Philip K. Dick - The Game-Players of Titan

PHILIP K. DICK
THE GAME-PLAYERS OF TITAN

Philip K. Dick was born in Chicago in 1928 and lived most of his life in California. He briefly attended the University of California, but dropped out before completing any classes. In 1952 he began writing professionally and proceeded to write thirty-six novels and five short story collections. He won the Hugo Award for best novel in 1962 for The Man in the High Castle and the John W. Campbell Memorial Award for best novel of the year in 1974 for Flow My Tears the Policeman Said. Philip K. Dick died of heart failure following a stroke on March 2, 1982, in Santa Ana, California.

ALSO BY PHILIP K. DICK,
AVAILABLE FROM VINTAGE BOOKS

Confessions of a Crap Artist
The Divine Invasion
The Man in the High Castle
A Scanner Darkly
The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch
The Transmigration of Timothy Archer
Ubik
VALIS

It had been a bad night, and when he tried to drive home he had a terrible argument with his car.

Mr. Garden, you are in no condition to drive. Please use the auto-auto mech and recline in the rear seat.

Pete Garden sat at the steering tiller and said as distinctly as he could manage, Look, I can drive. One drink, in fact several make you more alert. So stop fooling around. He punched the starter button, but nothing happened. Start, darn it!

The auto-auto said, You have not inserted the key.

Okay, he said, feeling humiliated. Maybe the car was right. Resignedly, he inserted the key. The engine started up, but the controls were still dead. The Rushmore Effect was still taking place inside the hood, he knew; it was a losing argument. All right, Ill let you drive, he said with as much dignity as possible. Since youre so eager. Youll probably louse it all up anyhow, like you always do when Imnot feeling well.

He crawled into the back seat, threw himself down, as the car lifted from the payement and skimmed through the night sky, its signal lights blinking. God, he felt bad. His head was killing him.

His thoughts turned, as always, back to The Game.

Why had it gone so badly? Silvanus Angst was responsible. That clown, his brother-in-law or rather former brother-in-law. Thats right, Pete said to himself; I have to remember. Im not married to Freya anymore. Freya and I lost and so our marriage was dissolved and were starting over again with Freya married to Clem Gaines and Im not married to anybody yet because I havent managed to roll a three, yet.

Ill roll a three tomorrow, he told himself. And when I do, theyll have to import a wife for me; Ive used them all up in the group.

His car hummed on, finding its way above the deserted midsection of California, the desolate lands of abandoned towns.

Did you know that? he asked his car. That Ive been married to every woman in the group now? And I havent had any luck, yet, so it must be me. Right?

The car said, Its you.

Even if it were me, it wouldnt be my fault; its the Red Chinese. I hate them. He lay supine, staring up at the stars through the transparent dome of the car. I love you, though; Ive had you for years. Youre never going to wear out. He felt tears rise up in his eyes. Is that all right?

It depends on the preventative maintenance you faithfully follow.

I wonder what kind of woman theyll import for me. I wonder, the car echoed.

What other group was his groupPretty Blue Foxin closest contact with? Probably Straw Man Special, which met in Las Vegas and represented Bindmen from Nevada, Utah and Idaho. Shutting his eyes, he tried to remember what the women of Straw Man Special looked like.

When I get home to my apartment in Berkeley, Pete said to himself, Illand then he remembered something dreadful.

He could not go home to Berkeley. Because he had lost Berkeley in The Game, tonight. Walt Remington had won it from him by calling his bluff on square thirty-six. That was what had made it such a bad night.

Change course, he said hoarsely to the auto-auto circuit. He still held title deed to most of Marin County; he could stay there. Well go to San Rafael, he said, sitting up and rubbing his forehead, groggily.

A male voice said, Mrs. Gaines?

Freya, combing her short blonde hair before the mirror, did not look around; absorbed, she thought, It sounds like that awful Bill Calumine.

Do you want a ride home? the voice asked, and then Freya realized that it was her new husband, Clem Gaines. You are going home, arent you? Clem Gaines, large and overstuffed, with blue eyes, she thought, like broken glass that had been glued there, and glued slightly awry, strolled across the Game room toward her. It pleased him, obviously, to be married to her.

It wont be for long, Freya thought. Unless, she thought suddenly, we have luck.

She continued brushing her hair, paying no attention to him. For a woman one hundred and forty years old, she decided critically, I look all right. But I cant take responsibility for it none of us can.

They were preserved, all of them, by the absence of something, rather than the presence; in each of them the Hynes Gland had been removed at maturity and so for them the aging process was now imperceptible.

I like you, Freya, Clem said. Youre a refreshing person; you make it obvious you dont like me. He did not seem bothered; oafs like Clem Gaines never were. Lets go somewhere, Freya, and find out right away if luckwise you and I He broke off, because a vug had come into the room.

Jean Blau, putting on her coat, groaned, Look, it wants to be friendly. They always do. She backed away from it.

Her husband, Jack Blau, looked about for the groups vug-stick. Ill poke it a couple of times and itll go away, he said.

No, Freya protested. Its not doing any harm.

Shes right, Silvanus Angst said; he was at the sideboard, preparing himself a last drink. Just pour a little salt on it. He giggled.

The vug seemed to have singled out Clem Gaines. It likes you, Freya thought. Maybe you can go somewhere with it, instead of me.

But that was not fair to Clem, because none of them consorted with their former adversaries; it was just not done, despite the efforts by the Titanians to heal the old rift of wartime dislike. They were a silicon-based life form, rather than carbon-based; their cycle was slow, and involved methane rather than oxygen as the metabolic catalyst. And they were bisexual which was a rather non-B system indeed.

Poke it, Bill Calumine said to Jack Blau.

With the vug-stick, Jack prodded the jelly-like cytoplasm of the vug. Go home, he told it sharply. He grinned at Bill Calumine. Maybe we can have some fun with it. Lets try to draw it into conversation. Hey, vuggy. You like make talk-talk?

At once, eagerly, the Titanians thoughts came to them, addressed to all the humans in the condominium apartment. Any pregnancies reported? If so, our medical facilities are available and we urge you to

Listen, vuggy, Bill Calumine said, if we have any luck well keep it to ourselves. Its bad luck to tell you; everybody knows that. How come you dont know that?

It knows it, Silvanus Angst said. It just doesnt like to think about it.

Well, its time the vugs faced reality, Jack Blau said. We dont like them and thats it. Come on, he said to his wife. Lets go home. Impatiently, he waved Jean toward him.