"Harry Harrison - Bill 2 - On The Planet Of Robot Slaves" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

her suitcase. It was always best to keep on the good side of the noncoms.
Especially female noncoms. Though, really, he didn't think she was his type.
He liked big girls, but not those a head taller than him. And her biceps, he
pouted with inferiority, were really much bigger than his. "Bill," a
familiar and loathed voice called out. "Stop fraternizing and claw your way up
here." Bill joined Admiral Pratkis on the summit of the sand dune, looking
out at the golden majesty of the setting sun. Which was really the only thing
worth looking at since other than the sun, and the empty sky with one small
cloud that vanished while they watched, there wasn't anything else. "Sand,
and an awful lot of it," Pratkis said with an expression of deep gloom.36
"That's what deserts are like, sir," Bill said brightly. Pratkis turned a
withering glare and scornful sneer upon him. "When I want that kind of
bright Pollyanna bowb I will ask for it. Do you realize the kind of hole that
we are in? There is myself and there is you, which is not saying very much.
And what else? That dim recruit who was probably a dim civilian yesterday, the
captain who is already stoned out of his mind, an electronic technician with
no electronics-and that overweight oversexed crewmember who is going to cause
trouble, bet on that. We got some food, some water-and little else. I have the
intensely gloomy sensation that we are for the chopping block." "I have a
suggestion, sir?" "You do? Great! Speak quickly." "Since you are in
command and there is a war on-I want a battlefield commission." "You want
what?" "A commission as a third lieutenant. I am an experienced trooper
with plenty of service-related know-how-in addition to which I am the only one
here with these qualifications. You will need my combat-hardened skills and
professional knowledge. . ." "Which I will not get unless you have some
rank. All right bowb, not that it makes any difference. Kneel Recruit Bill.
Rise Third Lieutenant Bill." "Oh, thank you, sir. That makes all the
difference," Bill simpered. Pratkis curled his lip with disgust while Bill dug
the tarnished golden pips of a third lieutenant from his pocket and proudly
pinned them to his epaulets. "It is said that every real soldier with guts
or talent, or both, marches with a marshal's baton in his pack. My goal is
simpler..."37 "Shut up. Take your mind off of your pathetic military
ambitions and apply whatever intelligence you have, the existence of which I
am growing doubtful about, to the problem at hand. What do we do?" His
ambition fired by his newfound rank, Bill hurled himself in to the role with
enthusiasm. "Sir! We will begin by taking inventory of our supplies, which
will be guarded at all times and rationed equally among all. When this has
been done we will prepare sleeping accommodations for the night, since, as you
can see, the sun is setting. Then I will draw up a guard's roster for the
night, have a shortarm inspection, prepare battle plans. . ." "Stop!"
Pratkis called out hoarsely, eyes bulging at the military monster that he had
created. "Let's just get our heads together and simply figure out what we have
to do next, Lieutenant. Just that much, or it is instantly back to recruit
rank with you." Bill accepted the decision with all the bad grace he could
muster up, kicking his clawed heel into the sand and scowling darkly. His
military career in command had been brief. He trailed after Pratkis as they
went back down the dune to join the others. "Give me your attention,"
Pratkis called out. "All of you that is except Captain Bly who has stoned
himself unconscious on that cheap drek he smokes. You, trooper, what's your
name?" "Witcher, your highness." "Yes, Wurber, great to have you