Martian Time-Slip by Philip Dick

Martian Time-Slip by Philip Dick

Author:Philip Dick [Dick, Philip]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf_cyberpunk, sf_social, sf
Published: 2011-04-10T16:12:57+00:00

“I tell you,” Arnie Kott said to the girl beside him in the wide bed, “you’re really going to be delighted when we make contact with him--I mean, we got an inside track, there: we got the future, and where else do you think things happen except in the future?”

Stirring, Doreen Anderton murmured.

“Don’t go to sleep,” Arnie said, leaning over to light another cigarette. “Listen, guess what--a big-time land speculator came over from Earth, today; we had a union guy at the rocket terminal, and he recognized him, although naturally the speculator registered under an assumed name. We checked with the carrier, and he got right out of there, eluding our guy. I predicted they’d be showing up! Listen, when we hear from that Steiner kid, it’ll blow the lid off this whole thing. Right?” He shook the sleeping girl. “If you don’t wake up,” Arnie said, “I’m gonna shove you right out of bed on your ass, and you can walk home to your apartment.”

Doreen groaned, turned over, sat up. In the dim light of Arnie Kott’s master bedroom, she sat palely translucent, tucking her hair back from her eyes and yawning. One strap of her nightgown slipped down her arm, and Arnie saw with appreciation her high, hard left breast with its gem of a nipple set dead-center.

Gosh, I really got a gal, Arnie said to himself. She’s really something. And she’s done a terrific job in keeping that Bohlen from shucking it all and wandering off, the way those hebephrenic schizophrenics do--I mean, it’s almost impossible to keep them at the grindstone, they’re so moody and irresponsible. That guy Bohlen; he’s an idiot savant, an idiot who can fix things, and we have to cater to his idiocy, we have to yield. You can’t force a guy like that; he don’t force. Arnie took hold of the covers and tossed them aside, off Doreen; he smiled at her bare legs, smiled to see her draw her nightgown down to her knees.

“How can you be tired?” he asked her. “You ain’t done nothin’ but lie. Isn’t that so? Is lying there so hard?”

She eyed him narrowly. “No more,” she said.

“What?” he said. “You kidding? We just begun. Take off that nightgown.” Catching it by the hem he whisked it back up once more; he put his arm beneath her, lifted her up, and in an instant had it off over her head. He deposited it on the chair by the bed.

“I’m going to sleep,” Doreen said, closing her eyes. “If you don’t mind.”

“Why should I mind?” Arnie said. “You’re still there, aren’t you? Awake or asleep--you’re plenty there in the flesh, and how.”

“Ouch,” she protested.

“Sorry.” He kissed her on the mouth. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Her head lolled; she actually was going to sleep. Arnie felt offended. But what the hell--she never did much anyhow.

“Put my nightgown back on me,” Doreen murmured, “when you’re through.”

“Yeah, well I’m not through.” I’m good for an hour more, Arnie said to himself.



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