The Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick 4: The Minority Report

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The Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick 4: The Minority Report Page 19

by Philip K. Dick


  "No! We can't go back! We can't!"

  There was silence. "We'll decide later," Eller said finally. "We don't have to settle it now. These changes in our systems are due to radiation, so they may be only temporary. They may go away, in time. Or surgery may help. Anyhow, let's not worry about it now."

  "Not worry? No, of course I won't worry. How could I worry about a little thing like this! Cris, don't you understand? We're monsters, hairless monsters. No hair, no teeth, no nails. Our heads—"

  "I understand." Eller set his jaw. "You stay down in the lab. Blake and I will discuss it with you on the vidscreen. You won't have to show yourself to us."

  Silvia took a deep breath. "Anything you say. You're still captain."

  Eller turned away from the screen. "Well, Blake, do you feel well enough to talk?"

  The great-domed figure in the corner nodded, the immense hairless skull moving slightly. Blake's once great body had shrunk, caved in. The arms were pipe stems, the chest hollow and sickly. Restlessly, the soft fingers tapped against the table. Eller studied him.

  "What is it?" Blake said.

  "Nothing. I was just looking at you."

  "You're not very pleasant looking, either."

  "I realize that." Eller sat down across from him. His heart was pounding, his breath coming shallowly. "Poor Silv! It's worse for her than it is for us."

  Blake nodded. "Poor Silv. Poor all of us. She's right, Eller. We're monsters." His fragile lips curled. "They'll destroy us back on Terra. Or lock us up. Maybe a quick death would be better. Monsters, freaks, hairless hydrocephalics."

  "Not hydrocephalics," Eller said. "Your brain isn't impaired. That's one thing to be thankful for. We can still think. We still have our minds."

  "In any case we know why there isn't life on the asteroid," Blake said ironically. "We're a success as a scouting party. We got the information. Radiation, lethal radiation, destructive to organic tissue. Produces mutation and alteration in cell growth as well as changes in the structure and function of the organs."

  Eller studied him thoughtfully. "That's quite learned talk for you, Blake."

  "It's an accurate description." Blake looked up. "Let's be realistic. We're monstrous cancers blasted by hard radiation. Let's face it. We're not men, not human beings any longer. We're—"

  "We're what?"

  "I don't know." Blake lapsed into silence.

  "It's strange," Eller said. He studied his fingers moodily. He experimented, moving his fingers about. Long, long and thin. He traced the surface of the table with them. The skin was sensitive. He could feel every indentation of the table, every line and mark.

  "What are you doing?" Blake said.

  "I'm curious." Eller held his fingers close to his eyes, studying them. His eyesight was dimming. Everything was vague and blurred. Across from him Blake was staring down. Blake's eyes had begun to recede, sinking slowly into the great hairless skull. It came to Eller all at once that they were losing their sight. They were going slowly blind. Panic seized him.

  "Blake!" he said. "We're going blind. There's a progressive deterioration of our eyes, vision and muscles."

  "I know," Blake said.

  "But why? We're actually losing the eyes themselves! They're going away, drying up. Why?"

  "Atrophied," Blake murmured.

  "Perhaps." Eller brought out a log book from the table, and a writing beam. He traced a few notes on the foil. Sight diminishing, vision failing rapidly. But fingers much more sensitive. Skin response unusual. Compensation?

  "What do you think of this?" he said. "We're losing some functions, gaining others."

  "In our hands?" Blake studied his own hands. "The loss of the nails makes it possible to use the fingers in new ways." He rubbed his fingers against the cloth of his uniform. "I can feel individual fibers which was impossible before."

  "Then the loss of nails was purposeful!"

  "So?"

  "We've been assuming this was all without purpose. Accidental burns, cell destruction, alteration. I wonder…" Eller moved the writing beam slowly across the log sheet. Fingers: new organs of perception. Heightened touch, more tactile response. But vision dimming…

  "Cris!" Silvia's voice came, sharp and frightened.

  "What is it?" He turned toward the vidscreen.

  "I'm losing my sight. I can't see."

  "It's all right. Don't worry."

  "I'm—I'm afraid."

  Eller went over to the vidscreen. "Silv, I think we're losing some senses and gaining others. Examine your fingers. Do you notice anything? Touch something."

  There was an agonizing pause. "I seem to be able to feel things much differently. Not the same as before."

  "That's why our nails are gone."

  "But what does it mean?"

  Eller touched his bulging cranium, exploring the smooth skin thoughtfully. Suddenly he clenched his fists, gasping. "Silv! Can you still operate the X-ray equipment? Are you mobile enough to cross the lab?"

  "Yes, I suppose so."

  "Then I want an X-ray plate made. Make it right away. As soon as it's ready notify me."

  "An X-ray plate? Of what?"

  "Of your own cranium. I want to see what changes our brains have undergone. Especially the cerebrum. I'm beginning to understand, I think."

  "What is it?"

  "I'll tell you when I see the plate." A faint smile played across Eller's thin lips. "If I'm right, then we've been completely mistaken about what's happened to us!"

  For a long time Eller stared at the X-ray plate framed in the vidscreen. Dimly he made out the lines of the skull, struggling to see with his fading eyesight. The plate trembled in Silvia's hands.

  "What do you see?" she whispered.

  "I was right. Blake, look at this, if you can."

  Blake came slowly over, supporting himself with one of the chairs. "What is it?" He peered at the plate, blinking. "I can't see well enough."

  "The brain has changed enormously. Notice how much enlargement there is here." Eller traced the frontal lobe outline. "Here, and here. There's been growth, amazing growth. And greater convolution. Notice this odd bulge off the frontal lobe. A kind of projection. What do you suppose it might be?"

  "I have no idea," Blake said. "Isn't that area mainly concerned with higher processes of thought?"

  "The most developed cognitive faculties are located there. And that's where the most growth has taken place." Eller moved slowly away from the screen.

  "What do you make of it?" Silvia's voice came.

  "I have a theory. It may be wrong, but this fits in perfectly. I thought of it almost at first, when I saw that my nails were gone."

  "What's your theory?"

  Eller sat down at the control table. "Better get off your feet, Blake. I don't think our hearts are too strong. Our body mass is decreasing, so perhaps later on—"

  "Your theory! What is it?" Blake came toward him, his thin bird-like chest rising and falling. He peered down intently at Eller. "What is it?"

  "We've evolved," Eller said. "The radiation from the asteroid speeded up cell growth, like cancer. But not without design. There's purpose and direction to these changes, Blake. We're changing rapidly, moving through centuries in a few seconds."

  Blake stared at him.

  "It's true," Eller said. "I'm sure of it. The enlarged brain, diminished powers of sight, loss of hair, teeth. Increased dexterity and tactile sense. Our bodies have lost, for the most part. But our minds have benefited. We're developing greater cognitive powers, greater conceptual capacity. Our minds are moving ahead into the future. Our minds are evolving."

  "Evolving!" Blake sat down slowly. "Can this be true?"

  "I'm certain of it. We'll take more X-rays, of course. I'm anxious to see changes in the internal organs, kidneys, stomach. I imagine we've lost portions of our—"

  "Evolved! But that means that evolution is not the result of accidental external stresses. Competition and struggle. Natural selection, aimless, witho
ut direction. It implies that every organism carries the thread of its evolution within it. Then evolution is ideological, with a goal, not determined by chance."

  Eller nodded. "Our evolution seems to be more of an internal growth and change along distinct lines. Certainly not at random. It would be interesting to know what the directing force is."

  "This throws a new light on things," Blake murmured. "Then we're not monsters, after all. We're not monsters. We're—we're men of the future."

  Eller glanced at him. There was a strange quality in Blake's voice. "I suppose you might say that," he admitted. "Of course, we'll still be considered freaks on Terra."

  "But they'll be wrong," Blake said. "Yes, they'll look at us and say we're freaks. But we're not freaks. In another few million years the rest of mankind will catch up to us. We're moving ahead of our own time, Eller."

  Eller studied Blake's great bulging head. He could only dimly make out its lines. Already, the well-lighted control room was turning almost dark. Their sight was virtually gone. All he could make out was vague shadows, nothing more.

  "Men of the future," Blake said. "Not monsters, but men from tomorrow. Yes, this certainly throws a new light on things." He laughed nervously. "A few minutes ago I was ashamed of my new appearance! But now—"

  "But now what?"

  "But now I'm not so sure."

  "What do you mean?"

  Blake did not answer. He had got slowly to his feet, holding onto the table.

  "Where are you going?" Eller said.

  Blake crossed the control room painfully, feeling his way toward the door. "I must think this over. There are astonishing new elements to be considered. I agree, Eller. You're quite right. We have evolved. Our cognitive faculties are greatly improved. There's considerable deterioration in body functions, of course. But that's to be expected. I think we're actually the gainers, everything considered." Blake touched his great skull cautiously. "Yes, I think that in the long run we may have gained. We will look back on this as a great day, Eller. A great day in our lives. I'm sure your theory is correct. As the process continues I can sense changes in my conceptual abilities. The Gestalt faculty has risen amazingly. I can intuit certain relationships that—"

  "Stop!" Eller said. "Where are you going? Answer me. I'm still captain of this ship."

  "Going? I'm going to my quarters. I must rest. This body is highly inadequate. It may be necessary to devise mobile carts and perhaps even artificial organs as mechanical lungs and hearts. I'm certain the pulmonary and vascular systems are not going to stand up long. The life expectancy is no doubt greatly diminished. I'll see you later, Major Eller. But perhaps I should not use the word see." He smiled faintly. "We will not see much any more." He raised his hands. "But these will take the place of vision." He touched his skull. "And this will take the place of many, many things."

  He disappeared, closing the door behind him. Eller heard him going slowly, determinedly down the corridor, feeling his way along with careful, feeble steps.

  Eller crossed to the vidscreen. "Silv! Can you hear me? Did you listen to our conversation?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you know what has happened to us."

  "Yes, I know. Cris, I'm almost completely blind now. I can see virtually nothing."

  Eller grimaced, remembering Silvia's keen, sparkling eyes. "I'm sorry, Silv. I wish this had never happened. I wish we were back the way we were. It's not worth it."

  "Blake thinks it's worth it."

  "I know. Listen, Silv. I want you to come here to the control room, if you can. I'm worried about Blake, and I want you here with me."

  "Worried? How?"

  "He's got something on his mind. He's not going to his quarters merely to rest. Come here with me and we'll decide what to do. A few minutes ago I was the one who said we should go back to Terra. But now I think I'm beginning I change my mind."

  "Why? Because of Blake? You don't suppose Blake would—"

  "I'll discuss it with you when you get here. Make your way along with your hands. Blake did it, so probably you can. I think perhaps we won't return to Terra after all. But I want to give you my reasons."

  "I'll be there as soon as I can," Silvia said. "But be patient. And Cris—Don't look at me. I don't want you to see me this way."

  "I won't see you," Eller said grimly. "By the time you get here I won't be able to see much at all."

  Silvia sat down at the control table. She had put on one of the spacesuits from the lab locker so that her body was hidden by the plastic and metal suit. Eller waited until she had caught her breath.

  "Go on," Silvia said.

  "The first thing we must do is collect all the weapons on the ship. When Blake comes back I'm going to announce that we are not returning to Terra. I think he will be angry, perhaps enough to start trouble. If I'm not mistaken, he very much wants to keep moving Terra-side now, as he begins to understand the implications of our change."

  "And you don't want to go back."

  "No." Eller shook his head. "We must not go back to Terra. There's danger, great danger. You can see what kind of danger already."

  "Blake is fascinated by the new possibilities," Silvia said thoughtfully. "We're ahead of other men, several millions of years, advancing each moment. Our brains, our powers of thought, are far in advance of other Terrans."

  "Blake will want to go back to Terra, not as an ordinary man, but as a man of the future. We may find ourselves in relation to other Terrans as geniuses among idiots. If the process of change keeps up, we may find them nothing more than higher primates, animals in comparison to us."

  They both were silent.

  "If we go back to Terra we'll find human beings nothing more than animals," Eller went on. "Under the circumstances, what would be more natural than for us to help them? After all, we're millions of years ahead of them. We could do a lot for them if they'd let us direct them, lead them, do their planning for them."

  "And if they resist we probably could find ways of gaining control of them," Silvia said. "And everything, of course, would be for their own good. That goes without saying. You're right, Cris. If we go back to Terra we'll soon find ourselves contemptuous of mankind. We'll want to lead them, show them how to live, whether they want us to or not. Yes, it'll be a strong temptation."

  Eller got to his feet. He went over to the weapons locker and opened it. Carefully, he removed the heavy-duty Boris guns and brought them over to the table, one by one.

  "The first thing is to destroy these. After that, you and I have to see to it that Blake is kept away from the control room. Even if we have to barricade ourselves in, it has to be done. I'll reroute the ship. We'll move away from the system, toward some remote region. It's the only way."

  He opened the Boris guns and removed the firing controls. One by one he broke the controls, crunching them under foot.

  There was a sound. Both turned, straining to see.

  "Blake!" Eller said. "It must be you. I can't see you, but—"

  "You're correct," Blake's voice came. "No, Eller, we're all of us blind, or almost blind. So you destroyed the Boris guns! I'm afraid that won't keep us from returning to Terra."

  "Go back to your quarters," Eller said. "I'm the captain, and I'm giving you an order to—"

  Blake laughed. "You're ordering me? You're almost blind, Eller, but I think you'll be able to see—this!"

  Something rose up into the air around Blake, a soft pale cloud of blue. Eller gasped, cringing, as the cloud swirled around him. He seemed to be dissolving, breaking into countless fragments, rushed and carried away, drifting—

  Blake withdrew the cloud into the tiny disc that he held. "If you'll remember," he said calmly, "I received the first bath of radiation. I'm a little ahead of you two, by only a short time, perhaps, but enough. In any case, the Boris guns would have been useless, compared to what I have. Remember, everything in this ship is a million years antiquated. What I hold—"

  "Where did you get it, that disc?"


  "I got it nowhere. I constructed it, as soon as I realized that you would turn the ship away from Terra. I found it easy to make. In a short time the two of you will also begin to realize our new powers. But right now, I'm afraid, you're just a bit behind."

  Eller and Silvia struggled to breathe. Eller sank against the hull railing, exhausted, his heart laboring. He stared at the disc in Blake's hand.

  "We'll continue moving toward Terra," Blake went on. "Neither of you is going to change the control settings. By the time we arrive at the New York Spaceport you both will have come to see things differently. When you've caught up with me you'll see things as I see them. We must go back, Eller. It's our duty to mankind."

  "Our duty?"

  There was a faint mocking quality in Blake's voice. "Of course it's our duty! Mankind needs us. It needs us very much. There's much we can do for Terra. You see, I was able to catch some of your thoughts. Not all of them, but enough to know what you were planning. You'll find that from now on we'll begin to lose speech as a method of communication. We'll soon begin to rely directly on—"

  "If you can see into my mind then you can see why we mustn't return to Terra," Eller said.

  "I can see what you're thinking but you're wrong. We must go back for their good." Blake laughed softly. "We can do a lot for them. Their science will change in our hands. They will change, altered by us. We'll remake Terra, make her strong. The Triumvirate will be helpless before the new Terra, the Terra that we will build. The three of us will transform the race, make it rise, burst across the entire galaxy. Mankind will be material for us to mold. The blue and white will be planted everywhere, on all the planets of the galaxy, not on mere bits of rock. We'll make Terra strong, Eller. Terra will rule everywhere."

  "So that's what you have in mind," Eller said. "And if Terra doesn't want to go along with us? What then?"

  "It is possible they won't understand," Blake admitted. "After all, we must begin to realize that we're millions of years ahead of them. They're a long way behind us, and many times they may not understand the purpose of our orders. But you know that orders must be carried out, even if their meaning is not comprehended. You've commanded ships, you know that. For Terra's own good, and for—"

 

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