i a f "JN O* 2'9 1 f rt SCIENCI FICTION ! — ' — i if — I I I i I : |||;' >4s - 1? ' 1 , , ' . fV . I !y f / j | jjgfc jjjhr .% -*”>v Jf J .* HI S&H by PHILIP K. DICK ' «* • SPRAGUE de CAMP RICHARD WILSON , / RANDALL GAlRRETT... WAItCA.CE WEST TOMORROW'S INTERPLANETARY TRAVELLER—SPACE TRANSFER Careful computations must be made, lest our spaeeshipless voyager materializes in the depths of space, or miles above the planet, or beneath the surface. For fuller details, see "'File Spaceman’s Van Gogh,” by Clifford D. Simak, in the March, 1956 issue of Science Fiction Stories. It was a rational ivorld, a world without war, a world ruled by the logic of Vulcan III, the great- est of computers. But hatred and rebellion was strange reason, no direc- there , too; and for some tives seemed to be coming forth as to what could be done about the Healers. NOVEL VULCAN'S HAMMER by Philip K. Dick illustrated by Kelly Freas ITT was conscious of the aproned grocer. The usual — mob as soon as he left the lower middle-class; always the P Unity office and started same. across the street. He stopped at Pitt slid into his car and snap- the corner by his car and lit a ped on the dashboard mike. cigaret. Unlocking the car, he "Emergency.” They were moving studied the mob, holding his fast, now, filling up the street briefcase tightly. and surging silently toward him. There were fifty or sixty of They had, no doubt, identified them: People of the town; work- him by his T-class clothes — ers and small businessmen; petty white shirt and tie, gray suit, felt clerks with steel-rimmed glasses. hat. Briefcase. The shine of his Mechanics and truckdrivers; black shoes. The pencil beam farmers; housewives; a white- gleaming in the breast pocket of 4 ” 6 FUTURE SCIENCE FICTION his coat. He unclipped the gold going to need help. They mean tube and held it ready. business.” " “Cartwright,” the dashboard 1 here’s a crew already on the speaker said. w'ay. Try to get a better scan of "This is Pitt.” him. We didn’t get it well.” “Where are you?” "Still in Cedar Groves. There’s ITT GRINNED bleakly. One of a mob forming all around me. P the back windows had crack- I suppose they have the roads ed; hands groped blindly into the blocked. Looks like the whole car. "I’ve got to get out of here, damn town.” Cartwright.” “Any Healers?” “Don’t get panicky." "Keep the old brain down?” ff to one side, on the curb, Pitt released the brake. The car O stood an old man with a moved forward a few feet — and massive head and short-cropped stopped dead. The motor died hair. Standing quietly in his drab into silence. Cold fear slid brown robe, a knotted rope through Pitt’s stomach. He fin- around his waist, sandals on his gered his pencil beam nervously. feet. “One,” Pitt said. Four or five men were astride "Try to get a scan for Vulcan the hood, cutting off his view; HI.” others were on the cabin above "I’ll try.” The mob was all his head. A sudden shuddering around the car, now. Pitt could roar: They were cutting through hear their hands, plucking and the roof with a heat drill. feeling at the car, exploring it “How long?” Pitt muttered carefully — with calm efficiency. thickly. "I’m stalled.” He leaned back and double- "They’ll be along any min- locked the doors. The windows ute.” were rolled up; the hood was "They better hurry,” The car down tight. He snapped on the shuddered as a whole barrage of motor. On the curb, the man in rocks hit. The car tipped omi- brown had not moved. He stood nously; they were lifting it up with a few others, people in or- on one side, trying to overturn dinary street clothing. Pitt pulled it. Both back windows were out. the scanner out and lifted it up. A man’s hand reached for the A rock hit the side of the car door release. below the window; the car shud- Pitt burned the hand to ash dered. A second rock hit directly with his pencil beam. The stump against the window, sending a hastily withdrew. "I got one.” web of cracks rippling across it. "If you could scan some of Pitt dropped the scanner. "I’m them for us — VULCAN'S HAMMER 7 More hands appeared. The Off down the highway the interior of the car was swelter- sirens of the police crew shrieked ing; the heat drill was almost mournfully. through. "I hate to do this.” Pitt turned his pencil beam on illiam Barris examined his briefcase until there was W the photo carefully. On his nothing left. Hastily, he dis- desk his coffee cooled into mud- solved the contents of his pock- dy scum, forgotten among his ets, everything in the glove com- papers. The Unity building rang partment, his identification pa- and vibrated with the sounds of pers, and finally he burned his endless calculators, statistics ma- wallet. chines, vidphones, teletypes, elec- "Here they come,” he said tric typewriters, and filing equip- softly, as the whole side of the ment. Clerks and officials moved cabin crumpled with a hoarse expertly back and forth in the groan and slid aside under the labyrinth of offices, the countless pressure of the drill. cells in which T-class men "Try to hang on, Pitt. The worked. crew should be there almost "This face is unusual,” Barris any . murmured; "look at his eyes, and the heavy ridge over the brows.” bruptly the speaker went "Phrenology,” Cartwright said A dead. Faces mooned up be- indifferently. fore him. Hard faces, like stone, Barris threw down the photo. pushing around him. Growing. "No wonder they get so many Pale white mushrooms on all followers. With organizers like sides. Pitt shoved down a scream. that — ” He handed the photo He turned the pencil beam at back to Cartwright. "What's his random, burning faces and name?” hands; the air reeked with acrid "Father Fields.” Cartwright fumes. thumbed through his file. "Fifty- Hands caught him, throwing nine years old. Trade: electrician. him back against the seat. His Top-grade turret wiring expert. coat ripped, tie pulled off. He One of the best during the War. screamed. A rock crashed into Born in Macon, Georgia, 1970. his face; the pencil fell to the Joined the Healers two years ago floor. A broken bottle cut across — at the beginning. One of the his eyes and mouth. His scream founders. Spent two months on bubbled into choked silence. The the Atlanta Psychological Correc- bodies scrambled over him. He tion Labs. Escaped, disappeared sank down, lost in the clutching — Without treatment.” Cart- mass of warm-smelling humanity. wright returned the photo to the 8 FUTURE SCIENCE FICTION file. "First time we've heard any- destroy society and wreck civili- ” thing about him since then.” zation. "Did you know Pitt?” "What are they really after?” "A little.” Cartwright got to "They want to smash Vulcan his feet. "The call is out for III; they want to strew its parts Father Fields; it’s been out for over the whole countryside. All months.” this today, Pitt’s death, the rest "Too bad the police showed up late. Always a few minutes late.” Barris studied Cartwright. "Pitt burned his papers?” “Odd, isn’t it?” "I suppose. We found noth- Cartwright shrugged. "When ing, no remains of him or any a whole town’s organized against of his equipment.” you, it isn’t. They blocked the roads, cut wires and cables, he door closed. Barris click- jammed the vidphone channels.” T ed on his closed-circuit vid- "If you get Father Fields send sender. The local Unity monitor him in to me. I want to examine appeared. "Give me Unity Con- him personally.” trol at Geneva.” Fie stirred his coffee absently. ARTWRIGHT SMILED thinly. Father Fields. The heavy face. C "Sure. But I doubt if we’ll Thick eyebrows. A man who had get him.” He yawned and moved once wired up electrical circuits tov/ard the door. "It’s unlikely; in T-class installations. He might he's a slick one.” have seen him, even employed "What do you know about him. And if not Fields, then this?” Barris demanded. others of the Movement. Me- Cartwright laughed. "Don’t chanics, plumbers, carpenters, butlers, waiters. Any of the drab ask me, ask Vulcan 111 ; that’s what it’s for.” army of lower-class people who Barris’ eyes flickered. "You came and went, unnoticed and know Vulcan 111 has given invisible. no statement in over fifteen The vidphone clicked. "Unity months.” Control,” "Maybe it doesn’t know.” "This is North American Cartwright opened the door to Director Barris. I wish to put the hall; his police bodyguard through an Emergency request swarmed around him. "I can tell to Vulcan III.” you one thing. The Healers are "Any first-order data to offer?” after one thing and one thing "Nothing not already filed.” only; everything else is talk — all "Then you’ll have to put tills stuff about their wanting to through your request in the usual way.” The Geneva monitor con- pot refilled it quickly with fresh suited a sheet. "The delay period coffee. Didn’t Vulcan 111 give a is now three days.” damn? Maybe it wasn’t concern- "What's Vulcan 111 doing? ed with the Movement, the Working out chess openings?” world-wide revolution out — as "I’m sorry, Mr.