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

“But you stay home and dust the mantel; I’ll take care of the
job-getting.” He in dicated his smooth-shaven chin and clean shirt
“I’m already two steps on my
way.”
    “But,” Marsha appealed,
“it’s my fault you’re out of work.”
    “Maybe
we won’t have to work any more,” Laws re flected, with ironic emphasis. “Maybe all we have to do now is open our mouths and wait for the manna to
drift down.”
    “I
thought you tried that,” Hamilton said.
    “I tried it, yes. And I got no
results. But some people do get results. We’re going to have to work out
the dynamics of this thing. This world, or whatever it is, has its own laws. Different laws from the ones we
were familiar with. We’ve had a few already. Charms function. That
implies that the whole structure of blessing now works.” Laws added, “And maybe damnation.”
    “Salvation,”
Marsha murmured, her brown eyes wide. “Good
Lord, do you suppose there’s really a Heaven?”
    “Absolutely,” Hamilton
agreed. He returned to the bedroom; a moment later he emerged tying his
necktie. “But that comes later. Right
now I’m driving up the pe ninsula. We have exactly fifty dollars left in
the bank, and I’m not going to starve to death trying to make this prayer-business function.”

    * * * * *

    From the parking lot at the missile
plant, Hamilton picked up his Ford business coupe . It
was still parked in the slot
reading: Reserved for John W. Hamilton.
    Heading up El Camino Real, he left
the town of Belmont Half an hour later he was entering South San Francisco. The clock in front of the South San
Francisco branch of the Bank of America read eleven-thirty as he parked in the sedate gravel field beside the
Cadillacs and Chryslers belonging to the staff of EDA.
    The Electronics Development Agency
buildings lay to his right; white blocks of
cement set against the hills of the sprawling industrial city. Once, years
ago, when he had done his first published
paper in advanced elec tronics, EDA had tried to hire him away from
California Maintenance. Guy Tillingford, one of the leading statisticians of
the country, headed the corporation; a brilliant and original man, he had been
in addition, a close friend of Hamilton’s
father.
    This
was the place to find a job—if he found one at all. And, most important,
EDA was not currently engaged in military
research. Doctor Tillingford, part of the group that had made up the Institute
of Advanced Studies at Princeton (before that group had been officially disbanded),
was more concerned with general scientific knowledge. From EDA came some of the
most radical computers, the great
electronic brains used in industries and universities all over the
Western world.
    “Yes,
Mr. Hamilton,” the efficient little secretary said, crisply examining his
sheaf of papers. “Ill tell the doctor you’re here … I’m sure
he’ll be glad to see you.”
    Tautly,
Hamilton paced the lounge, rubbing his hands together and breathing a
silent prayer. The prayer came easily; at this particular moment he didn’t have
to force it. Fifty dollars in the bank wasn’t going to last the Hamilton family
very long … even in this world of miracles
and falling locusts.
    “Jack, my boy,” a deep
voice boomed. Doctor Guy Tillingford appeared at the doorway of his office,
aged face beaming, hand extended. “By golly, I’m glad to see you. How long has it been? Ten years?”
    “Darn near,” Hamilton
admitted, as they heartily grasped hands. “You’re looking well,
Doctor.”
    Around
the office stood consultant engineers and tech nicians; bright young men
with crew cuts, bow ties, alert expressions on their smooth faces. Ignoring
them, Doctor Tillingford led Hamilton through a series of wood-paneled doors
into a private chamber.
    “We can talk here,” he
confided, throwing himself down in a black leather easy chair. I have this
fixed up —a sort of personal retreat, where I can take time off to meditate and
get my second