Harry Harrison Bill 06 On The Planet Of The Hippies From Hell (Dav

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cameraman who was, perforce, forced to remain slightly awake.
No cliche of bad acting went uncliched. No dusty SF prop went unused, no spark
of creativity was not instantly snuffed out.
"Take that and that you filthy crawling alien life form!" Bill foamed
through spittle-licked lips.
"Sid I gotta see you!"
"Cut!" Sid shouted and foamed himself. "Who is it? What is it? The red light
was lit, we're shooting a
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Bill, the Galactic Hero on the Planet of The Hippies From Hell masterpiece and
you walk in!" He shielded his eyes against the light and made out two forms
approaching.
"I know you! You are Bluto my driver-bodyguard. You know better than to do
this. And if you don't, then you know, Sheldon Fastbuck my lifetime friend and
accountant."
"It's because I do know," Sheldon said, his words dripping gloom. "Because I
know the price of film, cameras, union cameramen "
"Watch any badmouth crap about the union!" the cameraman shouted.
"I apologize. I'm upset," Sheldon moaned. "I love the unions my son's an
organizer for the longshoremen but I had to instantly if not sooner bring
this heartbreaking news to Sid."
"My darling mother in Miami! " Sid shrieked in pain.
" is in perfect health! Like your dear sister and your father in jail. I do
not come about health but about something more important. I come about the
bank."
A hush fell. The air chilled. Sid gasped and stepped back. "What about the
bank!" he breathed hoarsely.
"The bank called "
"Tell me!"
"They called about a check!"
"Don't spare me a little check?"
"A
big check. The check this momser gave you. It was a rubber check!"
"Bounced!" Sid screamed.
"As high as the moon."
Now Sid's voice was cold as death. He turned, pointed a cruel finger. "Bluto
kill!
These vermin
out!"
Big as he was, and heavy as he was, Bluto was greased lightning. Even as the
word out was echoing from the rafters, he had Elliot-Bgr by the seat of the
trousers and was hurling him through the emergency exit door.
"I say!" Sir Dudley said, waking with a start. "Hold on you can't do that."
"Bluto already done it buddy so don't interfere," Bluto grimaced, seizing up
Bill even as he spoke. Bill struggled against the steel grip to no avail. Sir
D stepped forward to complain just as Bluto pulled Bill back in a swinging arc
then hurled him at the door.
But Sir. Dudley was in the way. He recoiled, but it was too late.
Bill was thrown through the Time Portal and into the uncharted wastes of
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convoluted time.
CHAPTER 19
When Bill awoke, he immediately noted two things.
The first was that he didn't have a headache.
The second was that he was stone cold sober.
Both of these facts were quite remarkable. He felt quite good physically,
rested and fit. He felt in top shape, like he used to feel back on a holiday
on Phigerinadon II after a good sleep-in. In fact, he would have just lain
where he was, reveling in his good feelings, were it not for the fact that he
suddenly and unequivocally realized that he hadn't the faintest idea where the
hell he was!
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Bill, the Galactic Hero on the Planet of The Hippies From Hell
Bill opened his eyes.
Above him was a metal wall of riveted panels. A soft alarm rang behind him,
and he angled his gaze to take in some kind of instrument panel with dials and
digital readouts.
He heard the sound of soft footsteps padding toward him.
"Well, then! You're awake," said a clear, precise voice. "How are we feeling
today?"
"Okay," said Bill suspiciously, noncommittally. He looked up at the speaker,
saw a nondescript man in a short haircut, a bland angular face wearing a
doctor's smock. The man carried a clipboard, and this he consulted.
"Well, guy, whoever you are, you were quite a mess, internally. Trooper's
tummy we call it. We can't have that kind of thing, no sir. So we cleaned you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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