The Stainless Steel Rat Gets Drafted by Harry Harrison

Author:Harry Harrison [Harrison, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, General, DiGriz; James Bolivar (Fictitious Character) - Fiction
ISBN: 9789994607334
Google: yfuH-ogK4jwC
Amazon: 9994607332
Publisher: Bantam Books
Published: 1987-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

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The sergeant came back with a twenty-liter jerrycan, which with added water would make forty liters of hundred proof drink which, in turn, should make this voyage

more bearable.

We clanked mugs and drank deep.

“This stuff is pretty repulsive,” Morton said holding out his empty cup for more. “Can you now tell us what you found out?”

“I have some good news and some good news. The first good news is that we are going to invade and occupy an incredibly rich and heretofore unknown planet named Chojecki. Secondly—they don’t appear to have any defenses of any kind. No military, no police, nothing.” “Impossible,” the sergeant said.

“Anything is possible in the fullness of time and the width of the galaxy.

Let us hope the report is correct because it will certainly make for an easy invasion.” “I think it is a trap.” The sergeant still wasn’t buying it. I nodded.

“The general seems to think the same thing. He is sure that there is a secret army in hiding.”

“Not necessarily,” Morton said. “Before entering the army I was a student of history. So I can tell you. Diverse are the ways of mankind. As you have so truthfully stated, captain, in the fullness of time and the width of the galaxy there have been many kinds of societies, forms of government …”

“You got governments you got armies. That’s the way it’s got to be.”

The drink was making the sergeant pugnacious and Morton maudlin. Time to close the bar.

“Right. ” I climbed to my feet and kicked the jerrycan of alcohol out of sight under the table. “Sergeant, get the

noncoms together. Tell them what I told you about the invasion, have them pass it on to the troops. That will be all for now.”

The door closed behind the sergeant and Morton dropped his head onto the table and began to snore. He was sure a cheap drunk. I finished the repulsive, though certainly lethal, orange-alcohol mixture and heard my stomach rumble in protest. Or was it hunger? A long time and a lot of distance had gone by since that half-eaten steak in the officers’ club. I dug into my pack and found some of the rations that we had been issued. A reddish tube was labeled HOTPUP MEAL. In smaller print it stated that it would feed two and could be opened by puncturing the white circle on the end. I pulled my combat knife out of my boot and stabbed the thing enthusiastically. It instantly grew exceedingly hot and burned my fingers. I dropped it onto the table where it rumbled and hissed and began to expand. I kept the knife ready in case it attacked me. There was a ripping sound as the casing split open and it expanded into an arm-long sausage. It looked repulsive but smelled quite good. I hacked off the end, impaled it on my knife and ate. The only thing missing was some beer.

Life continued in this manner. Day followed day like the flapping of a great red sausage.

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