Read Bill, The Galactic Hero 6 - on the Planet Of The Hippies From Hell for Free Online

through his system. In an instant he was clearheaded and sober. And hating it. The image of his employer on his wrist spoke again.
    “Excellent to see you working together. I have pressing matters to attend to now, as always, so you guys get to know each other. All the instructions are in your ear, Bill. And if you get to kill any Commupop rabble-rousers along the way, all the better! Over and out.”
    “Gee — isn't Mr. J. Edgar Insufledor just the best boss ever?”
    “Buy me another drink, Elliot. Get one for yourself. We might as well get to know each other, huh?”
    “Yeah, sure, I guess. Bartender — the same again for my friend —”
    “Heavy on the novocaine?” the barman asked.
    “No, bowb-head. I'm sober now so it's back to the booze. Large beer with a whiskey chaser.”
    “And I'll have a root beer. Heavy on the root!”
    “Wait a minute! They're sending me to Barworld with a teetotaler. What kind of cover is that going to be, for Krishna's sake?”
    “Oh — Gee — I drink, Bill. Fact, they say I've got a regular holo-leg!”
    “Hollow leg, you mean. So how come you're not drinking with me? Couple guys get to know each other proper, they should clink a couple of glasses. And I don't mean glasses of root beer.”
    “Gee,” said Elliot Methadrine, nodding as though Bill had said something very profound and wise. “Okay. I'll have a beer.”
    “There. That's better. So we get to know each other, I'll tell you the story of my life. I was born. When I grew up I got tricked into joining the Troopers by a guy named Deathwish Drang, whose fangs these were.” He thumbed one of the protruding teeth in question. It resonated like a tuning fork in B-sharp. “I've been dragged through hell and back, spilled a lot a beer, broken a few hearts and a few heads and feel immensely sorry for myself. And I'm gonna die. Probably soon, but hopefully not before this mission is over. How about you?”
    “Gee — what patriotism. What gritty philosophy! What a hard-boiled man! You are an inspiration to us all.”
    Suspicion filled Bill again. What this geezer said sounded like the ripe-old bowb. But then the barkeep refilled his glass, distracting him. Bill relaxed and drank deep.
    “So go on, tell me your story, partner.”
    “Sure!” The kid wiped the foam off his lips with a sleeve of his coat. “Not much to tell, really. But I'll give her a go!”
    Elliot, as he explained, had been born to be a G-man. Indeed, he had been born on a one-G world, on a planet that circled around a sun called G-Whizz. G-world had been colonized by law officers and Government men and Secret Service agents of the pre-Empire days, during an era of uncharacteristic peace in human history. Having not much in the way of violent peacekeeping to do, the lawmen emigrated to an already colonized world then populated by racists, libertarians and proto-fascists who were fleeing from justice. They had set up their own judicial system, declared most activities on the planet illegal, other than the sale of guns, and promptly began to enforce the new law, with as much bloodshed and gratuitous violence as possible. When the G-men arrived it was warfare at first sight. When they began to lose, the desperate populace began to import criminals, mafiosi and drug dealers from around the galaxy to help them battle this G-men menace, which pleased the law enforcers immensely. A bright entrepreneur set up a documentary channel covering G-world for Galactic cable and it was an instant number-one ratings hit. So much so that within a generation planets began to emulate the action-filled place, and Poof! There went the galactic peace. The Empire was established to restore peace, even if force was needed. They would be saved even if they had to be destroyed. Which sounded familiar. Soon humans on all systems began plugging and zapping one another again, which ended in the ongoing establishment of the Empire once and for all. But after peace broke out, the