"Steve Perry - The Man Who Never Missed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Steven)

gravity was close to standard, Bork resorted to weight-lifting to keep in
tone. He could have simply used elec-trostim but Bork preferred the barbells.
More organic, he said.

"Bork. Things peaceful last night after I turned in?" "Yessir. I had to warn a
trooper to quiet down, but he didn't cause any trouble after that."

Khadaji smiled. Bork was soft-spoken most of the time, but when he "warned"
somebody, it could involve lifting them by the shirtfront with one hand until
they were eye-level. He had seen Bork load a flexsteel bar with 275 kilos and
then proceed to bench press it ten times; Bork himself weighed a good hundred
and twenty-five kilos and stood close to two meters high. Most troopers smiled
nervously when Bork passed.
"You're off at eight?"

"Supposed to be," Bork said, "but Sleel had to see the medic so I said I'd
cover for him."

"Sleel sick?"

The larger man looked uncomfortable. "Sir. Sort of."

Khadaji didn't say anything, but he continued to stare at Bork. Finally, Bork
shook his head and said, "You know how Sleel is, he thinks God created him
personally to show the galaxy how to use a cock."

"He caught another exotic kind of veedee?"

"Not this time. He—uh—bet one of the girls he could outlast her."

Khadaji shook his head. "Even full of Android to the eyes he couldn't manage
that. Who'd he bet?"

"Uh... I'm not supposed to... ah, hell, it was Sister Clamp."

Khadaji laughed and shook his head again. "Not really?"

"Yessir. Really."

"I would have liked to see that—after an hour or two. What's he being treated
for, blisters? Or exhaustion?"

"Sister says it's something called flea-bite-us."

"Phlebitis?"

"Yessir. She says it's irritated blood vessels, an inflammation of the veins.
In his—ah—dick."

"Is Sister a medic?"