Bill, The Galactic Hero 6 - on the Planet Of The Hippies From Hell by Harry Harrison Page B

revelation. Thought maybe I would join your church. Religion, can't get too much of that. Any other god hereabouts besides your noble self?”
    “So you seek religious succor. No way — you have to be born into the tribe. And there is no help from the others. Who include deities such as Phlegm — he's the one who favors chewing on beating hearts. And then there's Texaco, the condor beast; he likes to eat small human babies. And of course there's the noble king-god Coaxialcoitus, who devours the naked human maidens! Lots more minor deities, I suppose, but those are your basic pantheon, intruder. Now, if you'll be very still I'll just make short painful work instead of long drawn-out agony and you'll be my afternoon sacrificial supper, good and proper!”
    Bill, however, had no intention of being anyone's supper, god or no god. “Look, I've got all these prickly things in me. I'll be quite rough going down your throat.”
    “No problem. I'll murder you first and pluck you later!” The Aztec god bellowed the words, advancing. The snakes hissed and the scorpion claws snapped.
    Bill was motivated to backpedal.
    “Stay still, for there is no escape from the gods,” roared the creature. “How can I kill you if you keep scrabbling away from me?”
    Keep her talking! The adrenalin-induced advice sizzled through Bill's brain cells. “But I seek guidance of the gods, great Cue-tip. Could you not reveal to a sinner exactly what's behind that door there?”
    “What's behind the secret door? You mean, the door to the mysterious tunnel into an entirely different world? The one that I'm guarding? Well, I really can't tell you, now can I? That would be telling, and I'm here to guard the secret and — wait ... hey, come back here! You tricked me! You didn't really want to know! You just wanted the chance to escape from me! I bet you taste rotten! You don't really deserve to be eaten by a god!”
    “I'll tell you what you can eat, Cue-tip!”
    Bill was tearing away by this time, skipping yards ahead of the thing, but happy to be alive, despite the severe discomfort the cactus spines were causing. Surprised, as always, at the amount of energy he was able to invest into the continuation of his imminent personal survival, Bill tore up a long wide arroyo, strained his way up the slope, made a Herculean leap over the top, and even as he did he was gratified to hear the hissing and rattling of the guard-god Cue-tip receding behind him. He rolled down a dusty hill on the other side, gasping and heaving breaths.
    And banged smack into a pair of legs. “Good grief,” said a too-familiar voice. “You're supposed to have been gobbled up quite thoroughly by now!”
    Bill looked up. His heart and his bowels sank. Standing before him was Chief Thunder Bluster, his men behind him with their previous complement of fearsome, deadly weapons.
    “This one's a crafty cobber, sir!” intoned Buffalo Billabong, the tribe's medicine man. “Cue-tip had her chance, as prescribed. May I suggest that we add another log to that sacrificial fire.”
    Bill sighed as his head slammed into the dirt. He definitely didn't like the sound of that.
    Talk about out of the frying pan...

CHAPTER 10
    ...And into the fire!
    “Another fine mess!” said Elliot. “That's getting to be the story of my life!”
    Elliot Methadrine was tied to a round stake stuck into the ground. Bill, much to his dismay, was tied to the other side of that same stake. His feet were slowly being covered by mesquite logs carried up to the imminent bonfire by a brace of squaws.
    “Sir Dudley will come back for us!” gulped Bill, trying to con himself into some hope. “And what's the chance of your Time Central boys homing in on our whereabouts!”
    “We're a needle in a Timestack, Bill. They'll never find us!” moaned Elliot. “And I'm afraid I haven't got much faith in Sir Dudley!”
    “So what do we do, then?” Bill asked.
    “Attempt to reason with these savages, I suppose,”