"My father says that killing at a distance isn't much good, because you never get into close contact. And if you can't see what happens when you actually kill somebody, you can't get conditioned very well. You'd get bored just sitting around with a gun. And even in the short time of a week--" "Is that how long it lasts?" "Usually about that. But even then with guns, you'd get used to it. With swords it's different. You don't get used to that in a week. You still feel pretty shaky when it's all over, believe me...." "Were you scared, Jon?" "You shouldn't be scared," he said. "All you have to remember is what they keep telling you--the others will kill you if you don't kill them. Always remember that. Then it gets to be sort of a--well, like a game, to see who's strongest, who can use a sword the best...." "Yeah," Mike said. "Wait'll I get that guy!" His fingers brushed lightly against the half-healed wound again. Jon laughed. "Sore at somebody already?" "I'll cut his ears off!" "You're getting the idea all right! Just be sure you don't go breaking any more rules--you can't kill anybody until the games begin, you know." "I'll show him!" Mike said. "How long do we have yet to practice? Now, I mean?" "Half an hour, maybe. I'll see you later. I'll forget about reporting you this time--but don't go for any more walks!" He left them, and they walked into the recreation area with the others. Mike found the boy who had laughed. And he found that it was as Jon had said. There wasn't any reason to feel afraid. The sword wasn't as heavy in his hands as it had been at first, and it was more thrilling to use than just fists.... The other boy was grinning, and it was easy to get mad enough to want to cut his head off. Both hands on the long haft of his weapon, Mike swung harder, more surely than the first times he handled the sword. He could parry, now--and cut. Like _that_! The boy staggered back. The side of his head was bleeding profusely, and the blood spurted through his fingers as he pressed them to the gaping place where his ear had been. "Rules! Rules!" Mike lowered his sword. That was right, the rules. He couldn't kill now.... So he tried to laugh. At first he had to force the sound from his throat, but suddenly he found it coming easily, clear, and loud. The boy left the field toward the medical tents. And Mike found another with whom to practice. It was what Jon had said, a great game--a great, crashing adventure! He swung the sword and wondered if the dream would ever have to end. CHAPTER X