The Book of Philip K Dick (1973) by Philip K. Dick Page B

growing things.
    Taylor removed his helmet and took a deep breath.
    “I haven’t smelled that smell for a long tune,” he said.
    “Listen,” Franks said, his voice low and hard. “We must get back down at once. There’s a lot to get started on. All this can be turned to our advantage.”
    “What do you mean?” Moss asked.
    “It’s a certainty that the Soviets have been tricked, too, the same as us. But we have found out. That gives us an edge over them.”
    “I see.” Moss nodded. “We know, but they don’t. Their Surface Council has sold out, the same as ours. It works against them the same way. But if we could—”
    “With a hundred top-level men, we could take over again, restore things as they should be! It would be easy!”
    Moss touched him on the arm. An A-class leady was coming from the building toward them.
    “We’ve seen enough,” Franks said, raising his voice. “All this is very serious. It must be reported below and a study made to determine our policy.”
    The leady said nothing.
    Franks waved to the soldiers. “Let’s go.” He started toward the warehouse.
    Most of the soldiers had removed their helmets. Some of them had taken their lead suits off, too, and were relaxing comfortably in their cotton uniforms. They stared around them, down the hillside at the trees and bushes, the vast expanse of green, the mountains and the sky.
    “Look at the sun,” one of them murmured.
    “It sure is bright as hell,” another said.
    “We’re going back down,” Franks said. “Fall in by twos and follow us.”
    Reluctantly, the soldiers regrouped. The leadies watched without emotion as the men marched slowly back toward the warehouse. Franks and Moss and Taylor led them across the ground, glancing alertly at the leadies as they walked.
    They entered the warehouse. D-class leadies were loading material and weapons on surface carts. Cranes and derricks were working busily everywhere. The work was done with efficiency, but without hurry or excitement.
    The men stopped, watching. Leadies operating the little carts moved past them, signaling silently to each other. Guns and parts were being hoisted by magnetic cranes and lowered gently onto waiting carts. “Come on,” Franks said.
    He turned toward the lip of the Tube. A row of D-class leadies was standing in front of it, immobile and silent. Franks stopped, moving back. He looked around. An A-class leady was coming toward him.
    “Tell them to get out of the way,” Franks said. He touched his gun. “You had better move them.”
    Time passed, an endless moment, without measure. The men stood, nervous and alert, watching the row of leadies in front of them.
    “As you wish,” the A-class leady said. It signaled and the D-class leadies moved into life. They stepped slowly aside.
    Moss breathed a sigh of relief.
    “I’m glad that’s over,” he said to Franks. “Look at them all. Why don’t they try to stop us? They must know what we’re going to do.”
    Franks laughed. “Stop us? You saw what happened when they tried to stop us before. They can’t; they’re only machines. We built them so they can’t lay hands on us, and they know that.”
    His voice trailed off.
    The men stared at the Tube entrance. Around them the leadies watched, silent and impassive, their metal faces expressionless.
    For a long time the men stood without moving. At last Taylor turned away.
    “Good God,” he said. He was numb, without feeling of any kind.
    The Tube was gone. It was sealed shut, fused over. Only a dull surface of cooling metal greeted them.
    The Tube had been closed.
    Franks turned, his face pale and vacant.
    The A-class leady shifted. “As you can see, the Tube has been shut. We were prepared for this. As soon as all of you were on the surface, the order was given. If you had gone back when we asked you, you would now be safely down below. We had to work quickly because it was such an immense operation.”
    “But why?” Moss demanded