bill_the_galactic_hero_v1.1-第3章

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could　get　pretty　close…〃
　　The　lights　went　out；　and；　as　though　using　his　name　had　summoned　him　like　a　devil　from　the　pit；　the　voice　of　Deathwish　blasted　through　the　barracks。　
　　〃Into　your　sacks！　Into　your　sacks！　Don't　you　lousy　bowbs　know　there's　a　war　on！〃
　　Bill　stumbled　away　through　the　darkness　of　the　barracks　where　the　only　illumination　was　the　red　glow　from　Deathwish's　eyes。　He　fell　asleep　the　instant　his　head　touched　his　carborundum　pillow；　and　it　seemed　that　only　a　moment　had　elapsed　before　reveille　sent　him　hurtling　from　his　bunk。　At　breakfast；　while　he　was　painfully　cutting　his　coffee…substitute　into　chunks　small　enough　to　swallow；　the　telenews　reported　heavy　fighting　in　the　Beta　Lyra　sector　with　mounting　losses。　A　groan　rippled　through　the　mess　hall　when　this　was　announced；　not　because　of　any　excess　of　patriotism　but　because　any　bad　news　would　only　make　things　worse　for　them。　They　did　not　know　how　this　would　be　arranged；　but　they　were　positive　it　would　be。　They　were　right。　Since　the　morning　was　a　bit　cooler　than　usual　the　Monday　parade　was　postponed　until　upon　when　the　ferro…concrete　drill　ground　would　have　warmed　up　nicely　and　there　would　be　the　maximum　number　of　heat…prostration　cases。　But　this　was　just　the　beginning。　From　where　Bill　stood　at　attention　near　the　rear　he　could　see　that　the　air…conditioned　canopy　was　up　on　the　reviewing　stand。　That　meant　brass。　The　trigger　guard　of　his　atomic　rifle　dug　a　hole　into　his　shoulder；　and　a　drop　of　sweat　collected；　then　dripped　from　the　tip　of　his　nose。　Out　of　the　ers　of　his　eyes　he　could　see　the　steady　ripple　of　motion　as　men　collapsed　here　and　there　among　the　massed　ranks　of　thousands　and　were　dragged　to　the　waiting　ambulances　by　alert　corpsmen。　Here　they　were　laid　in　the　shade　of　the　vehicles　until　they　revived　and　could　be　urged　back　to　their　positions　in　the　formation。　
　　Then　the　band；　burst　into　〃Spacemen　Ho　and　Chingers　Vanquished！〃　and　the　broadcast　signal　to　each　boot　heel　snapped　the　ranks　to　attention　at　the　same　instant；　and　the　thousands　of　rifles　flashed　in　the　sun。　The　manding　general's　staff　car…this　was　obvious　from　the　two　stars　painted　on　it…pulled　up　beside　the　reviewing　stand　and　a　tiny；　round　figure　moved　quickly　through　the　furnacelike　air　to　the　cornfort　of　the　enclosure。　Bill　had　never　seen　him　any　closer　than　this；　at　least　from　the　front；　though　once　while　he　was　returning　from　late　KP　he　had　spotted　the　general　getting　into　his　car　near　the　camp　theater。　Al　least　Bill　thought　it　was　he；　but　all　he　had　seen　was　a　brief　refit　view。　Therefore；　if　he　had　a　mental　picture　of　the　general；　it　was　of　a　large　backside　superimposed　on　a　teeny；　antlike　figure。　lie　thought　of　most　officers　in　these　general　terms；　since　the　men　of　course　had　nothing　to　do　with　officers　during　their　recruit　training。　Bill　had　had　a　good　glimpse　of　a　second　lieutenant　once；　near　the　orderly　room；　and　he　knew　he　had　a　face。　And　there　had　been　a　medical　officer　no　more　than　thirty　yards　away；　who　had　lectured　them　on　venereal　disease；　but　Bill　had　been　lucky　enough　to　sit　behind　a　post　and　had　promptly　fallen　asleep。
　　After　the　band　shut　up　the　anti…G　loudspeakers　floated　out　over　the　troops；　and　the　general　addressed　them。　He　had　nothing　to　say　that　anyone　cared　to　listen　to；　and　he　closed　with　the　announcement　that　because　of　losses　in　the　field　their　training　program　would　be　accelerated；　which　was　just　what　they　had　expected。　Then　the　band　played　some　more　and　they　marched　back　to　the　barracks；　changed　into　their　haircloth　fatigues；　and　marched…double　time　now…to　the　range；　where　they　fired　their　atomic　rifles　at　plastic　replicas　of　Chingers　that　popped　up　out　of　holes　in　the　ground。　Their　aim　was　bad　until　Deathwish　Drang　popped　out　of　a　hole　and　every　trooper　switched　to　full　automatic　and　hit　with　every　charge　fired　from　every　gun；　which　is　a　very　hard　thing　to　do。　Then　the　smoke　cleared；　and　they　stopped　cheering　and　started　sobbing　when　they　saw　that　it　was　only　a　plastic　replica　of　Deathwish；　now　torn　to　tiny　pieces；　and　the　original　appeared　behind　them　and　gnashed　its　tusks　and　gave　them　all　a　full　month's　KP。　。
　　〃The　human　body　is　a　wonderful　thing；〃　Bowb　Brown　said　a　month　later；　when　they　were　sitting　around　a　table　in　the　Lowest　Ranks　Klub　eating　plastic…　skinned　sausages　stuffed　with　road　sweepings　and　drinking　watery　warm　beer。　Bowb　Brown　was　a　throat…　herder　from　the　plains；　which　is　why　they　called　him　Bowb；　since　everyone　knows　just　what　thoatherders　do　with　their　thoats。　He　was　tall；　thin；　and　bowlegged；　his　skin　burnt　to　the　color　of　ancient　leather。　He　rarely　talked；　being　more　used　to　the　eternal　silence　of　the　plains　broken　only　by　the　eerie　cry　of　the　restless　thoat；　but　he　was　a　great　thinker；　since　the　one　thing　he　had　plenty　of　was　time　to　think　in。　He　could　worry　a　thought　for　days；　even　weeks；　before　he　mentioned　it　aloud；　and　while　he　was　thinking　about　it　nothing　could　disturb　him。　He　even　let　them　call　him　Bowb　without　protesting：　call　any　other　trooper　bow　b　and　he　would　hit　you　in　the　face。　Bill　and　Eager　and　the　other　troopers　from　X　squad　sitting　around　the　table　all　clapped　and　cheered；　as　they　always　did　when　Bowb　said　something。
　　〃Tell；　us　more；　Bowb！〃
　　〃It　can　still　talk…I　thought　it　was　dead！〃
　　〃Go　on…why　is　the　body　a　wonderful　thing？〃
　　They　waited　in　expectant　silence；　while　Bowb　managed　to　tear　a　bite　from　his　sausage　and；　after　ineffectual　chewing；　swallowed　it　with　an　effort　that　brought　tears　to　his　eyes。　He　eased　the　pain　with　a　mouthful　of　beer　and　spoke。
　　〃The　human　body　is　a　wonderful　thing；　because　if　it　doesn't　die　it　lives。〃
　　They　waited　for　more　until　they　realized　that　he　was　finished；　then　they　sneered。
　　〃Boy；　are　you　full　of　bowb！〃
　　〃Sign　up　for　OCS！〃
　　〃Yeah…but　what　does　it　mean？〃
　　Bill　knew　what　it　meant　but　didn't　tell　them。　There　were　only　half　as　many　men　in　the　squad　as　there　had　been　the　first　day。　One　man　had　been　transferred；　but　all　the　others　were　in　the　hospital；　or　in　the　mental　hospital；　or　discharged　for　the　convenience　of　tire　government　as　being　too　crippled　for　active　service。　Or　dead。　The　survivors；　after　losing　every　ounce　of　weight　not　made　up　of　bone　or　essential　connective　tissue；　had　put　back　the　lost　weight　in　the　form　of　muscle　and　were　now　pletely　adapted　to　the　rigors　of　Camp　Leon　Trotsky；　though　they　still　loathed　it。　Bill　marveled　at　the　efficiency　of　the　system。　Civilians　had　to　fool　around　with　examinations；　grades；　retirement　benefits；　seniority；　and　a　thousand　other　factors　that　limited　the　efficiency　of　the　workers。　But　how　easily　the　troopers　did　it！　They　simply　killed　off　the　weaker　ones　and　used　the　survivors。　He　respected　the　system。　Though　he　still　loathed　it。
　　〃You　know　what　I　need；　I　need　a　woman；〃　Ugly　Ugglesway　said。
　　〃Don't　talk　dirty；〃　Bill　told　him　promptly；　since　he　had　been　correctly　brought　up。
　　〃I'm　not　talking　dirty！…〃　Ugly　whined。　〃It's　not　like　I　said　I　wanted　to　re…enlist　or　that　I　thought　Deathwish　was　human　or　anything　like　that。　I　just　said　I　need　a　woman。　Don't　we　all？〃
　　〃I　need　a　drink；〃　Bowb　Brown　said　as　he　took　a　long　swig　from　his　glass　of　dehydrated　reconstituted　beer；　shuddered；　then　squirted　it　out　through　his　teeth　in　a　long　stream　onto　the　concrete；　where　it　instantly　evaporated。
　　〃Affirm；　affirm；〃　Ugly　agreed；　bobbing　his　mat　haired；　warty　head　up　and　down。　〃I　need　a　woman　and　a　drink。〃　His　whine　became　almost　plaintive。　〃After　all；　what　else　is　there　to　want　in　the　troopers　outside　of　out？〃
　　They　thought　about　that　a　long　time；　but　could　think　of　nothing　else　that　anyone　really　wanted。　Eager　Beager　looked　out　from　under　the　table；　where　he　was　surreptitiously　polishing　a　boot　and　said　that　he　wanted　more　polish；　but　they　ignored　him。　Even　Bill；　now　that　he　put　his　mind　to　it；　could　think　of　nothing　he　really　wanted　other　than　this　inextricably　linked　pair。　He　tried　hard　to　think　of　something　else；　since　he　had　vague　memories　of　wanting　other　things　when　he　had　been　a　civilian；　but　nothing　else　came　to　mind。
　　〃Gee；　it's　only　seven　weeks　more　until　we　get　our　first　pass；〃　Eager　said　from　under　the　table；　then　screamed　a　little　as　everyone　kicked　him　at　once。
　　But　slow　as　subjective　time　crawled　by；　the　objective　clocks　were　still　operating；　and　the　seven　weeks　did　pass　by　and　eliminate　themselves　one　by　one。　Busy　weeks　filled　with　all　the　essential　recruit…training　courses：　bayonet　drill；　smallarms　training；　short…arm　inspection；　greypfing；　orientation　lectures；　drill；　munal　singing　and　the　Articles　of　War。　These　last　were　read　with　dreadful　regularity　twice　a　week　and　were　absolute　torture　because　of　the　intense　somnolence　they　brought　on。　At　the　first　rustle　of　the　scratchy；　monotonous　voice　from　the　tape　player　heads　would　begin　to　nod。　But　every　seat　in　the　auditorium　was　wired　with　an　EEG　that　monitored　the　brain　waves　of　the　captive　troopers。　As　soon　as　the　shape　of　the　Alpha　wave　indicated　transition　from　consciousness　to　slumber　a　powerful　jolt　of　current　would　be　shot　into　the　dozing　buttocks；　jabbing　the　owners　painfully　awake。　The　musty　auditorium　was　a　dimly　lit　torture　chamber；　filled　with　the　droning；　dull　voice；　punctuated　by　the　sharp　screams　of　the　electrified；　the　sea　of　nodding　heads　abob　here　and　there　with　painfully　leaping　figures。
　　No　one　ever　listened　to　the　terrible　executions　and　sentences　announced　in　the　Articles　for　the　most　innocent　of　crimes。　Everyone　knew　that　they　had　signed　away　all　human　rights　when　they　enlisted；　and　the　itemizing　of　what　they　had　lost　interested　them　not　in　the　slightest。　What　they　really　were　interested　in　was　counting　the　hours　until　they　would　receive　their　first　pass。　The　ritual　by　which　this　reward　was　begrudgingly　given　was　unusually　humiliating；　but　they　expected　this　and　merely　lowered　their　eyes　and　shuffled　forward　in　the　line；　ready　to　sacrifice　any　remaining　shards　of
their　self…respect　in　exchange　for　the　crimpled　scrap　of　plastic。　This　rite　finished；　there　was　a　scramble　for　the　monorail　train　whose　track　ran　on　electrically　charged　pillars；　soaring　over　the　thirty…foot…high　barbed　wire；　crossing　the　quicksand　beds；　then　dropping　into　the　little　farming　town　of　Leyville。
　　At　least　it　had　been　an　agricultural　town　before　Camp　Leon　Trotsky　had　been　built；　and　sporadically；　in　the　hours　when　the　troopers　weren't　on　leave；　it　followed　its　original　agrarian　bent。　The　rest　of　the　time　the　grain　and　feed　stores　shut　down　and　the　drink　and　knocking　shops　opened。　Many　times　the　same　premises　were　used　for　both　functions。　A　lever　would　be　pulled　when　the　first　of　the　leave　party　thundered　out　of　the　station　and　grain　bins　became　beds；　salesclerks　pimps；　cashiers　retained　their　same　function…though　the　prices　went　up…while　counters　would　be　racked　with　glasses　to　serve　as　bars。　It　was　to　one　of　these　establishments；　a　mortuary…cum…saloon；　that　Bill　and　his　friends　went。
　　〃What'll　it　be；　boys？〃　the　ever　smiling　owner　of　the　Final　Resting　Bar　and　Grill　asked。；
　　〃Double　shot　of　Embalming　Fluid；〃　Bowb　Brown　told　him。
　　〃No　jokes；〃　the　landlord　said；　the　smile　vanishing　for　a　second　as　he　took　down　a　bottle　on　which　the　garish　label　Rte。　WHISKEY　had　been　pasted　over　the　etched…in　EMBALMING　FLUID　〃Any　trouble　I　call　the　MPs。〃　The　smile　returned　as　money　struck　the　co