he
straightened up he glimpsed something under a broad-leafed plant. A
crouching, scale-covered animal, whose tapered head terminated in a long
spike.

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

"Horndevil," the impersonal voice said from midair. "Clothing and shoes
no protection. Kill it."

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

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

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

Such singleness of purpose seemed completely unnatural. Why was this
planet 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 when
touched didn't elicit deadly advice. This was a chunk of rock that
projected from a meadow of poison grass. Jason sat on it with a friendly
feeling and pulled his feet up. An oasis of peace. Some minutes passed
while he rested his gravity-weary body.

"ROTFUNGUS--DO NOT TOUCH!"

The voice blasted at twice its normal volume and Jason leaped as if he
had been shot. The gun was in his hand, nosing about for a target. Only
when he bent over and looked closely at the rock where he had been
sitting, did he understand. There were flaky gray patches that hadn't
been there when he sat down.

"Oh you tricky devils!" he shouted at the machine. "How many kids have
you frightened off that rock after they thought they had found a little
peace!" He resented the snide bit of conditioning, but respected it at
the same time. Pyrrans lear