Selected Stories of Philip K. Dick by Philip K. Dick Read Free Book Online

Jennings paused, looking around him. Across the street was a taxi stand, a couple of cabbies sitting in their cabs, smoking and reading the newspaper. It was worth a try, at least. There wasn't much else to do. Rethrick would be something else, on the surface. If it posed as a Government project no one would ask any questions. They were all too accustomed to Government projects working without explanation, in secrecy.
    He went over to the first cab. “Mister,” he said, “can you tell me something?”
    The cabbie looked up. “What do you want?”
    “They tell me there's work to be had, out at the Government station. Is that right?”
    The cabbie studied him. He nodded.
    “What kind of work is it?”
    “I don't know.”
    “Where do they do the hiring?”
    “I don't know.” The cabbie lifted his paper.
    “Thanks.” Jennings turned away.
    “They don't do any hiring. Maybe once in a long while. They don't take many on. You better go someplace else if you're looking for work.”
    “All right.”
    The other cabbie leaned out of his cab. “They use only a few day laborers, buddy. That's all. And they're very choosy. They don't hardly let anybody in. Some kind of war work.”
    Jennings pricked up his ears. “Secret?”
    “They come into town and pick up a load of construction workers. Maybe a truck full. That's all. They're real careful who they pick.”
    Jennings walked back toward the cabbie. “That right?”
    “It's a big place. Steel wall. Charged. Guards. Work going on day and night. But nobody gets in. Set up on top of a hill, out the old Henderson Road. About two miles and a half.” The cabbie poked at his shoulder. “You can't get in unless you're identified. They identify their laborers, after they pick them out. You know.”
    Jennings stared at him. The cabbie was tracing a line on his shoulder. Suddenly Jennings understood. A flood of relief rushed over him.
    “Sure,” he said. “I understand what you mean. At least, I think so.” He reached into his pocket, bringing out the four trinkets. Carefully, he unfolded the strip of green cloth, holding it up. “Like this?”
    The cabbies stared at the cloth. “That's right,” one of them said slowly, staring at the cloth. “Where did you get it?”
    Jennings laughed. “A friend.” He put the cloth back in his pocket. “A friend gave it to me.”
    He went off, toward the Intercity field. He had plenty to do, now that the first step was over. Rethrick was here, all right. And apparently the trinkets were going to see him through. One for every crisis. A pocketful of miracles, from someone who knew the future!
    But the next step couldn't be done alone. He needed help. Somebody else was needed for this part. But who? He pondered, entering the Intercity waiting room. There was only one person he could possibly go to. It was a long chance, but he had to take it. He couldn't work alone, here on out. If the Rethrick plant was here then Kelly would be too …
    The street was dark. At the corner a lamppost cast a fitful beam. A few cruisers moved by.
    From the apartment building entrance a slim shape came, a young woman in a coat, a purse in her hand. Jennings watched as she passed under the streetlamp. Kelly McVane was going someplace, probably to a party. Smartly dressed, high heels tap-tapping on the pavement, a little coat and hat.
    He stepped out behind her. “Kelly.”
    She turned quickly, her mouth open. “Oh!”
    Jennings took her arm.“Don't worry. It's just me. Where are you going, all dressed up?”
    “No place.” She blinked. “My golly, you scared me. What is it? What's going on?”
    “Nothing. Can you spare a few minutes? I want to talk to you.”
    Kelly nodded. “I guess so.” She looked around. “Where'll we go?”
    “Where's a place we can talk? I don't want anyone to overhear us.”
    “Can't we just walk along?”
    “No. The Police.”
    “The Police?”
    “They're looking for me.”
    “For you? But why?”
    “Let's not stand