Our Friends From Frolix 8 by Philip K Dick Read Free Book Online Page A

sense,’ Nick said.
    ‘Why doesn’t it make any sense?’
    ‘Because if we had his squib keys he wouldn’t have been able to fly back here.’
    ‘Okay, we say it’s a second set of keys he asked us to order for him, for his wife.’
    At the fiftieth floor, Zeta stepped from the escalator; they made their way down a carpeted hall, seeing no one. Zeta paused all at once, briefly looked around, then knocked on a door.
    The door opened. A girl stood confronting them, a small, black-haired girl, pretty in an odd, tough way; she had a pug nose, sensual lips, elegantly formed cheekbones. About her hung the glow of feminine magic; Nick caught it right away. Her smile, he thought, it lights up: it illuminates her whole face, bringing it to life.
    Zeta did not seem pleased to see her. ‘Where’s Denny?’ he asked in a low but distinct voice.
    ‘Come in.’ She held the door aside. ‘He’s on his way.’
    Looking uneasy, Zeta entered, motioning Nick to follow him. He did not introduce either of them to the other; instead he strode through the living room, into the bed-roomette, then into the kitchen area of the living room, prowling like an animal. ‘Are you clean here?’ he demanded suddenly.
    ‘Yes,’ the girl said. She looked up into Nick’s face, a jump of about a foot. ‘I’ve never seen you before.’
    ‘You’re not clean,’ Zeta said; he stood reaching down into the waste tube; he came up abruptly with a package which had been taped to the inside of the tube. ‘You kids are nuts.’
    ‘I didn’t know it was there,’ the girl said in a sharp, hard voice. ‘Anyhow, it was fixed so that if a track busted down the door, we could flick it down the tube just by touching it, and there’d be no evidence.’
    ‘They plug the tube,’ Zeta said. ‘Catch it down around the second floor, before it hits the furnaces.’
    ‘My name’s Charley,’ the girl said to Nick.
    ‘A girl named Charley?’ he asked.
    ‘Charlotte.’ She held out her hand; they shook. ‘You know, I think I know who you are. You’re Zeta’s tire regroover.’
    ‘Yes,’ he said.
    ‘And you want a genuine booklet? Are you paying for it or is Zeta? Because Denny isn’t going to lay out any more credit; he’ll want pops.’
    ‘I’m paying for it,’ Zeta said. ‘This time, anyhow.’
    ‘That’s how they always do it,’ Charley said. ‘The first booklet is free; the next is five pops; the next is ten; the—’
    The apartment door opened. Everyone ceased moving, ceased breathing.
    A pretty boy stood there, bulky, well-dressed, with tangled blond hair, large eyes, an expression of intensity constricting his face so that in spite of his prettiness he had an ugly, cruel intensity to him. He surveyed Zeta briefly, then Nick, for several silent moments. He then shut the door after him, Ferok-bar locked it, walked across the room to the window, peered out, stood chewing on the edge of his thumbnail, radiating, all about him, ominous vibrations, as if something awful, something which would destroy everything, was about to happen… as if, Nick thought, he’s going to do it. He’s going to beat up all of us himself. The boy emanated an aura of strength, but it was a sick strength; it was overripe, as were his enlarged eyes and tangled hair. A Dionysus from the gutters of the city, Nick thought. So this was the dealer. This is the person from whom we get authentic tracts.
    ‘I saw your squib on the roof,’ the boy said to Zeta, as if announcing the discovery of some evil act. ‘Who’s this?’ he asked, inclining his head toward Nick.
    ‘Someone — who I know — who wants to buy,’ Zeta said.
    ‘Oh, really?’ The boy, Denny, walked toward Nick, studied him at closer range. Studying his clothes, his face; judging me, Nick realized. As if some eerie kind of combat is involved, the nature of which was, to him, totally unclear.
    All at once, Denny’s protruding, large eyes moved rapidly, he stared at the couchette, at the