BILL The Galactic Hero By Harry Harrison

The projected scene changed; the clouds grew closer, while from the little speaker came the tiny sound of a heavenly choir with drum accompaniment. Now the figures could be seen clearly, all with very dark skins and white robes from the back of which protruded great black wings. They smiled and waved gracefully to each other as their clouds passed, while singing enthusiastically and beating on the little tomtoms that each one carried. It was a lovely scene, and Bill’s eyes misted a bit.

“Attention!”

The barking tones echoed from the walls and the troopers snapped their shoulders back, heels together, eyes ahead. The heavenly choir vanished as Tembo shoved the projector back into his pocket.

“As you was,” First Class Spleen ordered, and they turned to see him leading two MPs with drawn handguns who were acting as bodyguards for an officer. Bill knew it was an officer because they had had an officer-identification course, plus the fact that there was a KNOW YOUR OFFICERS chart on the latrine wall that he had had a great deal of opportunity to study during an anguilluliasis epidemic. His jaw gaped open as the officer went by, almost close enough to touch, and stopped in front of Tembo.

“Fuse Tender Sixth Class Tembo, I have good news for you. In two weeks your seven-year period of enlistment will be up, and because of your fine record Captain Zekial has authorized a doubling of the usual mustering-out pay, an honorable discharge with band music, as well as your free transport back to Earth.”

Tembo, relaxed and firm, looked down at the runty lieutenant with the well-chewed blond mustache who stood before him. “That will be impossible, Sir.”

“Impossible!” the lieutenant screeched, and rocked back and forth on his high heeled boots. “Who are you to tell me what is impossible … I”

“Not I, Sir,” Tembo answered with utmost calm. “Regulation i3-9A, paragraph 45, page 8923, volume 43 of Rules, Regulations and Articles of War. ‘No man nor officer shall or will receive a discharge other than dishonorable with death sentence from a vessel, post, base, camp, ship, outpost, or labor camp during time of emergency …’ “

“Are you a ship’s lawyer, Tembo?”

“No, Sir. I’m a loyal trooper, Sir. I just want to do my duty, Sir.”

“There’s something very funny about you, Tembo. I saw in your record that you enlisted voluntarily without drugs and or hypnotics being used. Now you refuse discharge. That’sbad, Tembo, very bad. Gives you a bad name. Makes you look suspicious. Makes you look like a spy or something.”

“I’m a loyal trooper, of the Emperor, sir, not a spy.”

“You’re not a spy, Tembo, we have looked into that very carefully. But why are you in the service, Tembo?”

“To be a loyal trooper of the Emperor, sir, and to do my best to spread the gospel. Have you been saved, sir?”

“Watch your tongue, trooper or I’ll have you up on charges! Yes, we know that story-Reverend-but we don’t believe it. You’re being too tricky, but we’ll find out …” He stalked away, muttering to himself, and they all snapped to attention until he was gone. The other troopers looked at Tembo oddly and did not feel comfortable until he had gone. Bill and Eager walked slowly back to their quarters.

“Turned down a discharge … !” Bill mumbled in awe.

“Gee,” Eager said, “maybe he’s. nuts. I can’t think of any other reason.”

“Nobody could be that crazy,” Bill said. “I wonder what’s in there?” pointing to a door with a large sign that read ADMITTANCE TO AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

“Gee-I don’t know-maybe food?”

They slipped through instantly and closed the door behind them, but there was no food there. Instead they were in a long chamber with one curved wall, while attached to this wall were cumbersome devices each set with meters, dials, switches, controls, levers, a view screen, and a relief tube. Bill bent over and read the label on the nearest one.

“Mark IV Atomic Blaster-and look at the size of them! This must be the ship’s main battery.” He turned around and saw that Eager was holding his arm up so that his wrist watch pointed at the guns and was pressing on the crown with the index finger of his other hand.

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