On the Planet of Bottled Brains by Harry Harrison & Robert Sheckley

Author:Harry Harrison & Robert Sheckley [Harrison, Harry & Sheckley, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, General, Humour, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780380756629
Google: J0XQPTuo6_oC
Amazon: 0380756625
Goodreads: 1038587
Publisher: Avon Books
Published: 1990-04-01T20:45:52+00:00

Afterward, Bill couldn't believe how silly he had been to accept the reprimand like that without finding out exactly what it was. Alien races were alien and sneaky, that had been drilled into him by the military. Along with a lot of other things that he was trying to forget. They had long preached distrust of everyone who was not like them. Since there were few potbellied and prematurely bald races in the universe, this meant they distrusted everyone. The Swinglis* had an especially bad reputation. "Swindlers, that's what I call them," Bill's old sergeant Assbreaker had told him at basic at Fort Ziggurat where Bill had been sent for a repeater course in case he had forgotten how to scream during bayonet drill. "I call them Swindlers and that's what they are. And I'll tell you something else, too. They can't take a joke."

Bill had seen that for himself. But he hadn't expected the unexpected nature of the reprimand. When they wheeled out the white cart with the black velvet cloth on it, he had felt like laughing again. It was just like the Swinglis* to deliver a reprimand on black velvet. But his laughter died with a squawk as the bailiff, at a signal from the middle judge, carefully folded back the black velvet and revealed beneath it what looked at first like a tiny ornamental scarab. Then guards seized and held him as the bailiff held the glittering little thing close to his ear. This was no laughing matter. Bill tried to pull down the whole bunch of them, and came close to succeeding, since his short and muscular frame was able to play merry hell with the eccentrically tall and badly-proportioned Swinglis* — one more reason, by the way, why the Swinglis* always suspect people of laughing at them. But he couldn't take them all out. They held him as the bailiff extended the glittering scarab-like creature toward his ear.

As it approached the globular exterior, by some sensing device not generally known, it split open like a multi-petalled flower. Out of its middle came a tiny thing that looked like a short length of platinum wire but was actually a psychoactive broadcasting device. The wire squirmed into Bill's ear, not causing any pain, but a good deal of discomfort at the mere knowledge that the damned thing was there. Bill pulled one arm free and clawed at his ear until the guards overpowered him again. The middle judge said, "No need to carry on like that, young fellow. It's merely a reprimand, and when it has done its job it will vacate your ear. No damage will be done to you. But you will hear the reprimand."

Bill didn't have to be told that. Already a voice in his head — detectable as a recorded voice because of its tinniness — was saying, "You were bad, you were very bad; why did you do such a thing; how could you ever have; you were bad, very bad, oh yes you were bad.

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