the smallest insect to the largest plant.

  Such singleness of purpose seemed completely unnatural. Why was thisplanet so alien to human life? He made a mental note to ask Brucco.Meanwhile he tried to find one life form that wasn't out for his blood.He didn't succeed. After a long search he found the only thing that whentouched didn't elicit deadly advice. This was a chunk of rock thatprojected from a meadow of poison grass. Jason sat on it with a friendlyfeeling and pulled his feet up. An oasis of peace. Some minutes passedwhile he rested his gravity-weary body.

  "ROTFUNGUS--DO NOT TOUCH!"

  The voice blasted at twice its normal volume and Jason leaped as if hehad been shot. The gun was in his hand, nosing about for a target. Onlywhen he bent over and looked closely at the rock where he had beensitting, did he understand. There were flaky gray patches that hadn'tbeen there when he sat down.

  "Oh you tricky devils!" he shouted at the machine. "How many kids haveyou frightened off that rock after they thought they had found a littlepeace!" He resented the snide bit of conditioning, but respected it atthe same time. Pyrrans learned very early in life that there was nosafety on this planet--except that which they provided for themselves.

  While he was learning about Pyrrus he was gaining new insight into thePyrrans as well.