Bill, The Galactic Hero 6 - on the Planet Of The Hippies From Hell by Harry Harrison Page A
Authors: Harry Harrison
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Elliot. “Sounds ominous.”
With quick skill the savages hog-tied Bill and Elliot thoroughly, then started to drag them through the hot desert sand toward their date with the local deities.
All in all, Bill thought, an impressively depressing first day back in the past.
But then that wasn't precisely a surprise, since all of Bill's past was depressing.
Water splashed on Bill's face.
As much as he usually disdained the stuff, he found himself gulping at it automatically, to slake the mammoth thirst that engulfed him. For a moment he thought he was on some blissful pleasure planet, in bathing suit and water-wings, frolicking with water nymphs; such was the dementia that the baking sun had brought about. Ah yes! The resort of Blub-blub on the world of Glug; or perhaps even Splash-Splash Beach in the Snorkle-Dork system!
But no sooner had these gulps of water hauled him back up out of the depths of unconsciousness than Bill realized that not only was the sun beating down on him explicitly not of the vacation-resort variety, but that he was still stuck in this horrible desert in this wretched time, with the added burden of a good dozen cactus spines stuck in his nether parts.
“Ye — Ouch!” he said, blundering up to his feet, blinking and gasping. Well, it would seem that he'd been freed of his bonds, but that didn't necessarily mean anything wonderful. Bill wiped the water from his eyes and stumbled about, trying to get bearing and balance. “Elliot! Where are you, Elliot!” he called, trying to make out the parched environment with his bleared vision. He staggered forward a few yards, until he bumped into something ... something hard. He heard a distinct hissing sound in stereo, and he thought maybe he'd bumped into some sort of motorized vehicle with two punctured tires. He stepped back so as not to get run over, and to get a better look at this obstacle.
Groaning, Bill wiped the water from his eyes. He looked up, and what stood before him was most emphatically not what he'd expected.
“Yikes!” said Bill, forgetting the pain of the cactus needles. For, rearing above him at a goodly height of ten feet was a monolithic creature of ghastly countenance. In fact, two countenances — and both of the heads looked like serpents or alligators or something else definitely Chingeroid.
Twin serpent tongues flickered out at ridiculous lengths. Glittering eyes stared down at Bill. Nor was this the last of the terrors this outrageously repulsive creature held. Its arms held out toward Bill ended in hands like scorpion tails. Great breasts like unholstered howitzers hung from the chest: whatever creature it was, it was female. In fact, it even wore some sort of skirt. A curious fashion statement indeed, the skirt appeared to consist entirely of living, curling snakes!
No, this female was not precisely the answer to his lustful prayers!
Bill staggered back, but tripped and fell. With a great snarling, threatening heave, the monster roared toward him.
“Don't eat me!” cried Bill. “I don't taste very good! Elliot! Help! Sir Dudley! Help! Anybody! Help!”
But Elliot and Sir Dudley did not respond, nor in fact did anybody come to the rescue. The monstrous thing rolled up to Bill, hovering.
“Who.... Who are you?” asked Bill, squinting up at the thing, a bit blinded by the bright sun.
“My name,” said the creature, “is Cue-tip the mighty Aztec God, who guards this valley and consumes anyone who dares venture anywhere near that highly significant secret cave yonder that leads to someplace mysterious and highly forbidden! And you?”
“Bill.”
“Bill. A good and highly edible name.” The two pair of eyes glittered like jewels in the sun. “Bill-thing ... either you are very crazy to be here or the strong warriors of the Epoxy tribe have sent you down as a tasty sacrifice to get gulped down by my loathsome hungry self!”
“Actually, neither. I'm just — er — a friendly pilgrim in search of
With quick skill the savages hog-tied Bill and Elliot thoroughly, then started to drag them through the hot desert sand toward their date with the local deities.
All in all, Bill thought, an impressively depressing first day back in the past.
But then that wasn't precisely a surprise, since all of Bill's past was depressing.
Water splashed on Bill's face.
As much as he usually disdained the stuff, he found himself gulping at it automatically, to slake the mammoth thirst that engulfed him. For a moment he thought he was on some blissful pleasure planet, in bathing suit and water-wings, frolicking with water nymphs; such was the dementia that the baking sun had brought about. Ah yes! The resort of Blub-blub on the world of Glug; or perhaps even Splash-Splash Beach in the Snorkle-Dork system!
But no sooner had these gulps of water hauled him back up out of the depths of unconsciousness than Bill realized that not only was the sun beating down on him explicitly not of the vacation-resort variety, but that he was still stuck in this horrible desert in this wretched time, with the added burden of a good dozen cactus spines stuck in his nether parts.
“Ye — Ouch!” he said, blundering up to his feet, blinking and gasping. Well, it would seem that he'd been freed of his bonds, but that didn't necessarily mean anything wonderful. Bill wiped the water from his eyes and stumbled about, trying to get bearing and balance. “Elliot! Where are you, Elliot!” he called, trying to make out the parched environment with his bleared vision. He staggered forward a few yards, until he bumped into something ... something hard. He heard a distinct hissing sound in stereo, and he thought maybe he'd bumped into some sort of motorized vehicle with two punctured tires. He stepped back so as not to get run over, and to get a better look at this obstacle.
Groaning, Bill wiped the water from his eyes. He looked up, and what stood before him was most emphatically not what he'd expected.
“Yikes!” said Bill, forgetting the pain of the cactus needles. For, rearing above him at a goodly height of ten feet was a monolithic creature of ghastly countenance. In fact, two countenances — and both of the heads looked like serpents or alligators or something else definitely Chingeroid.
Twin serpent tongues flickered out at ridiculous lengths. Glittering eyes stared down at Bill. Nor was this the last of the terrors this outrageously repulsive creature held. Its arms held out toward Bill ended in hands like scorpion tails. Great breasts like unholstered howitzers hung from the chest: whatever creature it was, it was female. In fact, it even wore some sort of skirt. A curious fashion statement indeed, the skirt appeared to consist entirely of living, curling snakes!
No, this female was not precisely the answer to his lustful prayers!
Bill staggered back, but tripped and fell. With a great snarling, threatening heave, the monster roared toward him.
“Don't eat me!” cried Bill. “I don't taste very good! Elliot! Help! Sir Dudley! Help! Anybody! Help!”
But Elliot and Sir Dudley did not respond, nor in fact did anybody come to the rescue. The monstrous thing rolled up to Bill, hovering.
“Who.... Who are you?” asked Bill, squinting up at the thing, a bit blinded by the bright sun.
“My name,” said the creature, “is Cue-tip the mighty Aztec God, who guards this valley and consumes anyone who dares venture anywhere near that highly significant secret cave yonder that leads to someplace mysterious and highly forbidden! And you?”
“Bill.”
“Bill. A good and highly edible name.” The two pair of eyes glittered like jewels in the sun. “Bill-thing ... either you are very crazy to be here or the strong warriors of the Epoxy tribe have sent you down as a tasty sacrifice to get gulped down by my loathsome hungry self!”
“Actually, neither. I'm just — er — a friendly pilgrim in search of
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