Counter-Clock World by Philip K. Dick Read Free Book Online Page A

Gore.
    “Well,” Gore said, leaning back and picking his teeth, meanwhile eyeing Tinbane critically, “did you learn a lot about Ray Roberts?”
    “Nothing that changes my mind. He’s a fanatic; he’d do anything to keep his power; and he’s potentially a killer.” He was thinking about the Anarch Peak, but about that he said nothing; that was strictly between him and Lotta Hermes . . . or so he viewed it. In any case it was a complex problem. He would play it by ear.
    Gore said, “A modern Malcolm X. Remember reading about him? He preached violence; got violence in return. Like the Bible says.” He continued to scrutinize Tinbane. “Want my theory? I checked into the date that Anarch Peak died, and he’s about due to be reborn. I think Ray Roberts is here because of that. Peak’s rebirth would end Roberts’ political career. I think he’d cheerfully kill Peak—if he could find him in time. If he waits—” Gore made a slicing motion with the side of his hand. “Too late. Once Peak is reestablished he’ll stay that way; he was a canny bastard himself, but without the violence. The critical time will be the week or ten days—whatever it is—between the time Peak is dug up and the time he leaves the hospital. Peak was very ill, the last months of his life; toxemia, I understand. He’ll have to lie in a hospital bed, waiting for that to go away, before he can effectively regain control of Udi.”
    “Would it be to Peak’s advantage,” Tinbane said, “if a police team could locate him?”
    “Oh yes;
hell
yes. We could protect him, if we dig him up. But if one of those private vitariums gets hold of him—they can’t shield him from assassination; they’re just not equipped for it. For instance, they use regular city hospitals . . . we of course have our own. This, as you know, isn’t the first time this has cropped up, somebody having a vested interest in an old-born individual staying dead. This is simply more public, on a bigger scale.”
    Tinbane said thoughtfully, “But on the other hand, owning Anarch Peak, having him to sell, would be a financial asset to a vitarium. Peddled properly, to the right party, he could bring in a medium-sized fortune.” He was thinking what a sale like that would mean to a concern as small as the Flask of Hermes Vitarium; it could stabilize them financially for virtually an indefinite period. Confiscation of Peak by the police would be a disaster to Sebastian Hermes . . . this was, after all, the first, the one, the really great break for Sebastian. In the entire life span of his flea-bag enterprise.
    Can I take that away from him? Tinbane asked himself. God, what a thing to do, to take cold, professional advantage of Lotta’s blurting it out there in Appleford’s office.
    Of course Appleford might do it, might sell the information to Ray Roberts—at a good price. But he doubted it; Appleford did not strike him as that sort of man.
    On the other hand, for the Anarch’s own good—
    But if the police seized the Anarch, Sebastian would know how they found out; he would track it, with no difficulty, to Lotta. I must consider that, he realized, in view of any plans I might have in her direction. As regards my relationship—or potential relationship—to her.
    Just who am I trying to aid? he asked himself. Sebastian? Or Lotta? Or—myself?
    I can blackmail her, he found himself thinking, and was horrified; yet the thought had been clearly there. Simply tell her, when I can manage to get her off alone for a few minutes, that—she has a choice. She can be—
    Hell, he thought. That’s terrible! Blackmailing her into becoming my mistress; what kind of person am I?
    On the other hand, in the final analysis it didn’t matter what you thought; it was what you did.
    What I ought to do, he decided, is talk to some clergyman about this;
somebody’s
got to know how to deal with difficult moral matters.
    Father Faine, he thought. I could talk to him.
    As soon as he left