Player Piano by Kurt Vonnegut Page B

mess spoon and mess fork and mess knife and canteen were shining and that his wooden rifle was waxed and its simulated metalwork blackened and his shoes shined and that the extra pair under his bunk were laced to the
top
and tied and that the clothes on his hangers went: two shirts, O.D.;two pants, O.D.; three shirts, khaki; three pants, khaki; two shirts, herringbone twill; two pants, herringbone twill; field jacket; dress blouse, O.D.; raincoat, O.D.; and that all the pockets were empty and buttoned and then the inspecting officer came through and said, “Hey soldier, your fly’s open and no pass for you,” and—
    “Fay-yuss.”
    “Hut, two,” said Hacketts.
    “For’d—”
    “For’d, for’d, for’d, for’d, for’d for’d …”
    “For’d,” said Hacketts to himself.
    And Hacketts wondered where the hell he’d go in the next twenty-three years and thought it’d be a relief to get the hell out of the States for a while and go occupy someplace else and maybe be somebody in some of those countries instead of a bum with no money looking for an easy lay and not getting it in his own country or not getting a good lay anyway but still a pretty good lay compared to no lay at all but anyway there was more to living than laying and he’d like a little glory by God and there might be laying
and
glory overseas and while there wasn’t any shooting and wasn’t going to be none either probably for a good long while still you got a real gun and bullets and there was a little glory in that and sure as hell it was more grownup than marching up and down with a wooden one and he’d sure like a little rank too but he knew what his I.Q. was and everybody else did too and especially the machines so that was that for twenty-three more years unless one of the machines burned out a tube and misread his card and sent him to O.C.S. and that happened now and then and there was old Mulcahy who got ahold of his card and doctored it with an icepick so the machines would think he was qualified for a big promotion but he got restricted to barracks instead for having clap twenty-six times and then transferred to the band as a trombone player when he couldn’t even whistle “Hot Cross Buns” and anyway it was better than the frigging Reeks and Wrecks any day andno big worries and a nice-looking suit only the pants ought to have zippers and in only twenty-three more years he could go up to some sonofabitching general or colonel or something and say, “Kiss my—”
    “Harch!”
    “Boom!” went the bass drum, and down came Hacketts’ left foot, and off he went in the midst of the vast, tractable human avalanche.
    “Takaru,”
said the Shah to Khashdrahr above the din.
    Khashdrahr nodded and smiled agreement.
“Takaru.
”
    “What the hell am I supposed to do?” said Halyard unhappily to General of the Armies Bromley. “This guy thinks of everything he sees in terms of his own country, and his own country must be a Goddamn mess.”
    “Amerikka vagga bouna, ni houri manko Salim da vagga dinko,”
said the Shah.
    “What’s eating him now?” said Halyard impatiently.
    “He say Americans have changed almost everything on earth,” said Khashdrahr, “but it would be easier to move the Himalayas than to change the Army.”
    The Shah was waving goodbye to the departing troops.
“Dibo, Takaru, dibo.
”

8

    P AUL BREAKFASTED ALONE , while Anita and Finnerty, in widely separated beds, slept late after a busy evening.
    He had difficulty starting his Plymouth and finally realizedthat it was out of gas. There had been almost a half-tank the afternoon before. Finnerty, then, had gone for a long ride in it after they’d left him alone on the bed and gone to the Country Club without him.
    Paul rummaged about the glove compartment for a siphon hose, and found it. He paused, sensing that something was missing. He stuck his hand into the glove compartment again and felt around inside. The old pistol was gone. He looked on the floor