Selected Stories of Philip K. Dick by Philip K. Dick

the way Maine people are. It's part of the family. The Company belongs to the family. It's ours.”
    “Come in with us,” Rethrick said. “As a mechanic. I'm sorry, but that's our limited outlook showing through. Maybe it's narrow, but we've always done things this way.”
    Jennings said nothing. He walked slowly across the office, his hands in his pockets. After a time he raised the blind and stared out at the street, far below.
    Down below, like a tiny black bug, a Security cruiser moved along, drifting silently with the traffic that flowed up and down the street. It joined a second cruiser, already parked. Four SP men were standing by it in their green uniforms, and even as he watched some more could be seen coming from across the street. He let the blind down.
    “It's a hard decision to make,” he said.
    “If you go out there they'll get you,” Rethrick said. “They're out there all the time. You haven't got a chance.”
    “Please—” Kelly said, looking up at him.
    Suddenly Jennings smiled. “So you won't tell me where the papers are. Where you put them.”
    Kelly shook her head.
    “Wait.” Jennings reached into his pocket. He brought out a small piece of paper. He unfolded it slowly, scanning it.“By any chance did you deposit it with the Dunne National Bank, about three o'clock yesterday afternoon? For safekeeping in their storage vaults?”
    Kelly gasped. She grabbed her handbag, unsnapping it. Jennings put the slip of paper, the parcel receipt, back in his pocket. “So he saw even that,” he murmured. “The last of the trinkets. I wondered what it was for.”
    Kelly groped frantically in her purse, her face wild. She brought out a slip of paper, waving it.
    “You're wrong! Here it is! It's still here.” She relaxed a little. “I don't know what you have, but this is—”
    In the air above them something moved. A dark space formed, a circle. The space stirred. Kelly and Rethrick stared up, frozen.
    From the dark circle a claw appeared, a metal claw, joined to a shimmering rod. The claw dropped, swinging in a wide arc. The claw swept the paper from Kelly's fingers. It hesitated for a second. Then it drew itself up again, disappearing with the paper, into the circle of black. Then, silently, the claw and the rod and the circle blinked out. There was nothing. Nothing at all.
    “Where—where did it go?” Kelly whispered. “The paper. What was that?”
    Jennings patted his pocket. “It's safe. It's safe, right here. I wondered when he would show up. I was beginning to worry.”
    Rethrick and his daughter stood, shocked into silence.
    “Don't look so unhappy,” Jennings said. He folded his arms. “The paper's safe—and the Company's safe. When the time comes it'll be there, strong and very glad to help out the revolution. We'll see to that, all of us, you, me, and your daughter.”
    He glanced at Kelly, his eyes twinkling. “All three of us. And maybe by that time there'll be even more members to the family!”

SECOND VARIETY
    The Russian soldier made his way nervously up the rugged side of the hill, holding his gun ready. He glanced around him, licking his dry lips, his face set. From time to time he reached up a gloved hand and wiped perspiration from his neck, pushing down his coat collar.
    Eric turned to Corporal Leone. “Want him? Or can I have him?” He adjusted the view sight so the Russian's features squarely filled the glass, the lines cutting across his hard, somber features.
    Leone considered. The Russian was close, moving rapidly, almost running. “Don't fire. Wait.” Leone tensed. “I don't think we're needed.”
    The Russian increased his pace, kicking ash and piles of debris out of his way. He reached the top of the hill and stopped, panting, staring around him. The sky was overcast, with drifting clouds of gray particles. Bare trunks of trees jutted up occasionally; the ground was level and bare, rubble-strewn, with the ruins of buildings standing here and there like