Eye in the Sky (1957) by Philip K. Dick Read Free Book Online

hesitation, he laid the
cold bit of metal against it.
    “There it goes,” Laws
said.
    The ugly rawness of the wound faded.
As Hamilton watched, the meaty red waned to a dull pink. An orange sheen crept over it; the gash shriveled, dried,
and closed. Only a narrow line, white and indistinct, remained. And the
throbbing pain was gone.
    “That’s it,” Laws said,
reaching for the charm.
    “Did it work before?”
    “Never. Just a lot of hot
air.” Laws pocketed it. “I’m going to try leaving a few hairs in
water overnight Worms in the morning, of course. Want to know how to cure
diabetes? Half a ground-up toad mixed with milk of a virgin, wrapped around the
neck in an old flannel that’s been dipped in pond water.”
    “You mean all that junk—”
    “It’s going to work. Like the
rustics have been saying. Up to now, they’ve been wrong. But now it’s us who’re wrong.”
    Marsha
appeared at the bedroom doorway in her robe, hair tumbled about her
face, eyes half-shut with sleep. “Oh,” she said, startled, when she
made out Laws. “It’s you. How are
you?”
    “I’m
all right, thanks,” Laws answered.
    Rubbing
her eyes, Marsha turned quickly to her hus band. “How did you
sleep?”
    “I slept.” Something in
her voice, a sharp urgency, made him ask:
“Why?”
    “Did
you dream?”
    Hamilton
reflected. He had tossed, turned, experienced vague phantasmagoria. But
nothing he could put his finger on. “No,” he admitted.
    A strange expression had appeared on
Laws’ sharp face. “You dreamed, Mrs. Hamilton? What did you dream?”
    “The craziest thing. Not a
dream, exactly. I mean, nothing happened.
It just—was.”
    “A
place?”
    “Yes,
a place. And us.”
    “All
of us?” Laws asked intently. “All eight?”
    “Yes.” She nodded eagerly.
“Lying down, where we fell. Down in the Bevatron. All of us, just
stretched out there. Unconscious. And nothing happening. No time. No change.”
    “Off
in the corner,” Laws said, “is something moving? Some medical workers, maybe?”
    “Yes,”
Marsha repeated. “But not moving. Just hanging on some land of ladder. Frozen there.”
    “They’re moving,” Laws
said. “I dreamed it, too. At first I thought they weren’t moving. But they
are. Very slowly.”
    There
was an uneasy silence.
    Searching
his mind again, Hamilton said slowly, “Now that you talk about it …” He shrugged. “It’s the trau matic memory. The moment of shock. It’s cut right
into our brains; well never be able to shake it.”
    “But,” Marsha said
tensely, “ it’s still going on. We’re still there.”
    “There?
Lying in the Bevatron?”
    She
nodded anxiously. “I feel it. I believe it.”
    Noting the alarm in her voice,
Hamilton changed the subject. “Surprise,” he told her, displaying his
newly healed arm. “Bill just sat back and passed a miracle.”
    “Not
me,” Laws said emphatically, his dark eyes hard; “I wouldn’t be caught dead passing a miracle.”
    Embarrassed, Hamilton stood rubbing
his arm. It was your charm that did it.”
    Laws
reexamined his metal good luck charm. “Maybe we’ve sunk down to the real
reality. Maybe this stuff has been there all the time, under the
surface.”
    Marsha
came slowly toward the two men. “We’re dead, aren’t we?” she said huskily.
    “Apparently not,” Hamilton
answered. “We’re still in Belmont, California. But not the same Belmont There’ve been a few changes here and there. A few
ad ditions. There’s Somebody hanging
around.”
    “What
now?” Laws inquired.
    “Don’t ask me,” Hamilton
said. I didn’t get us here. Obviously, the accident at the Bevatron produced
it. Whatever it is.”
    “I
can tell you what comes next,” Marsha said calmly.
    “What?”
    “I’m going out and get a
job.”
    Hamilton raised his eyebrows.
“What kind of a job?”
    “Any kind. Typing, working in a
store, switchboard operator. So we can keep on eating … remember?”
    “I
remember,” Hamilton said.