bill_the_galactic_hero_v1.1-第9部分

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　　〃Seven　inches；　seven　feet…what　difference　does　it　make！〃　the　laundry　officer　mumbled　petulantly　as　he　wrapped　a　handkerchief　around　his　wounded　hand。　〃You　don't　expect　us　to　tell　the　recruits　how　small　the　enemy　really　are；　or　to
explain　how　they　e　from　a　10G　planet。　We　gotta　keep　the　morale　up。〃　

V

　　Now　that　Eager　Beager　had　turned　out　to　be　a　Chinger　spy；　Bill　felt　very　much　alone。　Bowb　Brown；　who　never　talked　anyway；　now　talked　even　less；　which　meant　never；　so　there　was　no　one　that　Bill　could　bitch　to。　Bowb　was　the　only　other　fuseman　in　the　partment　who　had　been　in　Bill's　squad　at　Camp　Leon　Trotsky；　and　all　of　the　new　men　were　very　clannish　and　given　to　sitting　close　together　and　mumbling　and　throwing　suspicious　looks　over　their　shoulders　if　he　should　e　too　close。　Their　only　recreation　was　welding　and　every　off　watch　they　would　break　out　the　welders　and　weld　things　to　the　floor　and　the　next　watch　cut　them　loose　again；　which　is　about　as　dim　a　way　of　wasting　time　as　there　is；　but　they　seemed　to　enjoy　it。　So　Bill　was　very　much　out　of　things　and　tried　bitching　to　Eager　Beager。
　　〃Look　at　the　trouble　you　got　me　into！〃　he　whined。　　Beager　just　smiled　back；　unmoved　by　the　plaint。
　　〃At　least　close　your　head　when　I'm　talking　to　you；〃　Bill　snarled；　and　reached　over　to　slam　the　top　of　Eager's　head　shut。　But　it　didn't　do　any　good。　Eager　couldn't　do　anything　any　more　except　smile。　He　had　polished　his　last　boot。　He　just　stood　there　now；　he　was　really　very　heavy　and　besides　was　magnetized　to　the　floor；　and　the　fuse　tenders　hung　their　dirty　shirts　and　arc　welders　on　him。　He　stayed　there　for　three　watches　before　someone　figured　out　what　to　do　with　him；　until　finally　a　squad　of　MPs　came　with　crowbars　and　tilted　him　into　a　handcar　and　rolled　him　away。
　　〃So　long；〃　Bill　called　out；　waving　after　him；　then　went　back　to　polishing　his　boots。　〃He　was　a　good　buddy；　even　if　he　was　a　Chinger　spy。〃
　　Bowb　didn't　answer　him；　and　welders　wouldn't　talk　to　him；　and　he　spent　a　lot　of　the　time　avoiding　Reverend　Tembo。　The　grand　old　lady　of　the　fleet；　Christine　Keeler；　was　still　in　orbit　while　her　engines　were　being　installed。　There　was　very　little　to　do；　because；　in　spite　of　what　First　Class　Spleen　had　said；　they　had　mastered　all　the　intricacies　of　fuse　tending　in　a　little　less　than　the　prescribed　year；　in　fact　it　took　them　something　like　maybe　fifteen　minutes。　In　his　free　time　Bill　wandered　around　the　ship；　going　as　far　as　the　MPs　who　guarded　the　hatchways　would　allow　him；　and　even　considered　going　back　to　see　the　chaplain　so　he　could　have　someone　to　bitch　to。　But　if　he　timed　it　wrong　he　might　meet　the　laundry　officer　again；　and　that　was　more　than　he　could　face。　So　he　walked　through　the　ship；　very　much　alone；　and　looked　in　through　the　door　of　a　partment　and　saw　a　boot　on　a　bed。
　　Bill　stopped；　frozen；　immobile；　shocked；　rigid；　horrified；　dismayed；　and　had　to　fight　for　control　of　his　suddenly　contracted　bladder。
　　He　knew　that　boot。　He　would　never　forget　that　boot　until　the　day　he　died；　just　as　he　would　never　forget　his　serial　number　and　could　say　it　frontward　or　backward　or　from　the　inside　out。　Every　detail　of　that　terrible　boot　was　clear　in　his　memory；　from　the　snakelike　laces　in　the　repulsive　leather　of　the　uppers…said　to　be　made　of　human　skin…to　the　corrugated　stamping…soles　tinged　with　red　that　could　only　have　been　human　blood。　That　boot　belonged　to　Deathwish　Drang。
　　The　boot　was　attached　to　a　leg；　and　paralyzed　with　terror；　as　unable　to　control　himself　as　a　bird　before　a　snake；　he　found　himself　leaning　further　and　further　into　the　pact　ment　as　his　eyes　traced　up　the　leg　past　the　belt　to　the　shirt　to　the　neck　upon　which　rested　the　face　that　had　featured　largely　in　his　nightmares　since　he　had　enlisted。　The　lips　moved。
　　〃Is　that　you；　Bill？　C'mon　in　and　rest　it。〃
　　Bill　stumbled　in。
　　〃Have　a　hunk　of　candy；〃　Deathwish　said；　and　smiled。
　　Reflex　drove　Bill's　fingers　into　the　offered　box　and　set　his　jaw　chewing　on　the　first　solid　food　that　had　passed　his　lips　in　weeks。　Saliva　spouted　from　dusty　orifices；　and　his　stomach　gave　a　preliminary　rumble；　while　his　thoughts　drove　maddingly　in　circles　as　he　tried　to　figure　out　what　that　expression　was　on　Deathwish's　face。　Lips　curved　up　at　the　corners　behind　the　tusks；　little　crinkles　on　the　cheeks。　It　was　hopeless。　He　could　not　recognize　it。
　　〃I　hear　Eager　Beager　turned　out　to　be　a　Chinger　spy；〃　Deathwish　said；　closing　the　box　of　candy　and　sliding　it　under　the　pillow。　〃I　should　have　figured　that　one　out　myself。　I　knew　there　was　something　very　wrong　with　him；　doing　his　buddies'　boots　and　that　crap；　but　I　thought　he　was　just　nuts。　Should　have　known　better　。　。　。〃
　　〃Deathwish；〃　Bill　said　hoarsely；　〃it　can't　be；　I　know…but　you　are　acting　like　a　human　being！〃
　　Deathwish　chuckled；　not　his　ripsaw…slicing…human…bone　chuckle；　but　an　almost　normal　one。
　　Bill　stammered。　〃But　you　are　a　sadist；　a　pervert；　a　beast；　a　creature；　a　thing；　a　murderer　。　。　。〃
　　〃Why；　thanks；　Bill。　That's　very　nice　to　hear。　I　try　to　do　my　job　to　the　best　of　my　abilities；　but　I'm　human　enough　to　enjoy　a　word　of　praise　now　and　then。　Being　a　murderer　is　hard　to　project；　but　I'm　glad　it　got　across；　even　to　a　recruit　as　stupid　as　you　were。〃
　　〃B…but　。　。　。　aren't　you　really　a　。　。　。〃
　　〃Easy　now！〃　Deathwish　snapped；　and　there　was　enough　of　the　old　venom　and　vileness　to　lower　Bill's　body　temperature　six　degrees。　Then　Deathwish　smiled　again。　〃Can't　blame　you；　son；　for　carrying　on　this　way；　you　being　kind　of　stupid　and　from　a　rube　planet　and　having　your　education　retarded　by　the　troopers　and　all　that。　But　wake　up；　boyl　Military　education　is　far　too　important　a　thing　to　be　wasted　by　allowing　amateurs　to　get　involved。　If　you　read　some　of　the　things　in　our　college　textbooks　it　would　make　your　blood　run　cold；　yes　indeed。　Do　you　realize　that　in　prehistoric　times　the　drill　sergeants；　or　whatever　it　was　they　called　them；　were　real　sadists！　The　armed　forces　would　let　these　people　with　no　real　knowledge　absolutely　destroy　recruits。　Let　them　learn　to　hate　the　service　before　they　learned　to　fear　it；　which　plays　hell　with　discipline。　And　talk　about　wasteful！　They　were　always　marching　someone　to　death　by　accident　or　drowning　a　squad　or　nonsense　like　that。　The　waste　alone　would　make　you　cry。〃
　　〃Could　I　ask　what　you　majored　in　in　college？〃　Bill　asked　in　a　very　tiny　and　humble　voice。
　　〃Military　Discipline；　Spirit　breaking；　and　Method　Acting。　A　rough　course；　four　years；　but　I　graduated　sigma　cum；　which　is　not　bad　for　a　boy　from　a　working…class　family。　I've　made　a　career　of　the　service；　and　that's　why　I　can't　understand　why　the　ungrateful　bastards　went　and　shipped　me　out　on　this　crummy　can！〃　He　lifted　his　gold…rimmed　glasses　to　flick　away　a　developing　tear。
　　〃You　expect　gratitude　from　the　service？〃　Bill　asked　humbly。
　　〃No；　of；　course　not；　how　foolish　of　me。　Thanks　for　jerking　me　back　into　line；　Bill；　…you'll　make　a　good　trooper。　All　I　expect　is　criminal　indifference　which　I　can　take　advantage　of　by　working　through　the　Old　Boys　Network；　bribery；　cutting　false　orders；　black…marketing；　and　the　other　usual　things。　It's　just　that　I　had　been　doing　a　good　job　on　you　slobs　in　Camp　Leon　Trotsky；　and　the　l　east　I　expected　was　to　be　left　alone　to　keep　doing　it；　which　was　pretty　damn　stupid　of　me。　I　had　better　get　cracking　on　my　transfer　now。〃　He　slid　to　his　feet　and　stowed　the　candy　and　gold…rimmed　glasses　away　in　a　locked　footlocker。
　　Bill；　who　in　moments　of　shock　found　it　hard　to　adjust　instantly；　was　still　bobbing　his　head　and　occasionally　banging　it　with　the　heel　of　his　hand。　〃Lucky　thing；〃　he　said；　〃for　your　chosen　career　that　you　were　born　deformed…I　mean　you　have　such　nice　teeth。〃
　　〃Luck　nothing；〃　Deathwish　said；　plunking　one　of　his　projecting　tusks；　〃expensive　as　hell。　Do　you　know　what　a　genemutated；　vat…grown；　surgically…implanted　set　of　two…inch　tusks　cost？　I　bet　you　don't　know！　I　worked　the　summer　vac　for　three　years　to　earn　enough　to　buy　these…but　I　tell　you　they　were　worth　it。　The　image；　that's　everything。　I　studied　the　old　tapes　of　prehistoric　spirit…breakers；　and　in　their　own　crude　way　they　were　good。　Selected　by　physical　type　and　low　I。Q。　of　course；　but　they　knew　their　roles。　Bulletheads；　shaved　clean；　with　scars；　thick　jaws；　repulsive　manners；　hot
pants；　everything。　I　figured　a　small　investment　in　the　beginning　would　pay　rich　dividends　in　the　end。　And　it　was　a　sacrifice；　believe　me；　you　won't　see　many　implanted　tusks　around！　For　a　lot　of　reasons。　Oh；　maybe　they　are　good　for
eating　tough　meat；　but　what　the　hell　else？　Wait　until　you　try　kissing　your　first　girl　。　。　。　Now；　get　lost；　Bill；　I　got　things　to　do。　See　you　around　。　。　。〃
　　His　last　words　faded　in　the　distance；　since　Bill's　well…conditioned　reflexes　had　carried　him　down　the　corridor　the　instant　he　had　been　dismissed。　When　the　spontaneous　terror　faded；　he　began　to　walk　with　a　crafty　roll；　like　a　duck　with　a　sprung　kneecap；　that　he　thought　looked　like　an　old　spacesailor's　gait。　He　was　beginning　to　feel　a　seasoned　hand　and　momentarily　labored　under　the　delusion　that　he　knew　more　about　the　troopers　than　they　knew　about　him。　This　pathetic　misconception　was　dispelled　instantly　by　the　speakers　on　the　ceiling；　which　belched　and　then　grated　their　nasal　voices　throughout　the　ship。　
　　〃Now　hear　t