Philip Dick - The Philip K Dick Reader

"I know all about the war," Unger muttered. "Give me time and I'll have it straight. Just give me time. I'm trying as best I can."

The old man was deteriorating rapidly. His wrinkled face was an unhealthy gray. Like drying putty, his flesh clung to his brittle, yellowed bones. His breath rattled in his throat. It was obvious to everyone present that David Unger was going to die -- and soon.

"If he croaks before he remembers," Gannet said softly to Lieutenant West, "I'll --"

"What's that?" Unger asked sharply. His one good eye was suddenly keen and wary. "I can't hear so good."

"Just fill in the missing elements,"Gannet said wearily. He jerked his head. "Get him over to the map where he can see the setup. Maybe that'll help."

The old man was yanked to his feet and propelled to the table. Technicians and brass hats closed in around him and the dim-eyed stumbling figure was lost from sight.

"He won't last long," Patterson said savagely. "If you don't let him rest his heart's going to give out."

"We must have the information," Gannet retorted. He eyed Patterson. "Where's the other doctor? LeMarr, I think he's called."

Patterson glanced briefly around. "I don't see him. He probably couldn't stand it."

"LeMarr never came," Gannet said, without emotion. "I wonder if we should have somebody round him up." He indicated Evelyn Cutter, who had just arrived, white-faced, her black eyes wide, breathing quickly. "She suggests --"

"It doesn't matter now," Evelyn said frigidly. She shot a quick, urgent glance at Patterson. "I want nothing to do with you and your war."

Gannet shrugged. "I'll send out a routine net, in any case. Just to be on the safe side." He moved off, leaving Evelyn and Patterson standing alone together.

"Listen to me," Evelyn said harshly, her lips hot and close to his ear. "Unger's number has come up."

"When did they notify you?" Patterson demanded.

"I was on my way here. I did what you said -- I fixed it up with a clerk at Military."

"How long ago?"

"Just now." Evelyn's face trembled. "Vachel, he's here"

It was a moment before Patterson understood. "You mean they sent him over here? To the hospital?"

"I told them to. I told them when he came to volunteer, when his number came to the top --"

Patterson grabbed her and hurried her from the therapy house, outside into the bright sunlight. He pushed her onto an ascent ramp and crowded in after her. "Where are they holding him?"

"In the public reception room. They told him it was a routine physical check. A minor test of some kind." Evelyn was terrified. "What are we going to do? Can we do something?"

"Gannet thinks so."

"Suppose we -- stopped him? Maybe we could turn him aside?" She shook her head, dazed. "What would happen? What would the future be like if we stopped him here? You could keep him out of the Service -- you're a doc­tor. A little red check on his health card." She began to laugh wildly. "I see them all the time. A little red check, and no more David Unger. Gannet never sees him, Gannet never knows Earth can't win and then Earth will win, and V-Stephens doesn't get locked up as a psychotic and that webfoot girl --"

Patterson's open hand smashed across the woman's face. "Shut up and snap out of it! We don't have time for that!"

Evelyn shuddered; he caught hold of her and held on tight to her until finally she raised her face. A red welt was rising slowly on her cheek. "I'm sorry," she managed to murmur. "Thanks. I'll be all right."

The lift had reached the main floor. The door slid back and Patterson led her out into the hall. "You haven't seen him?"

"No. When they told me the number had come up and he was on his way" -- Evelyn hurried breathlessly after Patterson -- "I came as quickly as I could. Maybe it's too late. Maybe he got tired of waiting and left. He's a fifteen year old boy. He wants to get into the fight. Maybe he's gone!"

Patterson halted a robot attendant. "Are you busy?"

"No sir," the robot answered.

Patterson gave the robot David Unger's i.d. number. "Get this man from the main reception room. Send him out here and then close off this hall. Seal it at both ends so nobody can enter or leave."

The robot clicked uncertainly. "Will there be further orders? This syn­drome doesn't complete a --"

"I'll instruct you later. Make sure nobody comes out with him. I want to meet him here alone."

The robot scanned the number and then disappeared into the reception room.

Patterson gripped Evelyn's arm. "Scared?"

"I'm terrified."

"I'll handle it. You just stand there." He passed her his cigarettes. "Light one for both of us."

"Three, maybe. One for Unger."

Patterson grinned. "He's too young, remember? He's not old enough to smoke."

The robot returned. With it was a blond boy, plump and blue-eyed, his face wrinkled with perplexity. "You wanted me, Doc?" He came uncertainly up to Patterson. "Is there something wrong with me? They told me to come here, but they didn't say what for." His anxiety increased with a tidal rush. "There's nothing to keep me out of the Service is there?"

Patterson grabbed the boy's newly stamped i.d. card, glanced at it, and then passed it to Evelyn. She accepted it with paralyzed fingers, her eyes on the blond youth.

He was not David Unger.

"What's your name?" Patterson demanded.

The boy stammered out his name shyly. "Bert Robinson. Doesn't it say there on my card?"

Patterson turned to Evelyn. "It's the right number. But this isn't Unger. Something's happened."

"Say, Doc," Robinson asked plaintively, "is there something going to keep me out of the Service or not? Give me the word."

Patterson signaled the robot. "Open up the hall. It's all over with. You can go back to what you were doing."

"I don't understand," Evelyn murmured. "It doesn't make sense."

"You're all right," Patterson said to the youth. "You can report for induc­tion."

The boy's face sagged with relief. "Thanks a lot, Doc." He edged toward the descent ramp. "I sure appreciate it. I'm dying to get a crack at those webfoots."

"Now what?" Evelyn said tightly, when the youth's broad back had disap­peared. "Where do we go from here?"

Patterson shook himself alive. "We'll get the Census Department to make their check. We've got to locate Unger."

The transmission room was a humming blur of vid and aud reports. Pat­terson elbowed his way to an open circuit and placed the call.

"That information will take a short time, sir," the girl at Census told him. "Will you wait, or shall we return your call?"

Patterson grabbed up an h-loop and clipped it around his neck. "As soon as you have any information on Unger let me know. Break into this loop immediately."

"Yes, sir," the girl said dutifully, and broke the circuit.

Patterson headed out of the room and down the corridor. Evelyn hurried after him. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"To the therapy house. I want to talk to the old man. I want to ask him some things."

"Gannet's doing that," Evelyn gasped, as they descended to the ground level. "Why do you --"

"I want to ask him about the present, not the future." They emerged in the blinding afternoon sunlight. "I want to ask him about things going on right now."

Evelyn stopped him. "Can't you explain it to me?"

"I have a theory," Patterson pushed urgently past her. "Come on, before it's too late."

They entered the therapy house. Technicians and officers were standing around the huge map table, examining the counters and indicator lines. "Where's Unger?" Patterson demanded.

"He's gone," one of the officers answered. "Gannet gave up for today."

"Gone where?" Patterson began to swear savagely. "What happened?"