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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28554-h.zip b/28554-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bdd8105 --- /dev/null +++ b/28554-h.zip diff --git a/28554-h/28554-h.htm b/28554-h/28554-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a00efc3 --- /dev/null +++ b/28554-h/28554-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1040 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Beyond Lies the Wub, by Philip K. Dick + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {font-weight: normal;} + h1,h2,.figc,.hd1 {text-align: center;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 1em auto; visibility: hidden;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .figc {margin: 0 auto 2em; width: 500px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + img {border: none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .hd1 {margin: 3em auto;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beyond Lies the Wub, by Philip Kindred Dick + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Beyond Lies the Wub + +Author: Philip Kindred Dick + +Illustrator: Herman Vestal + +Release Date: April 11, 2009 [EBook #28554] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEYOND LIES THE WUB *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figc"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="500" height="495" alt="" title="" /> +<b><i>"The wub, sir," Peterson said. "It spoke!"</i></b></div> + +<h1><big>BEYOND LIES THE WUB</big></h1> + +<h2><big>By PHILIP K. DICK</big></h2> + +<p class="hd1"><i><big>The slovenly wub might well have said: Many men<br /> +talk like philosophers and live like fools.</big></i></p> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">They</span> had almost finished with the +loading. Outside stood the Optus, his +arms folded, his face sunk in gloom. +Captain Franco walked leisurely down the +gangplank, grinning.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he said. "You're +getting paid for all this."</p> + +<p>The Optus said nothing. He turned away, +collecting his robes. The Captain put his +boot on the hem of the robe.</p> + +<p>"Just a minute. Don't go off. I'm not +finished."</p> + +<p>"Oh?" The Optus turned with dignity. "I +am going back to the village." He looked +toward the animals and birds being driven +up the gangplank into the spaceship. "I +must organize new hunts."</p> + +<p>Franco lit a cigarette. "Why not? You +people can go out into the veldt and track +it all down again. But when we run out +halfway between Mars and Earth—"</p> + +<p>The Optus went off, wordless. Franco +joined the first mate at the bottom of the +gangplank.</p> + +<p>"How's it coming?" he said. He looked +at his watch. "We got a good bargain +here."</p> + +<p>The mate glanced at him sourly. "How +do you explain that?"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you? We need +it more than they do."</p> + +<p>"I'll see you later, Captain." The mate +threaded his way up the plank, between the +long-legged Martian go-birds, into the ship. +Franco watched him disappear. He was just +starting up after him, up the plank toward +the port, when he saw <i>it</i>.</p> + +<p>"My God!" He stood staring, his hands +on his hips. Peterson was walking along +the path, his face red, leading <i>it</i> by a string.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Captain," he said, tugging at +the string. Franco walked toward him.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>The wub stood sagging, its great body +settling slowly. It was sitting down, its eyes +half shut. A few flies buzzed about its flank, +and it switched its tail.</p> + +<p><i>It</i> sat. There was silence.</p> + +<p>"It's a wub," Peterson said. "I got it from +a native for fifty cents. He said it was a +very unusual animal. Very respected."</p> + +<p>"This?" Franco poked the great sloping +side of the wub. "It's a pig! A huge dirty +pig!"</p> + +<p>"Yes sir, it's a pig. The natives call it a +wub."</p> + +<p>"A huge pig. It must weigh four hundred +pounds." Franco grabbed a tuft of the +rough hair. The wub gasped. Its eyes +opened, small and moist. Then its great +mouth twitched.</p> + +<p>A tear rolled down the wub's cheek and +splashed on the floor.</p> + +<p>"Maybe it's good to eat," Peterson said +nervously.</p> + +<p>"We'll soon find out," Franco said.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> wub survived the take-off, sound +asleep in the hold of the ship. When +they were out in space and everything was +running smoothly, Captain Franco bade his +men fetch the wub upstairs so that he might +perceive what manner of beast it was.</p> + +<p>The wub grunted and wheezed, squeezing +up the passageway.</p> + +<p>"Come on," Jones grated, pulling at the +rope. The wub twisted, rubbing its skin off +on the smooth chrome walls. It burst into +the ante-room, tumbling down in a heap. +The men leaped up.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord," French said. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Peterson says it's a wub," Jones said. +"It belongs to him." He kicked at the wub. +The wub stood up unsteadily, panting.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with it?" French came +over. "Is it going to be sick?"</p> + +<p>They watched. The wub rolled its eyes +mournfully. It gazed around at the men.</p> + +<p>"I think it's thirsty," Peterson said. He +went to get some water. French shook his +head.</p> + +<p>"No wonder we had so much trouble taking +off. I had to reset all my ballast calculations."</p> + +<p>Peterson came back with the water. The +wub began to lap gratefully, splashing the +men.</p> + +<p>Captain Franco appeared at the door.</p> + +<p>"Let's have a look at it." He advanced, +squinting critically. "You got this for fifty +cents?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Peterson said. "It eats almost +anything. I fed it on grain and it liked that. +And then potatoes, and mash, and scraps +from the table, and milk. It seems to enjoy +eating. After it eats it lies down and goes +to sleep."</p> + +<p>"I see," Captain Franco said. "Now, as +to its taste. That's the real question. I doubt +if there's much point in fattening it up any +more. It seems fat enough to me already. +Where's the cook? I want him here. I want +to find out—"</p> + +<p>The wub stopped lapping and looked up +at the Captain.</p> + +<p>"Really, Captain," the wub said. "I suggest +we talk of other matters."</p> + +<p>The room was silent.</p> + +<p>"What was that?" Franco said. "Just +now."</p> + +<p>"The wub, sir," Peterson said. "It spoke."</p> + +<p>They all looked at the wub.</p> + +<p>"What did it say? What did it say?"</p> + +<p>"It suggested we talk about other things."</p> + +<p>Franco walked toward the wub. He went +all around it, examining it from every side. +Then he came back over and stood with the +men.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if there's a native inside it," +he said thoughtfully. "Maybe we should +open it up and have a look."</p> + +<p>"Oh, goodness!" the wub cried. "Is that +all you people can think of, killing and cutting?"</p> + +<p>Franco clenched his fists. "Come out of +there! Whoever you are, come out!"</p> + +<p>Nothing stirred. The men stood together, +their faces blank, staring at the wub. The +wub swished its tail. It belched suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," the wub said.</p> + +<p>"I don't think there's anyone in there," +Jones said in a low voice. They all looked +at each other.</p> + +<p>The cook came in.</p> + +<p>"You wanted me, Captain?" he said. +"What's this thing?"</p> + +<p>"This is a wub," Franco said. "It's to be +eaten. Will you measure it and figure out—"</p> + +<p>"I think we should have a talk," the wub +said. "I'd like to discuss this with you, +Captain, if I might. I can see that you and +I do not agree on some basic issues."</p> + +<p>The Captain took a long time to answer. +The wub waited good-naturedly, licking the +water from its jowls.</p> + +<p>"Come into my office," the Captain said +at last. He turned and walked out of the +room. The wub rose and padded after him. +The men watched it go out. They heard it +climbing the stairs.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what the outcome will be," the +cook said. "Well, I'll be in the kitchen. Let +me know as soon as you hear."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Jones said. "Sure."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> wub eased itself down in the corner +with a sigh. "You must forgive me," it +said. "I'm afraid I'm addicted to various +forms of relaxation. When one is as large +as I—"</p> + +<p>The Captain nodded impatiently. He sat +down at his desk and folded his hands.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said. "Let's get started. +You're a wub? Is that correct?"</p> + +<p>The wub shrugged. "I suppose so. That's +what they call us, the natives, I mean. We +have our own term."</p> + +<p>"And you speak English? You've been in +contact with Earthmen before?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Then how do you do it?"</p> + +<p>"Speak English? Am I speaking English? +I'm not conscious of speaking anything in +particular. I examined your mind—"</p> + +<p>"My mind?"</p> + +<p>"I studied the contents, especially the +semantic warehouse, as I refer to it—"</p> + +<p>"I see," the Captain said. "Telepathy. Of +course."</p> + +<p>"We are a very old race," the wub said. +"Very old and very ponderous. It is difficult +for us to move around. You can appreciate +that anything so slow and heavy would be +at the mercy of more agile forms of life. +There was no use in our relying on physical +defenses. How could we win? Too heavy to +run, too soft to fight, too good-natured to +hunt for game—"</p> + +<p>"How do you live?"</p> + +<p>"Plants. Vegetables. We can eat almost +anything. We're very catholic. Tolerant, +eclectic, catholic. We live and let live. That's +how we've gotten along."</p> + +<p>The wub eyed the Captain.</p> + +<p>"And that's why I so violently objected +to this business about having me boiled. I +could see the image in your mind—most +of me in the frozen food locker, some of +me in the kettle, a bit for your pet cat—"</p> + +<p>"So you read minds?" the Captain said. +"How interesting. Anything else? I mean, +what else can you do along those lines?"</p> + +<p>"A few odds and ends," the wub said +absently, staring around the room. "A nice +apartment you have here, Captain. You +keep it quite neat. I respect life-forms that +are tidy. Some Martian birds are quite tidy. +They throw things out of their nests and +sweep them—"</p> + +<p>"Indeed." The Captain nodded. "But to +get back to the problem—"</p> + +<p>"Quite so. You spoke of dining on me. +The taste, I am told, is good. A little fatty, +but tender. But how can any lasting contact +be established between your people and +mine if you resort to such barbaric attitudes? +Eat me? Rather you should discuss questions +with me, philosophy, the arts—"</p> + +<p>The Captain stood up. "Philosophy. It +might interest you to know that we will be +hard put to find something to eat for the +next month. An unfortunate spoilage—"</p> + +<p>"I know." The wub nodded. "But +wouldn't it be more in accord with your +principles of democracy if we all drew +straws, or something along that line? After +all, democracy is to protect the minority +from just such infringements. Now, if each +of us casts one vote—"</p> + +<p>The Captain walked to the door.</p> + +<p>"Nuts to you," he said. He opened the +door. He opened his mouth.</p> + +<p>He stood frozen, his mouth wide, his eyes +staring, his fingers still on the knob.</p> + +<p>The wub watched him. Presently it +padded out of the room, edging past the +Captain. It went down the hall, deep in +meditation.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> room was quiet.</p> + +<p>"So you see," the wub said, "we have +a common myth. Your mind contains many +familiar myth symbols. Ishtar, Odysseus—"</p> + +<p>Peterson sat silently, staring at the floor. +He shifted in his chair.</p> + +<p>"Go on," he said. "Please go on."</p> + +<p>"I find in your Odysseus a figure common +to the mythology of most self-conscious +races. As I interpret it, Odysseus wanders +as an individual, aware of himself as +such. This is the idea of separation, of +separation from family and country. The +process of individuation."</p> + +<p>"But Odysseus returns to his home." +Peterson looked out the port window, at the +stars, endless stars, burning intently in the +empty universe. "Finally he goes home."</p> + +<p>"As must all creatures. The moment of +separation is a temporary period, a brief +journey of the soul. It begins, it ends. The +wanderer returns to land and race...."</p> + +<p>The door opened. The wub stopped, turning +its great head.</p> + +<p>Captain Franco came into the room, the +men behind him. They hesitated at the door.</p> + +<p>"Are you all right?" French said.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean me?" Peterson said, surprised. +"Why me?"</p> + +<p>Franco lowered his gun. "Come over +here," he said to Peterson. "Get up and +come here."</p> + +<p>There was silence.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," the wub said. "It doesn't +matter."</p> + +<p>Peterson stood up. "What for?"</p> + +<p>"It's an order."</p> + +<p>Peterson walked to the door. French +caught his arm.</p> + +<p>"What's going on?" Peterson wrenched +loose. "What's the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>Captain Franco moved toward the wub. +The wub looked up from where it lay in the +corner, pressed against the wall.</p> + +<p>"It is interesting," the wub said, "that +you are obsessed with the idea of eating me. +I wonder why."</p> + +<p>"Get up," Franco said.</p> + +<p>"If you wish." The wub rose, grunting. +"Be patient. It is difficult for me." It stood, +gasping, its tongue lolling foolishly.</p> + +<p>"Shoot it now," French said.</p> + +<p>"For God's sake!" Peterson exclaimed. +Jones turned to him quickly, his eyes gray +with fear.</p> + +<p>"You didn't see him—like a statue, +standing there, his mouth open. If we hadn't +come down, he'd still be there."</p> + +<p>"Who? The Captain?" Peterson stared +around. "But he's all right now."</p> + +<p>They looked at the wub, standing in the +middle of the room, its great chest rising +and falling.</p> + +<p>"Come on," Franco said. "Out of the +way."</p> + +<p>The men pulled aside toward the door.</p> + +<p>"You are quite afraid, aren't you?" the +wub said. "Have I done anything to you? +I am against the idea of hurting. All I have +done is try to protect myself. Can you expect +me to rush eagerly to my death? I am a +sensible being like yourselves. I was curious +to see your ship, learn about you. I suggested +to the native—"</p> + +<p>The gun jerked.</p> + +<p>"See," Franco said. "I thought so."</p> + +<p>The wub settled down, panting. It put its +paw out, pulling its tail around it.</p> + +<p>"It is very warm," the wub said. "I understand +that we are close to the jets. +Atomic power. You have done many wonderful +things with it—technically. Apparently, +your scientific hierarchy is not +equipped to solve moral, ethical—"</p> + +<p>Franco turned to the men, crowding behind +him, wide-eyed, silent.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it. You can watch."</p> + +<p>French nodded. "Try to hit the brain. It's +no good for eating. Don't hit the chest. If +the rib cage shatters, we'll have to pick +bones out."</p> + +<p>"Listen," Peterson said, licking his lips. +"Has it done anything? What harm has it +done? I'm asking you. And anyhow, it's +still mine. You have no right to shoot it. It +doesn't belong to you."</p> + +<p>Franco raised his gun.</p> + +<p>"I'm going out," Jones said, his face +white and sick. "I don't want to see it."</p> + +<p>"Me, too," French said. The men +straggled out, murmuring. Peterson lingered +at the door.</p> + +<p>"It was talking to me about myths," he +said. "It wouldn't hurt anyone."</p> + +<p>He went outside.</p> + +<p>Franco walked toward the wub. The wub +looked up slowly. It swallowed.</p> + +<p>"A very foolish thing," it said. "I am +sorry that you want to do it. There was a +parable that your Saviour related—"</p> + +<p>It stopped, staring at the gun.</p> + +<p>"Can you look me in the eye and do it?" +the wub said. "Can you do that?"</p> + +<p>The Captain gazed down. "I can look +you in the eye," he said. "Back on the farm +we had hogs, dirty razor-back hogs. I can +do it."</p> + +<p>Staring down at the wub, into the gleaming, +moist eyes, he pressed the trigger.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> taste was excellent.</p> + +<p>They sat glumly around the table, +some of them hardly eating at all. The only +one who seemed to be enjoying himself was +Captain Franco.</p> + +<p>"More?" he said, looking around. "More? +And some wine, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Not me," French said. "I think I'll go +back to the chart room."</p> + +<p>"Me, too." Jones stood up, pushing his +chair back. "I'll see you later."</p> + +<p>The Captain watched them go. Some of +the others excused themselves.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose the matter is?" +the Captain said. He turned to Peterson. +Peterson sat staring down at his plate, at +the potatoes, the green peas, and at the +thick slab of tender, warm meat.</p> + +<p>He opened his mouth. No sound came.</p> + +<p>The Captain put his hand on Peterson's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"It is only organic matter, now," he said. +"The life essence is gone." He ate, spooning +up the gravy with some bread. "I, myself, +love to eat. It is one of the greatest things +that a living creature can enjoy. Eating, +resting, meditation, discussing things."</p> + +<p>Peterson nodded. Two more men got up +and went out. The Captain drank some +water and sighed.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said. "I must say that this +was a very enjoyable meal. All the reports +I had heard were quite true—the taste of +wub. Very fine. But I was prevented from +enjoying this pleasure in times past."</p> + +<p>He dabbed at his lips with his napkin and +leaned back in his chair. Peterson stared dejectedly +at the table.</p> + +<p>The Captain watched him intently. He +leaned over.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," he said. "Cheer up! Let's +discuss things."</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p>"As I was saying before I was interrupted, +the role of Odysseus in the +myths—"</p> + +<p>Peterson jerked up, staring.</p> + +<p>"To go on," the Captain said. "Odysseus, +as I understand him—"</p> + +<div class="trn"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> +This etext was produced from <i>Planet Stories</i> July 1952. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Beyond Lies the Wub, by Philip Kindred Dick + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEYOND LIES THE WUB *** + +***** This file should be named 28554-h.htm or 28554-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/5/5/28554/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Beyond Lies the Wub + +Author: Philip Kindred Dick + +Illustrator: Herman Vestal + +Release Date: April 11, 2009 [EBook #28554] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEYOND LIES THE WUB *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: _"The wub, sir," Peterson said. "It spoke!"_] + + + BEYOND LIES THE WUB + + By PHILIP K. DICK + + + _The slovenly wub might well have said: Many men + talk like philosophers and live like fools._ + + +They had almost finished with the loading. Outside stood the Optus, his +arms folded, his face sunk in gloom. Captain Franco walked leisurely +down the gangplank, grinning. + +"What's the matter?" he said. "You're getting paid for all this." + +The Optus said nothing. He turned away, collecting his robes. The +Captain put his boot on the hem of the robe. + +"Just a minute. Don't go off. I'm not finished." + +"Oh?" The Optus turned with dignity. "I am going back to the village." +He looked toward the animals and birds being driven up the gangplank +into the spaceship. "I must organize new hunts." + +Franco lit a cigarette. "Why not? You people can go out into the veldt +and track it all down again. But when we run out halfway between Mars +and Earth--" + +The Optus went off, wordless. Franco joined the first mate at the bottom +of the gangplank. + +"How's it coming?" he said. He looked at his watch. "We got a good +bargain here." + +The mate glanced at him sourly. "How do you explain that?" + +"What's the matter with you? We need it more than they do." + +"I'll see you later, Captain." The mate threaded his way up the plank, +between the long-legged Martian go-birds, into the ship. Franco watched +him disappear. He was just starting up after him, up the plank toward +the port, when he saw _it_. + +"My God!" He stood staring, his hands on his hips. Peterson was walking +along the path, his face red, leading _it_ by a string. + +"I'm sorry, Captain," he said, tugging at the string. Franco walked +toward him. + +"What is it?" + +The wub stood sagging, its great body settling slowly. It was sitting +down, its eyes half shut. A few flies buzzed about its flank, and it +switched its tail. + +_It_ sat. There was silence. + +"It's a wub," Peterson said. "I got it from a native for fifty cents. He +said it was a very unusual animal. Very respected." + +"This?" Franco poked the great sloping side of the wub. "It's a pig! A +huge dirty pig!" + +"Yes sir, it's a pig. The natives call it a wub." + +"A huge pig. It must weigh four hundred pounds." Franco grabbed a tuft +of the rough hair. The wub gasped. Its eyes opened, small and moist. +Then its great mouth twitched. + +A tear rolled down the wub's cheek and splashed on the floor. + +"Maybe it's good to eat," Peterson said nervously. + +"We'll soon find out," Franco said. + + * * * * * + +The wub survived the take-off, sound asleep in the hold of the ship. +When they were out in space and everything was running smoothly, Captain +Franco bade his men fetch the wub upstairs so that he might perceive +what manner of beast it was. + +The wub grunted and wheezed, squeezing up the passageway. + +"Come on," Jones grated, pulling at the rope. The wub twisted, rubbing +its skin off on the smooth chrome walls. It burst into the ante-room, +tumbling down in a heap. The men leaped up. + +"Good Lord," French said. "What is it?" + +"Peterson says it's a wub," Jones said. "It belongs to him." He kicked +at the wub. The wub stood up unsteadily, panting. + +"What's the matter with it?" French came over. "Is it going to be sick?" + +They watched. The wub rolled its eyes mournfully. It gazed around at the +men. + +"I think it's thirsty," Peterson said. He went to get some water. French +shook his head. + +"No wonder we had so much trouble taking off. I had to reset all my +ballast calculations." + +Peterson came back with the water. The wub began to lap gratefully, +splashing the men. + +Captain Franco appeared at the door. + +"Let's have a look at it." He advanced, squinting critically. "You got +this for fifty cents?" + +"Yes, sir," Peterson said. "It eats almost anything. I fed it on grain +and it liked that. And then potatoes, and mash, and scraps from the +table, and milk. It seems to enjoy eating. After it eats it lies down +and goes to sleep." + +"I see," Captain Franco said. "Now, as to its taste. That's the real +question. I doubt if there's much point in fattening it up any more. It +seems fat enough to me already. Where's the cook? I want him here. I +want to find out--" + +The wub stopped lapping and looked up at the Captain. + +"Really, Captain," the wub said. "I suggest we talk of other matters." + +The room was silent. + +"What was that?" Franco said. "Just now." + +"The wub, sir," Peterson said. "It spoke." + +They all looked at the wub. + +"What did it say? What did it say?" + +"It suggested we talk about other things." + +Franco walked toward the wub. He went all around it, examining it from +every side. Then he came back over and stood with the men. + +"I wonder if there's a native inside it," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe +we should open it up and have a look." + +"Oh, goodness!" the wub cried. "Is that all you people can think of, +killing and cutting?" + +Franco clenched his fists. "Come out of there! Whoever you are, come +out!" + +Nothing stirred. The men stood together, their faces blank, staring at +the wub. The wub swished its tail. It belched suddenly. + +"I beg your pardon," the wub said. + +"I don't think there's anyone in there," Jones said in a low voice. They +all looked at each other. + +The cook came in. + +"You wanted me, Captain?" he said. "What's this thing?" + +"This is a wub," Franco said. "It's to be eaten. Will you measure it and +figure out--" + +"I think we should have a talk," the wub said. "I'd like to discuss this +with you, Captain, if I might. I can see that you and I do not agree on +some basic issues." + +The Captain took a long time to answer. The wub waited good-naturedly, +licking the water from its jowls. + +"Come into my office," the Captain said at last. He turned and walked +out of the room. The wub rose and padded after him. The men watched it +go out. They heard it climbing the stairs. + +"I wonder what the outcome will be," the cook said. "Well, I'll be in +the kitchen. Let me know as soon as you hear." + +"Sure," Jones said. "Sure." + + * * * * * + +The wub eased itself down in the corner with a sigh. "You must forgive +me," it said. "I'm afraid I'm addicted to various forms of relaxation. +When one is as large as I--" + +The Captain nodded impatiently. He sat down at his desk and folded his +hands. + +"All right," he said. "Let's get started. You're a wub? Is that +correct?" + +The wub shrugged. "I suppose so. That's what they call us, the natives, +I mean. We have our own term." + +"And you speak English? You've been in contact with Earthmen before?" + +"No." + +"Then how do you do it?" + +"Speak English? Am I speaking English? I'm not conscious of speaking +anything in particular. I examined your mind--" + +"My mind?" + +"I studied the contents, especially the semantic warehouse, as I refer +to it--" + +"I see," the Captain said. "Telepathy. Of course." + +"We are a very old race," the wub said. "Very old and very ponderous. It +is difficult for us to move around. You can appreciate that anything so +slow and heavy would be at the mercy of more agile forms of life. There +was no use in our relying on physical defenses. How could we win? Too +heavy to run, too soft to fight, too good-natured to hunt for game--" + +"How do you live?" + +"Plants. Vegetables. We can eat almost anything. We're very catholic. +Tolerant, eclectic, catholic. We live and let live. That's how we've +gotten along." + +The wub eyed the Captain. + +"And that's why I so violently objected to this business about having me +boiled. I could see the image in your mind--most of me in the frozen +food locker, some of me in the kettle, a bit for your pet cat--" + +"So you read minds?" the Captain said. "How interesting. Anything else? +I mean, what else can you do along those lines?" + +"A few odds and ends," the wub said absently, staring around the room. +"A nice apartment you have here, Captain. You keep it quite neat. I +respect life-forms that are tidy. Some Martian birds are quite tidy. +They throw things out of their nests and sweep them--" + +"Indeed." The Captain nodded. "But to get back to the problem--" + +"Quite so. You spoke of dining on me. The taste, I am told, is good. A +little fatty, but tender. But how can any lasting contact be established +between your people and mine if you resort to such barbaric attitudes? +Eat me? Rather you should discuss questions with me, philosophy, the +arts--" + +The Captain stood up. "Philosophy. It might interest you to know that we +will be hard put to find something to eat for the next month. An +unfortunate spoilage--" + +"I know." The wub nodded. "But wouldn't it be more in accord with your +principles of democracy if we all drew straws, or something along that +line? After all, democracy is to protect the minority from just such +infringements. Now, if each of us casts one vote--" + +The Captain walked to the door. + +"Nuts to you," he said. He opened the door. He opened his mouth. + +He stood frozen, his mouth wide, his eyes staring, his fingers still on +the knob. + +The wub watched him. Presently it padded out of the room, edging past +the Captain. It went down the hall, deep in meditation. + + * * * * * + +The room was quiet. + +"So you see," the wub said, "we have a common myth. Your mind contains +many familiar myth symbols. Ishtar, Odysseus--" + +Peterson sat silently, staring at the floor. He shifted in his chair. + +"Go on," he said. "Please go on." + +"I find in your Odysseus a figure common to the mythology of most +self-conscious races. As I interpret it, Odysseus wanders as an +individual, aware of himself as such. This is the idea of separation, of +separation from family and country. The process of individuation." + +"But Odysseus returns to his home." Peterson looked out the port window, +at the stars, endless stars, burning intently in the empty universe. +"Finally he goes home." + +"As must all creatures. The moment of separation is a temporary period, +a brief journey of the soul. It begins, it ends. The wanderer returns to +land and race...." + +The door opened. The wub stopped, turning its great head. + +Captain Franco came into the room, the men behind him. They hesitated at +the door. + +"Are you all right?" French said. + +"Do you mean me?" Peterson said, surprised. "Why me?" + +Franco lowered his gun. "Come over here," he said to Peterson. "Get up +and come here." + +There was silence. + +"Go ahead," the wub said. "It doesn't matter." + +Peterson stood up. "What for?" + +"It's an order." + +Peterson walked to the door. French caught his arm. + +"What's going on?" Peterson wrenched loose. "What's the matter with +you?" + +Captain Franco moved toward the wub. The wub looked up from where it lay +in the corner, pressed against the wall. + +"It is interesting," the wub said, "that you are obsessed with the idea +of eating me. I wonder why." + +"Get up," Franco said. + +"If you wish." The wub rose, grunting. "Be patient. It is difficult for +me." It stood, gasping, its tongue lolling foolishly. + +"Shoot it now," French said. + +"For God's sake!" Peterson exclaimed. Jones turned to him quickly, his +eyes gray with fear. + +"You didn't see him--like a statue, standing there, his mouth open. If +we hadn't come down, he'd still be there." + +"Who? The Captain?" Peterson stared around. "But he's all right now." + +They looked at the wub, standing in the middle of the room, its great +chest rising and falling. + +"Come on," Franco said. "Out of the way." + +The men pulled aside toward the door. + +"You are quite afraid, aren't you?" the wub said. "Have I done anything +to you? I am against the idea of hurting. All I have done is try to +protect myself. Can you expect me to rush eagerly to my death? I am a +sensible being like yourselves. I was curious to see your ship, learn +about you. I suggested to the native--" + +The gun jerked. + +"See," Franco said. "I thought so." + +The wub settled down, panting. It put its paw out, pulling its tail +around it. + +"It is very warm," the wub said. "I understand that we are close to the +jets. Atomic power. You have done many wonderful things with +it--technically. Apparently, your scientific hierarchy is not equipped +to solve moral, ethical--" + +Franco turned to the men, crowding behind him, wide-eyed, silent. + +"I'll do it. You can watch." + +French nodded. "Try to hit the brain. It's no good for eating. Don't hit +the chest. If the rib cage shatters, we'll have to pick bones out." + +"Listen," Peterson said, licking his lips. "Has it done anything? What +harm has it done? I'm asking you. And anyhow, it's still mine. You have +no right to shoot it. It doesn't belong to you." + +Franco raised his gun. + +"I'm going out," Jones said, his face white and sick. "I don't want to +see it." + +"Me, too," French said. The men straggled out, murmuring. Peterson +lingered at the door. + +"It was talking to me about myths," he said. "It wouldn't hurt anyone." + +He went outside. + +Franco walked toward the wub. The wub looked up slowly. It swallowed. + +"A very foolish thing," it said. "I am sorry that you want to do it. +There was a parable that your Saviour related--" + +It stopped, staring at the gun. + +"Can you look me in the eye and do it?" the wub said. "Can you do that?" + +The Captain gazed down. "I can look you in the eye," he said. "Back on +the farm we had hogs, dirty razor-back hogs. I can do it." + +Staring down at the wub, into the gleaming, moist eyes, he pressed the +trigger. + + * * * * * + +The taste was excellent. + +They sat glumly around the table, some of them hardly eating at all. The +only one who seemed to be enjoying himself was Captain Franco. + +"More?" he said, looking around. "More? And some wine, perhaps." + +"Not me," French said. "I think I'll go back to the chart room." + +"Me, too." Jones stood up, pushing his chair back. "I'll see you later." + +The Captain watched them go. Some of the others excused themselves. + +"What do you suppose the matter is?" the Captain said. He turned to +Peterson. Peterson sat staring down at his plate, at the potatoes, the +green peas, and at the thick slab of tender, warm meat. + +He opened his mouth. No sound came. + +The Captain put his hand on Peterson's shoulder. + +"It is only organic matter, now," he said. "The life essence is gone." +He ate, spooning up the gravy with some bread. "I, myself, love to eat. +It is one of the greatest things that a living creature can enjoy. +Eating, resting, meditation, discussing things." + +Peterson nodded. Two more men got up and went out. The Captain drank +some water and sighed. + +"Well," he said. "I must say that this was a very enjoyable meal. All +the reports I had heard were quite true--the taste of wub. Very fine. +But I was prevented from enjoying this pleasure in times past." + +He dabbed at his lips with his napkin and leaned back in his chair. +Peterson stared dejectedly at the table. + +The Captain watched him intently. He leaned over. + +"Come, come," he said. "Cheer up! Let's discuss things." + +He smiled. + +"As I was saying before I was interrupted, the role of Odysseus in the +myths--" + +Peterson jerked up, staring. + +"To go on," the Captain said. "Odysseus, as I understand him--" + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Planet Stories_ July 1952. Extensive + research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on + this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical + errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Beyond Lies the Wub, by Philip Kindred Dick + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEYOND LIES THE WUB *** + +***** This file should be named 28554.txt or 28554.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/5/5/28554/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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