The Simulacra

by Philip K. Dick

Call your San Francisco unit and tell them to release the lot if they’ve found it. And if they haven’t found it, tell them to give up. Bring them back in and forget about it; when the time arrives to proceed against Luke I’ll tell you.” “Harold Slezak agreed—” “Slezak doesn’t make policy. I’m surprised you didn’t get Rudi Kalbfleisch’s approval on this. That would have been even more like you NP people. I really don’t like you—I find you unsavory.” She stared at him until he shrank back. “Well?” she said. “Say something.” With dignity, Pembroke said, “They haven’t found the lot, so no harm has been done.” He flicked on his com system. “Give up on the lots,” he said into it. At this moment he did not look very imposing; he was still perspiring freely. “Forget the whole damn thing. Yes, that’s right.” He clicked the system off and raised his head to face Nicole. “You should be busted,” Nicole said. “Anything else, Mrs. Thibodeaux?” Pembroke’s voice was wooden. “No. Scram.”