"Harry Harrison & Jack C. Haldeman - Bill the Galactic Hero 5" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

"Of course, you'll have to stay off that bud until the foot grows out," said Hackenslash, handing him a pair
of crutches. "I'm sorry I couldn't make you battle-ready in a jiffy. You'll just have to wait until it grows."
"How long will that take?" smirked Bill gleefully, taking the crutches, which were dented and about
twelve sizes too short.
"Quite a long time, I'm afraid. You can't rush mother nature."
"That's really too bad," Bill smarmed insincerely, with visions of weeks of no duty, months of lolling
around, years of recuperation. "It pains me not to be able to get back into the fight right away. I guess I'll
have to go on permanent sick call."
"That will be up to Commander Cook," said the doctor. "Take this note to him and don't forget to mention
that I need a new door."
Bill left Hackenslash's office feeling about thirty-five pounds lighter, and he was halfway to Commander
Cook's quarters before his back started killing him from bending over the too-small crutches.
The commander was staring out the window with his hands clasped behind his back when Bill arrived and
tried to salute, managing to get all tangled up in his crutches so that he tumbled to the floor and rolled on
his back like a beetle.
The commander bulged his eyes at this repulsive sight, then decided to ignore it. "At ease, Trooper," he
ordered. As always, he was wearing his full-dress uniform, complete with saber, shotgun, sashes, ribbons,
bullwhip, and medals that were really contraceptive holders, all this topped with an ornate gold-braid-
covered tricornered hat. Reluctantly, he turned from the struggling Trooper and sighed.
"It's lonely at the top," he implied. "Just look out that window, Trooper. What do you see?"
"Stars, sir," said Bill. "That's about all anyone can see from this miserable place."
"Stars, son? Well, I guess some short-sighted un-imaginative son of a bowb like you would only see stars,
but I see glory. Yes, glory — and conflict! Warfare that pits man against Chinger. Great battles just filled
to overflowing with heroic acts and doomed, selfless sacrifices. Facing death on a daily basis, doing what
a man has to do, tests a man's mettle, wouldn't you agree?"
"If you say so, sir," said Bill, who fervently thought no such thing.
"Makes men out of boys, women out of girls, heroes out of cowards, dogs out of cats. Nothing like death
to make a person feel alive. Of course, some of us, besieged by circumstance, must stand back and serve.
Without us supplying them, the frontline troops wouldn't stand a chance against the enemy. Take toilet
paper. Have you ever considered the strategic ramifications of toilet paper, Trooper?"
"Can't say as I have, sir," said Bill, who was beginning to wonder, and not for the first time, if the
commander was playing with a full deck.
"Too much toilet paper and they'll have to jettison ammunition or fuel to make room to store it. Too little
and they'll spend all their time looking for substitutes when they should be fighting. We could lose the
war because of toilet paper. Sink the entire operation because they had to make room — make room! Just
think about that, son."
Bill did, and decided on the spot that the commander's elevator didn't go all the way to the top floor.
"Making command decisions about toilet paper is a terrible burden. With one forged requisition slip the


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 Bill, the Galactic Hero on the Planet of Zombie Vampires

Chingers could destroy our entire armed forces."
Bill nodded, firmly convinced now that the commander was one brick shy of a load.
"Consider the mighty decimal point. With one slip of a decimal point.... Say, what happened to your foot?
Aren't you the bowb who's been trashing my installation?"
"Doctor Hackenslash needs a new door," said Bill hastily. "And he said for me to give you this."
Commander Cook took the note and shook his head as he read it, his lips moving reluctantly as he spelled
out the harder words.