Read Online The Eye of the Sibyl and Other Classic Strories by Philip K. Dick - Free Book Online Page A

embittered him; it didn’t seem fair that one of the two competing cultures would have to suffer, since the needs of both were legitimate.
    Mars itself had been the locus of contention. Both cultures needed it as a colony on which to deposit surplus populations. Thank God Terra had managed to gain tactical mastery during the last year of the war… hence it was Terrans such as himself, and not Proxmen, patching up Mars.
    “By the way,” Dr. DeWinter said. “I happen to know of your intentions regarding your fellow reconstruct engineers.”
    Milt Biskle glanced up swiftly.
    “As a matter of fact,” Dr. DeWinter said, “we know they’re at this moment gathering in Red Area to hear your account.” Opening his desk drawer he got out a yo-yo, stood up and began to operate it expertly doing walking the dog.
    “Your panic-stricken speech to the effect that something is wrong, although you can’t seem to say just what it might be.”
    Watching the yo-yo Biskle said, “That’s a toy popular in the Prox system. At least so I read in a homeopape article, once.”
    “Hmm. I understood it originated in the Philippines.” Engrossed, Dr. DeWinter now did around the world. He did it well. “I’m taking the liberty of sending a disposition to the reconstruct engineers’ gathering, testifying to your mental condition. It will be read aloud—sorry to say.”
    “I still intend to address the gathering,” Biskle said.
    “Well, then there’s a compromise that occurs to me. Greet your little family when it arrives here on Mars and then we’ll arrange a trip to Terra for you. At our expense. And in exchange you’ll agree not to address the gathering of reconstruct engineers or burden them in any way with your nebulous forebodings.” DeWinter eyed him keenly. “After all, this is a critical moment. The first emigrants are arriving. We don’t want trouble; we don’t want to make anyone uneasy.”
    “Would you do me a favor?” Biskle asked. “Show me that you’ve got a wig on. And that your teeth are false. Just so I can be sure that you’re a Terran.”
    Dr. DeWinter tilted his wig and plucked out his set of false teeth.
    “I’ll take the offer,” Milt Biskle said. “If you’ll agree to make certain that my wife obtains the parcel of land I set aside for her.”
    Nodding, DeWinter tossed him a small white envelope. “Here’s your ticket. Round trip, of course, since you’ll be coming back.”
    I hope so, Biskle thought as he picked up the ticket. But it depends on what I see on Terra. Or rather on what they let me see.
    He had a feeling they’d let him see very little. In fact as little as Proxmanly possible.
     
    When his ship reached Terra a smartly uniformed guide waited for him. “Mr. Biskle?” Trim and attractive and exceedingly young she stepped forward alertly. “I’m Mary Ableseth, your Tourplan companion. I’ll show you around the planet during your brief stay here.” She smiled brightly and very professionally. He was taken aback. “I’ll be with you constantly, night and day.”
    “Night, too?” he managed to say.
    “Yes, Mr. Biskle. That’s my job. We expect you to be disoriented due to your years of labor on Mars… labor we of Terra applaud and honor, as is right.” She fell in beside him, steering him toward a parked ‘copter. “Where would you like to go first? New York City? Broadway? To the night clubs and theaters and restaurants…”
    “No, to Central Park. To sit on a bench.”
    “But there is no more Central Park, Mr. Biskle. It was turned into a parking lot for government employees while you were on Mars.”
    “I see,” Milt Biskle said. “Well, then Portsmouth Square in San Francisco will do.” He opened the door of the ‘copter.
    “That, too, has become a parking lot,” Miss Ableseth said, with a sad shake of her long, luminous red hair. “We’re so darn over-populated. Try again, Mr. Biskle; there are a few parks left, one in Kansas, I believe, and two in