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- Филип Киндред Дик
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Again
strolling
along
the
sidewalk
with
her
shopping
bags
,
Juliana
thought
,
Maybe
Göring
will
be
the
new
Fuhrer
when
that
Bormann
dies
.
He
seems
sort
of
different
from
the
others
.
The
only
way
that
Bormann
got
it
in
the
first
place
was
to
weasel
in
when
Hitler
realized
how
fast
he
was
going
.
Old
Göring
was
off
in
his
mountain
palace
.
Göring
should
have
been
Fuhrer
after
Hitler
,
because
it
was
his
Luftwaffe
that
knocked
out
those
English
radar
stations
and
then
finished
off
the
RAF
.
Hitler
would
have
had
them
bomb
London
,
like
they
did
Rotterdam
.
But
probably
Goebbels
will
get
it
,
she
decided
.
That
was
what
everyone
said
.
As
long
as
that
awful
Heydrich
doesn
’
t
.
He
’
d
kill
us
all
.
He
’
s
really
bats
.
The
one
I
like
,
she
thought
,
is
that
Baldur
von
Schirach
.
He
’
s
the
only
one
who
looks
normal
,
anyhow
.
But
he
hasn
’
t
got
a
chance
.
Turning
,
she
ascended
the
steps
to
the
front
door
of
the
old
wooden
building
in
which
she
lived
.
When
she
unlocked
the
door
of
her
apartment
she
saw
Joe
Cinnadella
still
lying
where
she
had
left
him
,
in
the
center
of
the
bed
,
on
his
stomach
,
his
arms
dangling
.
He
was
still
asleep
.
No
,
she
thought
.
He
can
’
t
still
be
here
;
the
truck
’
s
gone
.
Did
he
miss
it
?
Obviously
.
Going
into
the
kitchen
,
she
set
her
grocery
bags
on
the
table
among
the
breakfast
dishes
.
But
did
he
intend
to
miss
it
?
she
asked
herself
.
That
’
s
what
I
wonder
.
What
a
peculiar
man
…
he
had
been
so
active
with
her
,
going
on
almost
all
night
.
And
yet
it
had
been
as
if
he
were
not
actually
there
,
doing
it
but
never
being
aware
.
Thoughts
on
something
else
,
maybe
.
