Second Variety and Other Stories by Philip K. Dick

underground?"
    "Yes. In a storage locker."
    "How do we find it? Is it marked? Is there a code marker to identify it?"
    Hendricks concentrated. "No. No markings. No code symbol."
    "What, then?"
    "A sign."
    "What sort of sign?"
    Hendricks did not answer. In the flickering light his eyes were glazed, two sightless orbs. Tasso's
fingers dug into his arm.
    "What sort of sign? What is it?"
    "I can't think. Let me rest."
    "All right." She let go and stood up. Hendricks lay back against the ground, his eyes closed.
Tasso walked away from him, her hands in her pockets. She kicked a rock out of her way and stood
staring up at the sky. The night blackness was already beginning to fade into gray. Morning was coming.
    Tasso gripped her pistol and walked around the fire in a circle, back and forth. On the ground
Major Hendricks lay, his eyes closed, unmoving. The grayness rose in the sky, higher and higher. The
landscape became visible, fields of ash stretching out in all directions. Ash and ruins of buildings, a wall
here and there, heaps of concrete, the naked trunk of a tree.
    The air was cold and sharp. Somewhere a long way off a bird made a few bleak sounds.
    Hendricks stirred. He opened his eyes. "Is it dawn? Already?"
    "Yes."
    Hendricks sat up a little. "You wanted to know something. You were asking me."
    "Do you remember now?"
    "Yes."
    "What is it?" She tensed. "What?" she repeated sharply.
    "A well. A ruined well. It's in a storage locker under a well."
    "A well." Tasso relaxed. "Then we'll find a well." She looked at her watch. "We have about an
hour, Major. Do you think we can find it in an hour?"
    "Give me a hand up," Hendricks said.
    Tasso put her pistol away and helped him to his feet.
    "This is going to be difficult."
    "Yes it is." Hendricks set his lips tightly. "I don't think we're going to go very far."
    They began to walk. The early sun cast a little warmth down on them. The land was flat and
barren, stretching out gray and lifeless as far as they could see. A few birds sailed silently, far above
them, circling slowly. "See anything?" Hendricks said. "Any claws?"
    "No. Not yet."
    They passed through some ruins, upright concrete and bricks. A cement foundation. Rats scuttled
away. Tasso jumped back warily.
    "This used to be a town," Hendricks said. "A village. Provincial village. This was all grape
country, once. Where we are now."
    "This used to be a town," Hendricks said. "A village. Provincial village. This was all grape
country, once. Where we are now."
    A pit yawned, an open basement. Ragged ends of pipes jutted up, twisted and bent. They
passed part of a house, a bathtub turned on its side. A broken chair. A few spoons and bits of china
dishes. In the center of the street the ground had sunk away. The depression was filled with weeds and
debris and bones.
    "Over here," Hendricks murmured.
    "This way?"
    "To the right."
    They passed the remains of a heavy-duty tank. Hendricks' belt counter clicked ominously. The
tank had been radiation blasted. A few feet from the tank a mummified body lay sprawled out, mouth
open. Beyond the road was a flat field. Stones and weeds, and bits of broken glass. "There," Hendricks
said.
    A stone well jutted up, sagging and broken. A few boards lay across it. Most of the well had
sunk into rubble. Hendricks walked unsteadily toward it, Tasso beside him.
    "Are you certain about this?" Tasso said. "This doesn't look like anything."
    "I'm sure." Hendricks sat down at the edge of the well, his teeth locked. His breath came quickly.
He wiped perspiration from his face. "This was arranged so the senior command officer could get away.
If anything happened. If the bunker fell."
    "That was you?"
    "Yes."
    "Where is the ship? Is it here?"
    "We're standing on it." Hendricks ran his hands over the surface of the well stones. "The eye-lock
responds to me, not to anybody else. It's my ship. Or it was supposed to be." There was a sharp click.
Presently they heard a low grating sound