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that the next time it happened he wanted to be there. It wasn't quite as good,
hearing about it secondhand.
Bill pumped his bodyguards and pals for all the details of the previous
night's festivities while they hoisted him out of bed, into the sonic shower,
and on through the whole morning routine that ended when they stuffed him into
their hoverlimo. They earned their money, too, because not only was Bill
utterly incapable of normal functioning this morning, so they even had to fork
his food into his gaping mouth and brush his teeth for him, but they also had
to make up the whole story.
They did such a wonderful job of inventing the story, in fact, that Bill had
them tell it over and over again, in more and more detail. It kept getting
better and better, until he could almost believe he remembered it himself. It
was almost as good as if it had really happened.
It also kept Bill from noticing where they were going. Which was, among other
things, outside.
He couldn't have seen much if he was looking, because the windows of the limo
were tinted almost totally black, and what feeble bits of consciousness he
possessed were far too devoted to learning about his exploits to care what
they were passing.
Sam, on the other hand, had gotten totally bored with the story. He turned on
the small holovideo set, hooked up an ear plug, and tuned in ENN. Bill paid no
attention until he saw the little image of General
Weissearse floating next to him.
"What's he got to say?"
"The same old crapola. The glorious forces of your glorious empire are
fighting the glorious battle, gloriously. Bombing only military targets, no
civilian casualties, no accidents, no imperial ships shot down. You want to
hear it?"
Sam reached to switch the sound on, but Bill stopped him. "No, I've heard it
before. In person, too. Wait
 he means no more imperial ships shot down, right? Has he said anything about
me?"
Page 52
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"No, of course not. If he admitted you exist, then he'd have to admit that we
shot down your ship, and that would be admitting failure. So it didn't
happen."
Bill brightened considerably at this news. "Does that mean I'm not a Trooper
any more? I mean, if I
don't exist, I can't be a Trooper. Is that like a discharge?" Since no one was
ever discharged from the
Troopers, Bill was unfamiliar with the procedure.
"Gee, Bill, I doubt it."
"And why do you guys keep saying 'gee'? I used to know someone else who said
that all the time, and he was a Chinger spy."
Sid laughed. "Gee, Bill, since I'm not a seven-foot-tall green lizard, I don't
think I could be a Chinger.
Anyway, we must have picked it up from President Grotsky. He uses it a lot,
and we spend most of the time guarding him."
"I guess that could be it," Bill muttered, only half convinced. "What's that?"
The floating image of General Weissearse had been replaced by a picture of an
Eyerackian airfield, shot from very high up. The camera was zooming toward the
airfield at an incredible speed.
Sam pulled out the ear plug jack and the sound came back on.
"This bit of film was selected entirely at random, and has not been edited or
altered in any way," the
General was saying. "As you can see, the camera is in the nose of one of our
newest types of missiles, the Peacemaker Mark XXXVII. It has a computer that
has been programmed to emulate the mind of a highly trained Trooper, with all
the latest artificial stupidity techniques.
"Now, you see that red dot that just appeared in the middle of your picture?
That marks the firing
file:///K|/eMule/Incoming/Nieuwe%20map/Harry%20Har...207%20-%20The%20Final%20I
ncoherent%20Adventure.htm (50 of 105)24-12-2006 1:57:24
Bill, the Galactic Hero  The Final Incoherent Adventure mechanism for an ASS
battery. If we just blow up the firing mechanism, the missiles don't blow up
and hardly anyone is killed; only the man at the trigger, if he doesn't get
clear in time."
The picture looked pretty familiar to Bill. Except for all the strangely flat
spaces around the airfield, which looked like they had been drawn in with a
crayon, it was just like the view from his turret on the
Heavenly Peace
. Bill waited for the little "50," the score for an ASS battery, to come up,
but it didn't.
"You can see how the red dot stays right in the middle of the picture,"
General Weissearse continued.
"There is no deviation from plan, no possibility of error.
"If you'll look closely at the end here, and we'll slow down the tape to make
it easier, you can see that the ASS ground crew can see and hear the
Peacemaker Mark XXXVII coming, and they have plenty of time to get clear of
the blast."
The picture did slow down, and the missile curved in and aimed for a door. A
crudely hand-lettered sign on the door read "Eyerackian Space Defense Command:
Legitimate Military Target." There was a red and white bull's-eye below the
sign.
Then the door flew open, and three men dashed out, loping like moon-walkers in
the slow motion. There was an extreme close-up of the sign, and the tape was
finished. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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