Begay swung up the side of the vehicle, scrambling like a rock ape across molded grips and convenient protrusions. Sam followed more slowly, the weight of his pack shifting his center of balance enough that he was cautious of some of the handholds Begay used. By the time he reached the top deck, Begay was vanishing down the hatch into the panzer. Sam tossed his pack through and followed, snagging his holster on the hatch coaming. He had to pull himself back up to free it. The holster and the Narcoject Lethe pistol it held were a parting gift from Dodger. The Elf had wanted him to take something more lethal, but Sam resisted. Having a gun at his hip was strange enough. That the weapon was his own was even stranger. Inside the panzer, Begay showed him how to strap into the gunner’s couch and started a simulation program that would let Sam get the feel of the controls. Shooting the computer targets was easy. Just like a game.