The Simulacra by Philip K Dick

Author:Philip K Dick [Dick, Philip K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Politics, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780547572505
Google: eNeFanwfqVUC
Amazon: B007K4HMXW
Barnesnoble: B007K4HMXW
Goodreads: 226460
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 1964-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

TEN

The army major, thin, small and erect, said, “Frau Thibodeaux, this is the Reichsmarschall, Herr Hermann Goering.”

The heavily-built man, wearing—incredibly—a toga-style white robe and holding on a leather leash what appeared to be a lion cub, stepped forward and said in German, “I am glad to meet you, Mrs. Thibodeaux.”

“Reichsmarschall,” Nicole said, “do you know where you are at this moment?”

“Yes,” Goering nodded. To the lion cub he said severely, “Sei ruhig, Marsi.” He fussed with the cub, calming it.

All this Bertold Goltz watched. He had gone slightly ahead in time, by use of his own von Lessinger equipment; he had become impatient waiting for Nicole to arrange the transfer of Goering. Here it was now; or rather, here it would be in seven more hours.

It was easy, possessing von Lessinger equipment, to penetrate the White House despite its NP guards; Goltz had merely gone far back into the past, before the White House existed, and then had returned to this near future. He had done such a thing several times already and would do it again; he knew that because he had run onto his future self, caught in the act. It amused him, that meeting; not only was he able to observe Nicole freely but he could also observe his past and future selves—the future, at least, in terms of possibility. Of potentiality, rather than actuality. The vista spread out for his inspection of the perhaps.

They will make a deal, Goltz decided. Nicole and Goering; the Reichsmarschall, taken first from 1941 and then from 1944 will be shown the ruined Germany of 1945, will see the end in store for the Nazis—will see himself in the dock at Nuremberg, and, at last, will view his own suicide by a poison carried in a rectal suppository. This will rather influence him, to say the least. A deal will not be difficult to hatch out; the Nazis, even normally, were experts at deals.

A few miracle weapons from the future, appearing at the end of World War Two, and the Age of Barbarism would last—not thirteen years—but, as Hitler had sworn, a thousand. A death ray, laser beams, hydrogen bombs in the 100 megaton range … it would assist the armed forces of the Third Reich considerably. Plus, of course, the A-1 and the A-2; or, as the Allies had called them, the V-1 and V-2. Now the Nazis would have an A-3, A-4, and so on, without limit, if necessary.

Goltz frowned. For, in addition to this, other possibilities, murky and dense, spread out parallel with an almost occult darkness surrounding them. What did these less-likely futures consist of? Dangerous, and yet surely better than the clear one, the track laden with miracle weapons—

“You, there,” a White House NP man called, suddenly catching sight of Goltz, as he stood partially concealed in the corner of the Bog Orchid Room. The guard instantly whipped out a pistol and took aim.

The conference between Nicole Thibodeaux, Goering, and four military advisors abruptly terminated. All turned toward Goltz and the NP man.

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