Philip K Dick - Father-Thing (Collected Short Stories of Philip K. Dick, Vol 3)

The Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick Vol. 3

by Philip K Dick

Professor AnthonyDouglas lowered gratefully into his red-leather easy chair andsighed. A long sigh, accompanied by labored removal of his shoes andnumerous grunts as he kicked them into the corner. He folded hishands across his ample middle and lay back, eyes closed.

"Tired?"Laura Douglas asked, turning from the kitchen stove a moment, herdark eyes sympathetic.

"You're darnright." Douglas surveyed the evening paper across from him onthe couch. Was it worth it? No, not really. He felt around in hiscoat pocket for his cigarettes and lit up slowly, leisurely. "Yeah,I'm tired, all right. We're starting a whole new line of research.Whole flock of bright young men in from Washington today. Briefcasesand slide rules."

"Not --"

"Oh, I'm still incharge." Professor Douglas grinned expansively. "Perish thethought." Pale gray cigarette smoke billowed around him. "It'llbe another few years before they're ahead of me. They'll have tosharpen up their slide rules just a little bit more..."

His wife smiled andcontinued preparing dinner. Maybe it was the atmosphere of thelittle Colorado town. The sturdy, impassive mountain peaks aroundthem. The thin, chill air. The quiet citizens. In any case, herhusband seemed utterly unbothered by the tensions and doubts thatpressured other members of his profession. A lot of aggressivenewcomers were swelling the ranks of nuclear physics these days.Old-timers were tottering in their positions, abruptly insecure.Every college, every physics department and lab was being invaded bythe new horde of skilled young men. Even here at Bryant College, sofar off the beaten track.

But if Anthony Douglasworried, he never let it show. He rested happily in his easy chair,eyes shut, a blissful smile on his face. He was tired -- but atpeace. He sighed again, this time more from pleasure than fatigue.

"It's true,"he murmured lazily. "I may be old enough to be their father, butI'm still a few jumps ahead of them. Of course, I know the ropesbetter. And --"

"And the wires.The ones worth pulling."

"Those, too. Inany case, I think I'll come off from this new line we're doing justabout..."

His voice trailed off.

"What's thematter?" Laura asked.

Douglas half rose fromhis chair. His face had gone suddenly white. He stared in horror,gripping the arms of his chair, his mouth opening and closing.

At the window was agreat eye. An immense eye that gazed into the room intently, studyinghim. The eye filled the whole window.

"Good God!"Douglas cried.

The eye withdrew.Outside there was only the evening gloom, the dark hills and trees,the street. Douglas sank down slowly in his chair.

"What was it?"Laura demanded sharply. "What did you see? Was somebody outthere?"

Douglas clasped andunclasped his hands. His lips twitched violently. "I'm tellingyou the truth, Bill. I saw it myself. It was real. I wouldn't say so,otherwise. You know that. Don't you believe me?"

"Did anybody elsesee it?" Professor William Henderson asked, chewing his pencilthoughtfully. He had cleared a place on the dinner table, pushed backhis plate and silver and laid out his notebook. "Did Laura seeit?"

"No. Laura had herback turned."

"What time wasit?"

"Half an hour ago.I had just got home. About six-thirty. I had my shoes off, taking iteasy." Douglas wiped his forehead with a shaking hand.

"You say it wasunattached? There was nothing else? Just the -- eye?"

"Just the eye. Onehuge eye looking in at me. Taking in everything. As if..."

"As if what?"

"As if it waslooking down a microscope."

Silence.

From across the table,Henderson's red-haired wife spoke up. "You always were a strictempiricist, Doug. You never went in for any nonsense before. Butthis... It's too bad nobody else saw it."

"Of course nobodyelse saw it!"

"What do youmean?"

"The damn thingwas looking at me. It was me it was studying."Douglas's voice rose hysterically. "How do you think I feel --scrutinized by an eye as big as a piano! My God, if I weren't so wellintegrated, I'd be out of my mind!"

Henderson and his wifeexchanged glances. Bill, dark-haired and handsome, ten yearsDouglas's junior. Vivacious Jean Henderson, lecturer in childpsychology, lithe and full-bosomed in her nylon blouse and slacks.

"What do you makeof this?" Bill asked her. "This is more along your line."

"It's yourline," Douglas snapped. "Don't try to pass this off asa morbid projection. I came to you because you're head of the BiologyDepartment."

"You think it's ananimal? A giant sloth or something?"

"It must be ananimal."

"Maybe it's ajoke," Jean suggested. "Or an advertising sign. Anoculist's display. Somebody may have been carrying it past thewindow."

Douglas took a firmgrip on himself. "The eye was alive. It looked at me. Itconsidered me. Then it withdrew. As if it had moved away from thelens." He shuddered. "I tell you it was studying me!"

"You only?"

"Me. Nobody else."

"You seemcuriously convinced it was looking down from above," Jean said.

"Yes, down. Downat me. That's right." An odd expression flickered acrossDouglas's face. "You have it, Jean. As if it came from upthere." He jerked his hand upward.

"Maybe it wasGod," Bill said thoughtfully.

Douglas said nothing.His face turned ash white and his teeth chattered.

"Nonsense,"Jean said. "God is a psychological transcendent symbolexpressing unconscious forces."

"Did it look atyou accusingly?" asked Bill. "As if you'd done somethingwrong?"

"No. Withinterest. With considerable interest." Douglas raised himself."I have to get back. Laura thinks I'm having some kind of fit. Ihaven't told her, of course. She's not scientifically disciplined.She wouldn't be able to handle such a concept."

"It's a littletough even for us," Bill said.

Douglas moved nervouslytoward the door. "You can't think of any explanation? Somethingthought extinct that might still be roaming around these mountains?"

"None that we knowof. If I should hear of any --"

"You said itlooked down," Jean said. "Not bending down to peer in atyou. Then it couldn't have been an animal or terrestrial being."She was deep in thought. "Maybe we're being observed."

"Not you,"Douglas said miserably. "Just me."

"By another race,"Bill put in. "You think --"

"Maybe it's an eyefrom Mars."

Douglas opened thefront door carefully and peered out. The night was black. A faintwind moved through the trees and along the highway. His car was dimlyvisible, a black square against the hills. "If you think ofanything, call me."

"Take a couple ofphenobarbitals before you hit the sack," Jean suggested. "Calmyour nerves."

Douglas was out on theporch. "Good idea. Thanks." He shook his head. "MaybeI'm out of my mind. Good Lord. Well, I'll see you later."

He walked down thesteps, gripping the rail tightly. "Good night!" Billcalled. The door closed and the porch light clicked off.

Douglas went cautiouslytoward his car. He reached out into the darkness, feeling for thedoor handle. One step. Two steps. It was silly. A grown man --practically middle-aged -- in the twentieth century. Three steps.

He found the door andopened it, sliding quickly inside and locking it after him. Hebreathed a silent prayer of thanks as he snapped on the motor and theheadlights. Silly as hell. A giant eye. A stunt of some sort.

He turned the thoughtsover in his mind. Students? Jokesters? Communists? A plot to drivehim out of his mind? He was important. Probably the most importantnuclear physicist in the country. And this new project...

He drove the car slowlyforward, onto the silent highway. He watched each bush and tree asthe car gained speed.