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- Филип Киндред Дик
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- Стр. 147/275
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"
You
let
him
?
"
He
could
not
believe
it
.
"
We
talked
it
over
—
"
"
I
don
’
t
know
how
come
.
"
"
Christ
,
"
Frink
said
.
"
I
’
m
sorry
.
He
acted
like
he
was
going
to
buy
it
.
He
picked
a
lot
out
.
I
thought
he
was
buying
.
"
They
sat
together
silently
in
the
truck
for
a
long
time
.
It
had
been
a
terrible
two
weeks
for
Mr
.
Baynes
.
From
his
hotel
room
he
had
called
the
Trade
Mission
every
day
at
noon
to
ask
if
the
old
gentleman
had
put
in
an
appearance
.
The
answer
had
been
an
unvarying
no
.
Mr
.
Tagomi
’
s
voice
had
become
colder
and
more
formal
each
day
.
As
Mr
.
Baynes
prepared
to
make
his
sixteenth
call
,
he
thought
,
Sooner
or
later
they
’
ll
tell
me
that
Mr
.
Tagomi
is
out
.
That
he
isn
’
t
accepting
any
more
calls
from
me
.
And
that
will
be
that
.
What
has
happened
?
Where
is
Mr
.
Yatabe
?
He
had
a
fairly
good
idea
.
The
death
of
Martin
Bormann
had
caused
immediate
consternation
in
Tokyo
.
Mr
.
Yatabe
no
doubt
had
been
en
route
to
San
Francisco
,
a
day
or
so
offshore
,
when
new
instructions
had
reached
him
.
Return
to
the
Home
Islands
for
further
consultation
.
Bad
luck
,
Mr
.
Baynes
realized
.
Possibly
even
fatal
.
But
he
had
to
remain
where
he
was
,
in
San
Francisco
.
Still
trying
to
arrange
the
meeting
for
which
he
had
come
.
Forty
-
five
minutes
by
Lufthansa
rocket
from
Berlin
,
and
now
this
.
A
weird
time
in
which
we
are
alive
.
We
can
travel
anywhere
we
want
,
even
to
other
planets
.
And
for
what
?
To
sit
day
after
day
,
declining
in
morale
and
hope
.
Falling
into
an
interminable
ennui
.
And
meanwhile
,
the
others
are
busy
.
They
are
not
sitting
helplessly
waiting
.
