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- Филип Киндред Дик
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I
thought
it
was
merely
plastics
,
he
thought
.
Important
mold
salesman
.
Oracle
guessed
and
gave
clue
,
but
—
"
Remove
his
shirt
,
"
a
voice
stated
.
No
doubt
building
’
s
physician
.
Highly
authoritative
tone
;
Mr
.
Tagomi
smiled
.
Tone
is
everything
.
Could
this
,
Mr
.
Tagomi
wondered
,
be
the
answer
?
Mystery
of
body
organism
,
its
own
knowledge
.
Time
to
quit
.
Or
time
partially
to
quit
.
A
purpose
,
which
I
must
acquiesce
to
.
What
had
the
oracle
last
said
?
To
his
query
in
the
office
as
those
two
lay
dying
or
dead
.
Sixty
-
one
.
Inner
Truth
.
Pigs
and
fishes
are
least
intelligent
of
all
;
hard
to
convince
.
It
is
I
.
The
book
means
me
.
I
will
never
fully
understand
;
that
is
the
nature
of
such
creatures
.
Or
is
this
Inner
Truth
now
,
this
that
is
happening
to
me
?
I
will
wait
.
I
will
see
.
Which
it
is
.
Perhaps
it
is
both
.
That
evening
,
just
after
the
dinner
meal
,
a
police
officer
came
to
Frank
Frink
’
s
cell
,
unlocked
the
door
,
and
told
him
to
go
pick
up
his
possessions
at
the
desk
.
Shortly
,
he
found
himself
out
on
the
sidewalk
before
the
Kearny
Street
Station
,
among
the
many
passers
-
by
hurrying
along
,
the
buses
and
honking
cars
and
yelling
pedecab
drivers
.
The
air
was
cold
.
Long
shadows
lay
before
each
building
.
Frank
Frink
stood
a
moment
and
then
he
fell
automatically
in
with
a
group
of
people
crossing
the
street
at
the
crosswalk
zone
.
Arrested
for
no
real
reason
,
he
thought
.
No
purpose
.
And
then
they
let
me
go
the
same
way
.
They
had
not
told
him
anything
,
had
simply
given
him
back
his
sack
of
clothes
,
wallet
,
watch
,
glasses
,
personal
articles
,
and
turned
to
their
next
business
,
an
elderly
drunk
brought
in
off
the
street
.
