Eat quickly

In the morning Jason awoke with a bad headache and the feeling he had never been to sleep. As he took some of the carefully portioned stimulants that Brucco had given him, he wondered again about the combination of factors that filled his sleep with such horror. "Eat quickly," Brucco told him when they met in the dining room. "I can no longer spare you time for individual instruction.
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You will join the regular classes and take the prescribed courses.
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Only come to me if there is some special problem that the instructors or trainers can't handle." The classes--as Jason should have expected--were composed of stern-faced little children. With their compact bodies and no-nonsense mannerisms they were recognizably Pyrran. But they were still children enough to consider it very funny to have an adult in their classes. Jammed behind one of the tiny desks, the red-faced Jason did not think it was much of a joke. All resemblance to a normal school ended with the physical form of the classroom. For one thing, every child--no matter how small--packed a gun. And the courses were all involved with survival. The only possible grade in a curriculum like this was one hundred per cent and students stayed with a lesson until they mastered it perfectly.