Philip Dick - CANTATA-141

In George Walt's office sat the huge, white-haired old Sinanthropus; he watched warily from beneath his beetling brows as Jim Briskin entered, obviously suspicious at once. It would be no easy task, Jim realized, to come to terms with this man. Mistrust was profoundly written on his massive-jawed, sloping face.

'We've got them where we want them,' George Walt said expansively to the Sinanthropus. This man's coming up here - Jim Briskin is his name - verifies it.' Both eyes flamed with gloating.

In a hoarse voice, the Sinanthropus said, 'What will you offer us if we abandon your world ?'

Jim Briskin said, 'That which we prize beyond everything elite. Our most valued possession.'

The Sinanthropus and George Walt watched him fixedly.

"The Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C.,' Jim said.

'Wait a minute' / 'We're not interested in that!' George Walt said together. "That won't do; that's out of the question. We want political and economic priority over the North American land mass

- otherwise the invasion continues. What kind of offer is the Smithsonian ? That's nothing but a museum.' / 'Who wants a museum ? This is ridiculous!' Both eyes blazed with outraged and uneasy anger.

The Sinanthropus, however, said slowly and distinctly, 'I am reading Mr. Briskin's mind, and I

am interested. Please be silent. Wind God, it goes without saying that your opinion is valuable, but it is I who must make the actual decision,"

"The conference is over!' / 'I've heard enough,' George Walt said. 'Go back below to Terra,

Briskin; you're not wanted here.' / 'Let's call this off.'

'There is, in the back of your mind,' the Sinanthropus said to Jim, 'the thought that you will, if pressed, add in the Library of Congress. I will consider that offer as well.'

'We'd prefer not to add that,' Jim said, 'but if we have to, we have to.' He felt resigned.

'Goodbye, Briskin,' George Walt said. 'See you some time. It's evident that you're trying to make a side deal, here; trying to cut my brother and me out. But we won't be cut out.' The head added emphatically, 'I agree. You're completely wasting your time, Briskin.' One of George Walt's four arms was extended, then, 'Until next time.'

'Until next time,' Jim said, shaking hands. Taking a deep, unsteady breath he all at once yanked with every dyne of strength which he could muster; the hand and arm came loose from the artificial body and he was left holding them.

Bewildered, the Sinanthropus said, 'Wind God, it seems strange to me that your arm is detachable.'

'This is no Wind God,' Jim Briskin said. 'You've been misled. Our people were, too, for a good long time. This is an ordinary man with an extra, artificial body.' He pointed to the wiring visible within the gaping shoulder.

'A Homo sapiens, you mean ?' the stooped old Sinanthropus said. 'Like yourself ?' Slow but exact comprehension began to form in his reddish eyes.

'Not only is he not a Wind God,' Jim said, 'but he's been for decades the owner of a ... I dislike naming it outright.'

'Name it!'

'Let's simply call it a house of pleasure. He's a businessman. No more, no less.'

'I can think of nothing more obnoxious to the mores of my people,' the Sinanthropus said to

George Walt, 'than a hoax of this stripe. You swore to us that you were our Wind God. And in fulfillment of many myths, your unusual anatomy seemed to prove it.' He panted slowly, raggedly.

' "Unusual",' George Walt echoed. 'You mean unique. In all of the parallel Earths - and God knows exactly how many there may be, you won't find anyone, anyone at all, like me.' He amended quickly, 'Like us, rather. And consider this satellite. What do you think keeps it up ?

The wind, of course; how else could it stay up here, month after month ? Obviously I control the wind, as I told you. Otherwise this satellite would...'

'I could destroy you,' the old Sinanthropus said. He no longer seemed much impressed by George

Walt's line of argument. 'But I am frankly too disappointed to care one way or another. It's clear to me, and I will soon see that it's equally clear to my people, that you Homo sapiens are a treacherous lot. Probably best avoided.' To Jim he said, 'It's that so ?'

'We're known for that,' Jim agreed.

'And that's how you triumphed originally over our ancestors on this parallel world ?'

'You're damn right,' Jim said. He added, 'And we'd do it again, given half a chance.'

'Probably you would not genuinely have delivered that museum of yours to us,' the Sinanthropus said, 'the name of which I have already forgotten. Well, no matter. Obviously it's impossible to do business with you Homo sapiens; you're adept, polished liars. Nothing we agreed on would remain truly binding in such a milieu. My people lack even a name for such conduct.'

'No wonder we had so little trouble wiping you out,' Jim said.

'In view of your dedication to fraud,' the Sinanthropus said, 'I see no real point in my remaining here; the longer I go on, the more immersed I become. Personally, I regret this whole encounter; my people have suffered by it already. God knows what would become of us if we were so naive as to try to continue.' An unhappy expression on his face, the aged, white-haired Sinanthropus turned his back and walked away from Jim Briskin and George Walt. 'It would be unnatural for people of our race to seek to participate in an exclusively destructive relationship,' he said, over his shoulder. And vanished. One moment he stood there, the next he had gone. Even George

Walt seemed taken aback; both eyes blinked. The Sinanthropus, by means of his so called magic, had returned to his own world.

'Smart,' George Walt said, presently. "You handled that extremely well, Briskin. I never saw it coming. One hundred years of work gone down the drain. Give me my arm back and we'll call it quits; I'm too old to go through this kind of thing any more.' The head added, "You're probably right. After all, politically speaking, Briskin is a professional; he can run rings around us. What happened here just now demonstrates that.'

'Honesty generally wins out,' Jim said.

'You call that trash you peddled to that half-animal just now - you call that honesty ? I never heard such a mass of twisted ...' George Walt broke off, then. 'Like everybody else, I more or less trusted you, Briskin. It never occurred to me you'd trade on such techniques to win an issue.

Your integrity's just a myth! Probably dreamed up by your campaign manager.'

'You mean you actually are their Wind God ?'

'Pragmatically speaking, yes. Every one of us, in relation to them, are gods ... speaking in terms of the evolutionary hierarchy, anyhow, in the broadest possible sense.'

Jim said, 'Was it you who enabled them to shoot apart the QB observation satellite ?'

Nodding, George Walt said, 'Yes, it was. By my magic.'

'What you mean,' Jim said, 'is that you ferried a ground-to-air guided missile over to them.

Magic, my foot.' He looked at his wristwatch. 'I have to get back down to Earth; I've got a major speech to record. You care to accompany me back to my 'hopper ?'

'I'm busy,' George Walt said curtly. 'I have to fit my arm back on. This whole business makes me sick, and not only that, terribly angry; I'm going to initiate beamed broadcasts twenty-four hours a day on all frequencies denouncing you, as soon as I can get the satellite's transmitter started up again. I look forward to your losing in November, Briskin; that's the one nice thing I can count on.'

'Suit yourself,' Jim said, shrugging. He left the office, made his way to the elevator. Behind him,

George Walt brought a tool kit out from their desk and began the task of repairing the damage to the artificial body which Jim Briskin had purposefully accomplished. The expression on George