"Harrison, Harry - Bill, the Galactic Hero 4 - on the Planet of Tasteless Pleasures" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

My full name is Irma Feritayl, and I'm from a planet called Fey in the Softscience system in the Half-Baked Sector of the Galaxy.
When I was a little girl, I had lots of kittens. Pretty little balls of fur, oh! such soft and cuddly creatures. I loved cats and kittens so much that the servants called me Kitten, and that's still my nickname if you want to call me that. Anyway, I had a kitten called Moonbeam and a kitten called Dusty and a kitten called Snowflake. They were such funny things, and they loved to play with yarn and scamper about. Oh, we had such fun! Did I tell you about my kitten called Mr. Furball? He had these strange gray spots all over his rear end. Anyway, these kittens when they became cats weren't psychic or anything, but I wish they had been, just like in the Snortin' Andy books I used to read. You know about those, don't you? Like GALACTIC PETS. And my favorite, BITCH WORLD. No? Oh, they're sooooo good.... All the heroes and heroines are psychic and they can talk to animals! Oh, and did I tell you about the kitten I had called Sir Troublemaker. Well, when he became a cat...

Bill interrupted at this point and suggested that Irma get past the bit about the kittens and get to the point. Any point that wouldn't send him screaming out of his mind like this dreadful cat crap.

Oh, sure. So, did I mention I was a Princess? Yes, my father was King Hans Pagan Feritayl. What a wonderful father! He was the one who gave me all the kittens. And we had a family counselor named Merfud. It was Merfud who divined that I was a Special! I don't know if you know what Specials are, but some people call them Talents and some call them Espers, and some planets just call them Nerds. Anyway, Merfud figured that my Specialness was that I could psychically speak to Unicorns! Unfortunately, as there were no Unicorns on Fey, I didn't get to use my specialness very much. But still I knew I was not only a Special, but a Special Princess!
But now the story gets sad. I was kidnapped by the evil Queen Snowjob in the country of Great Big Frosty Mountains when I was just a teenager. Worse, she spread a genetic curse on my father's land of juvenile. Communicable Zits! Whew, was I glad I wasn't there! Did I tell you I had a boyfriend? Well, I did. His name was Joe. Joe and I both liked cats, which is why we got along so well. And also, Joe was a Special, too. Joe could talk to slugs. Unfortunately, that didn't help him much in his quest to rescue me. He didn't make it too far, either, before he died of Terminal Acne. Or that's what the evil Queen Snowjob told me, anyway. I found out pretty soon what Snowjob wanted from me. She wanted to rule the whole planet of Fey, change the orbit around the sun, and turn it into a galactic ski resort. She'd made a deal with the Chingers to get a Special Cosmic Unicorn shipped in to Fey - and she needed me to communicate with it!
Well, when I found out about this, I knew that I could never be a party to this evil plot. Daddy hated tourists! So I had to find a way out. And I did just that! I explored the lower regions of caverns and found a sewer grate. I opened it and with a lantern I navigated my way down deep into the sewer system.
I had been wandering a very long time, when I saw a light ahead! It was an opening! So I walked out....
And I found myself here.
When I looked around, though, the hole had closed up.
And so, here I've been stuck for what seems like forever.
The End

The beautiful princess called Irma sighed and put her head into her hands.
Bill rubbed her back sympathetically. Such a sad story. It was also the most incredible load of lachrymose bowb that he had ever heard. Only he didn't dare tell her that since he still had plans to get into her knickers. "You know, maybe a little sex would cheer you up!" he said brightly.
"Oh, Bill. Let us just forget awhile the crude lusts of the flesh! I think you are one of the most majestic creatures I have ever seen. May we simply commune from soul to soul?"
"Soul to soul? Isn't that a Galactic Motown record by Outta Sight and the Pimps?" Bill said.
"No, silly! It's a form of Romantic Psychic Telepathy, just like in BLAZING ROMANTIC SCIENCE COMIX!"
And when she flashed her baby blues at him, Bill simply turned to silly putty in her hands. Having drunk the entire goblet of wine may have had something to do with this malleable state, but actually Bill was in fact as smitten as his tough Trooper training would allow.
And so, for a time, the sweet object of his affection communed with Bill's soul on a spiritual plane, which did absolutely but nothing for him. And it really had been a long day. Clutching her warm hand in his he drowsed off and communed with some heavy zzzzzzzz's.

CHAPTER 5

THE RAPE OF IRMA

Lightning, across a bloodshot landscape.
Thunder, banging out like a brobdingnagian belch accompanied by the wail of a thousand petulant pussies.
Bill woke up - vaguely - to spaghetti.
Color-coded spaghetti, wound into a coil, snaking away into machines, chugging and clicking, needles needling, dials dialing.
A squeaky voice: "Partial consciousness, Unit Alpha V!"
Another voice, chalk on a blackboard: "Dampen! Dampen!"
"Endorphins at optimum level already. Unit resisting unconsciousness. Awareness level reaching drugged but dangerous level."
Bill groaned. Where the hell was he? He saw stretches of stainless steel stained by little green amorphous blobs.
Focus! He had to focus. Where the hell was his Trooper discipline?
"Well then, slug him again, you idiot!"
A mass of resonant density fell directly upon Bill's noggin, and once more this particular Starship Trooper saw the stars.

When Bill awoke the next time again, he found his head in the sweetly scented lap of his beloved Irma. She was stroking his hair and gently rambling on about the delights of pussies.
"...and then there was Featherhead! Oh, that cat just adored his catnip! Of course, we had to get him declawed after he scratched that poor serf's eyes out, but oh well!"
Bill scrunched around and was rewarded with a magnificent upshot view of Irma's magnificently impressive breasts expanding above him, blocking out the view completely. Which was all right with him.
What a Heaven!
What Paradise!
What an incredible existence! Who cared where the hell he was! Bill immediately decided that wherever he was it was lightyears better than anywhere the Troopers could send him.
With satiated pleasure the lovebirds talked and sipped the dear wine for a brief eternity beneath an Aegean sun, not too far at all from the wine-dark sea, and just down the hill from Mt. Olympus, while sprites and songsters, dancers and satyrs played with Maypoles and whiled away the day with more of this kind of bucolic, fresh air Bacchanalian stuff.
Bill could not remember when he had been happier. Though to be precise Bill could not remember ever being happy, but it does not pay to split hairs: for a gentle two or three hours the sun shone, orgone surged through Bill's body and his sperm-filled eyeballs swelled mightily under the pressure. He was relaxed and content, caught up in the fanciful spell woven by the climate, the wine, and the concupiscent creature prattling incontinently on beside him.
Little did this happy-for-an-instant Trooper realize that this happiness would be oh, so brief.
Irma had suggested a walk.
She was an enchanting creature, the stuff of pure dreams. Bill had never encountered a woman like her before. To Bill, women were not mysterious beings; mystery implies intellectual thought, and all Bill's thoughts on the subject were unambiguously coitus connected. Except for his mother, of course. Bill's memories of her were pretty vague and he was sure that she had been kind and gentle; but he couldn't really remember. Which meant that memories of an earlier, possibly gentler existence had been entirely driven out by sadistic Trooper training and his loathsome experiences in the wars. Still, Bill had a soft spot in his heart for Mom; somehow he'd eluded the usual Trooper heart surgery on the subject.