author - "Philip K. Dick"
Description Philip K. Dick built an enduring literary reputation writing powerful science fiction in the pulp magazines of the 50s and beyond. This collection of several of his short works, arranged in chronological order and all published in now-defunct science fiction pulp magazines, is a slice from his early career. Many of these stories explore the themes of war and whether humanity is intrinsically violent and conflict-torn. Each of them is a fascinating jewel of speculative fiction.
The reference was clearly to a nonhuman species of incredible properties, not indigenous to Earth. A species, I hasten to point out, customarily masquerading as ordinary human beings. Their disguise, however, became transparent in the face of the following observations by the author. It was at once obvious the author knew everything. Knew everything--and was taking it in his stride. The line (and I tremble remembering it even now) read: ... his eyes slowly roved about the room. Vague chills
or a moment he glanced through them. Then he was on his feet again. He crossed the room to a wide rack against the wall. His heart began to beat heavily.Newspapers--weeks on end. He took a roll of them over to the table and began to scan them quickly. The print was odd, the letters strange. Some of the words were unfamiliar. He set the papers aside and searched farther. At last he found what he wanted. He carried the Cherrywood Gazette to the table and opened it to the first page. He found what
. He wore a faded blue sweater, ragged with dirt, and short pants. His hair was long and matted. Brown hair. It hung over his face and around his ears. He held something in his arms."What's that you have?" Hendricks said sharply. The boy held it out. It was a toy, a bear. A teddy bear. The boy's eyes were large, but without expression. Hendricks relaxed. "I don't want it. Keep it." The boy hugged the bear again. "Where do you live?" Hendricks said. "In
nd time it's happened that we know of. There may be others.""The second time?" "The previous interview was when we noticed it. The leady was not hot. It was cold, too, like this one." Moss took back the metal plate from the leady's hands. He pressed the surface carefully and returned it to the stiff, unprotesting fingers. "We shorted it out with this, so we could get close enough for a thorough check. It'll come back on in a second now. We had better get behind the
, the three of you." He looked around the table."We still have an hour or so of travel. Sometimes it gets dull, this Mars-Terra run. Nothing to see, nothing to do but sit and drink in the lounge." He raised his eyes slowly. "Any chance you'd like to spin a story to keep us awake?" Jan and Mara looked at Erickson. "Go on," Jan said. "He knows who we are. Tell him the rest of the story." "You might as well," Mara said. Jan let out a sigh
ate. Doris stared at it, her hand to her mouth. "My God, what is it?" She looked up at him, bright-eyed."Well, open it." Doris tore the ribbon and paper from the square package with her sharp nails, her bosom rising and falling. Larry stood watching her as she lifted the lid. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall. "A cuckoo clock!" Doris cried. "A real old cuckoo clock like my mother had." She turned the clock over and over. "Just like my
Description Philip K. Dick built an enduring literary reputation writing powerful science fiction in the pulp magazines of the 50s and beyond. This collection of several of his short works, arranged in chronological order and all published in now-defunct science fiction pulp magazines, is a slice from his early career. Many of these stories explore the themes of war and whether humanity is intrinsically violent and conflict-torn. Each of them is a fascinating jewel of speculative fiction.
The reference was clearly to a nonhuman species of incredible properties, not indigenous to Earth. A species, I hasten to point out, customarily masquerading as ordinary human beings. Their disguise, however, became transparent in the face of the following observations by the author. It was at once obvious the author knew everything. Knew everything--and was taking it in his stride. The line (and I tremble remembering it even now) read: ... his eyes slowly roved about the room. Vague chills
or a moment he glanced through them. Then he was on his feet again. He crossed the room to a wide rack against the wall. His heart began to beat heavily.Newspapers--weeks on end. He took a roll of them over to the table and began to scan them quickly. The print was odd, the letters strange. Some of the words were unfamiliar. He set the papers aside and searched farther. At last he found what he wanted. He carried the Cherrywood Gazette to the table and opened it to the first page. He found what
. He wore a faded blue sweater, ragged with dirt, and short pants. His hair was long and matted. Brown hair. It hung over his face and around his ears. He held something in his arms."What's that you have?" Hendricks said sharply. The boy held it out. It was a toy, a bear. A teddy bear. The boy's eyes were large, but without expression. Hendricks relaxed. "I don't want it. Keep it." The boy hugged the bear again. "Where do you live?" Hendricks said. "In
nd time it's happened that we know of. There may be others.""The second time?" "The previous interview was when we noticed it. The leady was not hot. It was cold, too, like this one." Moss took back the metal plate from the leady's hands. He pressed the surface carefully and returned it to the stiff, unprotesting fingers. "We shorted it out with this, so we could get close enough for a thorough check. It'll come back on in a second now. We had better get behind the
, the three of you." He looked around the table."We still have an hour or so of travel. Sometimes it gets dull, this Mars-Terra run. Nothing to see, nothing to do but sit and drink in the lounge." He raised his eyes slowly. "Any chance you'd like to spin a story to keep us awake?" Jan and Mara looked at Erickson. "Go on," Jan said. "He knows who we are. Tell him the rest of the story." "You might as well," Mara said. Jan let out a sigh
ate. Doris stared at it, her hand to her mouth. "My God, what is it?" She looked up at him, bright-eyed."Well, open it." Doris tore the ribbon and paper from the square package with her sharp nails, her bosom rising and falling. Larry stood watching her as she lifted the lid. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall. "A cuckoo clock!" Doris cried. "A real old cuckoo clock like my mother had." She turned the clock over and over. "Just like my