Jim turned to Var. 'How is it that you are not bonded, since he trained you himself and trusts you with this secret?'
Var did not answer immediately. He had not realized it before, but it was true he was not bonded. He was not a member of the Nameless One's empire or any of its subject tribes, for he had never been defeated in the circle. His only battle had been the formal achievement of his manhood. Ordinarily a warrior joined a tribe of his choosing by ritually challenging its chief. When he lost-as was inevitable, for no novice could match a chief-he was according to nomad convention bonded, subject to the will of that leader, or the leader's leader. If he fought a man from another tribe and lost, his allegiance changed; if he won, the other man joined his own tribe. Once Var had taken name and bracelet, he had become a free agent- until such time as he lost that freedom in the circle.
Why had the Weaponless never made arrangement for Var? And how had Jim known about this omission?
'He was scrupulous about saying 'if you please' to you,' Jim said. 'That meant he could not order you.'
'I don't know why,' Var said. Then, seeing the perplexity on the man's face, he repeated it more carefully, forcing his tongue to get it right. 'Don't-know.'
'Well, it's none of my business,' Jim said easily, affecting not to notice Var's clumsiness with the language. 'I won't bother with the formality of address; if I tell you to do something, it's not an order, only advice. OK?'
'OK,' Var said, able to pronounce these syllables well enough.
'And I'll have to tell you a lot, because guns are dangerous. They can kill just as readily as a sword can, and do it from a distance. You saw the jug.'
Var had seen the jug. What could shatter it at fifty feetshould be able to hurt a man at the same distance.
Jim put his hand on the metal at his hip. 'Here-first lesson. This is a pistol a small handgun. One of the hundreds we found stored in boxes in a badlands building, We had to use the click-boxes to chart a route in; I don't know how the boss knew about it. I've been running this camp for the past three years, training the men he sends... but that's beside the point.' He. did something and the metal opened. 'It's hollow, see. This is the barrel and this is a bullet. You put the bullet in here, close it up, and when you press this trigger-blam! The bullet explodes, and part of it shoots out here, very fast. It's like a thrown dagger. Watch.'
He set up a piece of wood, pointed the hollow end of the pistol at it and shoved his forefinger against the spike he called the trigger. 'Noise,' he warned, and there was a burst of sound. Smoke shot out of the gun and the wood jumped.
Jim broke open the weapon, that now seemed to be hot, and showed Var the interior. 'See-bullet's gone. And if you'll look at the target-that piece of wood-you'll see where it hit.' He offered the weapon to Var 'Now you try it'
Var accepted the gun, and after some struggle got a bullet in. But his hand would not fit around the base properly, and his finger was too thick and warped to maneuver the trigger. Jim, perceiving the difficulty as quickly as Var did, quickly produced a larger gun. This one he managed to fire.
The shock traveled up his arm, but it was slight compared to the tap of a stick in the circle. His bullet plowed into the ground. 'We'll show you how - to aim,' Jim said. 'Remember, the gun is a weapon, but unlike the instruments you are familiar with, it can kill- by accident. Treat it as you would a sword in motion. With respect.'
Var learned a great deal in the following days. He had thought there was little more to discover, after Sola had shown him the marvelous social intricacies of generating life. Now he wondered that anything at all remained, as Jim showed him the devastating unsocial devices for terminating life.
The Master came for him. 'Now you know part of my secret,' he said. 'And I will tell you another part. This is an invasion force-and we shall invade the mountain.'
'The mountain!'
'The mountain of death, yes. It is not what you have supposed-what all nomads suppose. Not every man who goes there dies. There are people- living beneath it-similar to the crazies, but with guns. They hold hostages-' But here he changed his mind. 'We must storm that mountain and drive out these men. Only then will the empire be secure.'
'I don't understand.' Actually, it was a questioning grunt.
'I have held the empire in check for six years, because I feared the power of the underworld. Now I am ready to move against it. I do not say that these are evil men, but they must be displaced.
