The Book of Philip K Dick (1973) Read Free Page B

Jean observed.
    “That’s true,” Bobby admitted. He thumped the green side loyally. “But ours is nicer. Isn’t she?”
    Their Nanny did not move. Surprised, he turned to look. The green Nanny stood rigid, taut. Its better eye stalk was far out, staring at the orange Nanny fixedly, unwinkingly.
    “What’s the matter?” Bobby asked uncomfortably.
    “Nanny, what’s the matter?” Jean echoed.
    The green Nanny whirred, as its gears meshed. Its treads dropped and locked into place with a sharp metallic snap. Slowly its doors retracted and its grapples slithered out.
    “Nanny, what are you doing?” Jean scrambled nervously to her feet. Bobby leaped up, too. “Nanny! What’s going on?”
    “Let’s go.” Jean said, frightened. “Let’s go home.”
    “Come on, Nanny,” Bobby ordered. “We’re going home, now.”
    The green Nanny moved away from them; it was totally unaware of their existence. Down the lake-side the other Nanny, the great orange Nanny, detached itself from the little girl and began to flow.
    “Nanny, you come back!” the little girl’s voice came, shrill and apprehensive.
    Jean and Bobby rushed up the sloping lawn, away from the lake. “She’ll come!” Bobby said. “Nanny! Please come!”
    But the Nanny did not come.
    The orange Nanny neared. It was huge, much more immense than the blue Mecho jaw-model that had come into the back yard that night. That one now lay scattered in pieces on the far side of the fence, hull ripped open, its parts strewn everywhere.
    This Nanny was the largest the green Nanny had ever seen. The green Nanny moved awkwardly to meet it, raising its grapples and preparing its internal shields. But the orange Nanny was unbending a. square arm of metal, mounted on a long cable. The metal arm whipped out, rising high in the air. It began to whirl in a circle, gathering ominous velocity, faster and faster.
    The green Nanny hesitated. It retreated, moving uncertainly away from the swinging mace of metal. And as it rested warily, unhappily, trying to make up its mind, the other leaped.
    “Nanny!” Jean screamed.
    “Nanny! Nanny!”
    The two metal bodies rolled furiously in the grass, fighting and struggling desperately. Again and again the metal mace came, bashing wildly into the green side. The warm sun shone benignly down on them. The surface of the lake eddied gently in the wind.
    “Nanny!” Bobby screamed, helplessly jumping up and down.
    But there was no response from the frenzied, twisting mass of crashing orange and green.
    “What are you going to do?” Mary Fields asked, tight-lipped and pale.
    “You stay here.” Tom grabbed up his coat and threw it on; he yanked his hat down from the closet shelf and strode toward the front door.
    “Where are you going?”
    “Is the cruiser out front?” Tom pulled open the front door and made his way out onto the porch. The two children, miserable and trembling, watched him fearfully.
    “Yes,” Mary murmured, “it’s out front. But where—”
    Tom turned abruptly to the children. “You’re sure she’s—dead?”
    Bobby nodded. His face was streaked with grimy tears. “Pieces … all over the lawn.”
    Tom nodded grimly. “I’ll be right back. And don’t worry at all. You three stay here.”
    He strode down the front steps, down the walk, to the parked cruiser. A moment later they heard him drive furiously away.
    He had to go to several agencies before he found what he wanted. Service Industries had nothing he could use; he was through with them. It was at Allied Domestic that he saw exactly what he was looking for, displayed in their luxurious, well-lighted window. They were just closing, but the clerk let him inside when he saw the expression on his face.
    “I’ll take it,” Tom said, reaching into his coat for his checkbook.
    “Which one, sir?” the clerk faltered.
    “The big one. The big black one in the window. With the four arms and the ram in front.”
    The clerk beamed, his face aglow with