"Harry Harrison & Robert Sheckley - Bill the Galactic Hero 3 " - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

you've all been waiting for тАФ the unveiling of Bill's new foot now growing from an implanted foot bud.
Only ten bucks a ticket to see this unique and possibly revolting event."
The barracks where the unveiling was to be held was filling up fast. Most of the enlisted men in Camp
Diplatory wanted to attend the unveiling of Bill's new foot bud. The foot bud had been implanted in Bill's
stump three days previously, on the medical satellite BRIP 32 situated at Point Less. After implantation,
Bill had been shipped to Diplatory, the large military establishment on the planet Shyster. He had to wait
three days before he could unveil his transplant. Time-controlled bandages ensured that he would follow
medical orders. There had been difficulties with time-controlled bandages, but luckily Bill didn't have
any. At least as far as he knew.
There wasn't much to do for the fifty thousand Space Troopers stationed in Camp Diplatory. The camp
was set on a hundred semi-submerged acres in the middle of Unholy Bog, the largest and wettest swamp
on the planet Shyster. Why the camp had been built in the middle of a bog was a mystery. Or maybe it
wasn't. Some said it was an accident, probably made in Central Headquarters back on Helior. Others said
that the location had been picked deliberately because tough conditions produce strong men, if they don't
kill them. Or maim them. Or drive them mad.
"And if they do, there are more where those came from."
That is the motto of the Fighting 69th Deep Space Screaming Killers, the unit to which Bill was presently
attached.
"So take off the bandage," Kanarsie said. "Let's get a look."
Bill looked around. The barracks was full. At ten bucks a head, which Brownnose was collecting at the
door for him, Bill figured he'd made enough to buy himself some new combat boots. The rate at which he
accumulated foot operations made this necessary, since the military wouldn't reimburse him for
constantly having to turn in shoeware that wasn't even worn, or just didn't fit the present disgusting shape
of Bill's wounded foot.
Brownnose waved enthusiastically that he could begin. He was enthusiastic about everything, kind,
reverent and obedient. And wanted to help his buddies all the time. Which is not the troopers' way and
that is why they hated him. And called him Brownnose. Bill liked him because he reminded Bill of Eager
Beager who had acted the same way. But of course he had been a Chinger spy. And a robot too.
"Here goes," Bill said and grabbed the bandage. An alarm sounded and an electric shock stung his
fingers. "Ouch. Not quite time yet." The bandage buzzed hoarsely and the end dropped free. "Time now,"
he said and unwound one turn of the bandages and the spectators all leaned forward. They emitted a
collective sigh as Bill unwound the second layer. Their faces got all flushed and nervous, and their breath
came in short pants, exceedingly uncomfortable, and some could be seen nervously wringing their hands
as Bill threw off the third layer of bandage. Bill's foot wasn't exactly big box office, but in a boring,
despicable, uncomfortable dump like this even a cockroach fight was an event the stature of naked ladies
wrestling in jello.
Excitement, or whatever it was, reached a fever pitch as the eighty or so burly and scarred military men
of low rank and lower IQ crowded into the smoke-filled plastic Quonset hut and leaned forward blinking,
as Bill threw off the fourth and final fold of bandage.
You'd think, of course, that Bill would be the one to have the first glimpse of his new foot, since it was
his, after all. You would be mistaken, however, for Bill superstitiously looked elsewhere as he cast the
bandage away. He had been having some strange feelings in that foot over the last day.


file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Har...0-%20The%20Planet%20of%20Bottled%20Brains.htm (2 of 122) [10/16/2004 2:56:55 PM]
 Bill, the Galactic Hero on the Planet of Bottled Brains

He looked at the watching faces around him, their eyes glued on his foot.
The crowd made a sort of tittering sound. That was odd, not at all what Bill had expected. And then they
started laughing. Not polite, appreciative laughter, such as you might expect at the unveiling of a foot