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diff --git a/32832.txt b/32832.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe827f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/32832.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1450 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Piper in the Woods, by Philip K. 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: Piper in the Woods + +Author: Philip K. Dick + +Release Date: June 16, 2010 [EBook #32832] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIPER IN THE WOODS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration] + + + PIPER IN THE WOODS + + _By + Philip K. Dick_ + + + Earth maintained an important garrison on + Asteroid Y-3. Now suddenly it was imperiled with + a biological impossibility--men becoming plants! + + +"Well, Corporal Westerburg," Doctor Henry Harris said gently, "just why +do you think you're a plant?" + +As he spoke, Harris glanced down again at the card on his desk. It was +from the Base Commander himself, made out in Cox's heavy scrawl: _Doc, +this is the lad I told you about. Talk to him and try to find out how he +got this delusion. He's from the new Garrison, the new check-station on +Asteroid Y-3, and we don't want anything to go wrong there. Especially a +silly damn thing like this!_ + +Harris pushed the card aside and stared back up at the youth across the +desk from him. The young man seemed ill at ease and appeared to be +avoiding answering the question Harris had put to him. Harris frowned. +Westerburg was a good-looking chap, actually handsome in his Patrol +uniform, a shock of blond hair over one eye. He was tall, almost six +feet, a fine healthy lad, just two years out of Training, according to +the card. Born in Detroit. Had measles when he was nine. Interested in +jet engines, tennis, and girls. Twenty-six years old. + +"Well, Corporal Westerburg," Doctor Harris said again. "Why do you think +you're a plant?" + +The Corporal looked up shyly. He cleared his throat. "Sir, I _am_ a +plant, I don't just think so. I've been a plant for several days, now." + +"I see." The Doctor nodded. "You mean that you weren't always a plant?" + +"No, sir. I just became a plant recently." + +"And what were you before you became a plant?" + +"Well, sir, I was just like the rest of you." + +There was silence. Doctor Harris took up his pen and scratched a few +lines, but nothing of importance came. A plant? And such a +healthy-looking lad! Harris removed his steel-rimmed glasses and +polished them with his handkerchief. He put them on again and leaned +back in his chair. "Care for a cigarette, Corporal?" + +"No, sir." + +The Doctor lit one himself, resting his arm on the edge of the chair. +"Corporal, you must realize that there are very few men who become +plants, especially on such short notice. I have to admit you are the +first person who has ever told me such a thing." + +"Yes, sir, I realize it's quite rare." + +"You can understand why I'm interested, then. When you say you're a +plant, you mean you're not capable of mobility? Or do you mean you're a +vegetable, as opposed to an animal? Or just what?" + +The Corporal looked away. "I can't tell you any more," he murmured. "I'm +sorry, sir." + +"Well, would you mind telling me _how_ you became a plant?" + +Corporal Westerburg hesitated. He stared down at the floor, then out the +window at the spaceport, then at a fly on the desk. At last he stood up, +getting slowly to his feet. "I can't even tell you that, sir," he said. + +"You can't? Why not?" + +"Because--because I promised not to." + + * * * * * + +The room was silent. Doctor Harris rose, too, and they both stood facing +each other. Harris frowned, rubbing his jaw. "Corporal, just _who_ did +you promise?" + +"I can't even tell you that, sir. I'm sorry." + +The Doctor considered this. At last he went to the door and opened it. +"All right, Corporal. You may go now. And thanks for your time." + +"I'm sorry I'm not more helpful." The Corporal went slowly out and +Harris closed the door after him. Then he went across his office to the +vidphone. He rang Commander Cox's letter. A moment later the beefy +good-natured face of the Base Commander appeared. + +"Cox, this is Harris. I talked to him, all right. All I could get is the +statement that he's a plant. What else is there? What kind of behavior +pattern?" + +"Well," Cox said, "the first thing they noticed was that he wouldn't do +any work. The Garrison Chief reported that this Westerburg would wander +off outside the Garrison and just sit, all day long. Just sit." + +"In the sun?" + +"Yes. Just sit in the sun. Then at nightfall he would come back in. When +they asked why he wasn't working in the jet repair building he told them +he had to be out in the sun. Then he said--" Cox hesitated. + +"Yes? Said what?" + +"He said that work was unnatural. That it was a waste of time. That the +only worthwhile thing was to sit and contemplate--outside." + +"What then?" + +"Then they asked him how he got that idea, and then he revealed to them +that he had become a plant." + +"I'm going to have to talk to him again, I can see," Harris said. "And +he's applied for a permanent discharge from the Patrol? What reason did +he give?" + +"The same, that he's a plant now, and has no more interest in being a +Patrolman. All he wants to do is sit in the sun. It's the damnedest +thing I ever heard." + +"All right. I think I'll visit him in his quarters." Harris looked at +his watch. "I'll go over after dinner." + +"Good luck," Cox said gloomily. "But who ever heard of a man turning +into a plant? We told him it wasn't possible, but he just smiled at us." + +"I'll let you know how I make out," Harris said. + + * * * * * + +Harris walked slowly down the hall. It was after six; the evening meal +was over. A dim concept was coming into his mind, but it was much too +soon to be sure. He increased his pace, turning right at the end of the +hall. Two nurses passed, hurrying by. Westerburg was quartered with a +buddy, a man who had been injured in a jet blast and who was now almost +recovered. Harris came to the dorm wing and stopped, checking the +numbers on the doors. + +"Can I help you, sir?" the robot attendant said, gliding up. + +"I'm looking for Corporal Westerburg's room." + +"Three doors to the right." + +Harris went on. Asteroid Y-3 had only recently been garrisoned and +staffed. It had become the primary check-point to halt and examine ships +entering the system from outer space. The Garrison made sure that no +dangerous bacteria, fungus, or what-not arrived to infect the system. A +nice asteroid it was, warm, well-watered, with trees and lakes and lots +of sunlight. And the most modern Garrison in the nine planets. He shook +his head, coming to the third door. He stopped, raising his hand and +knocking. + +"Who's there?" sounded through the door. + +"I want to see Corporal Westerburg." + +The door opened. A bovine youth with horn-rimmed glasses looked out, a +book in his hand. "Who are you?" + +"Doctor Harris." + +"I'm sorry, sir. Corporal Westerburg is asleep." + +"Would he mind if I woke him up? I want very much to talk to him." +Harris peered inside. He could see a neat room, with a desk, a rug and +lamp, and two bunks. On one of the bunks was Westerburg, lying face up, +his arms folded across his chest, his eyes tightly closed. + +"Sir," the bovine youth said, "I'm afraid I can't wake him up for you, +much as I'd like to." + +"You can't? Why not?" + +"Sir, Corporal Westerburg won't wake up, not after the sun sets. He just +won't. He can't be wakened." + +"Cataleptic? Really?" + +"But in the morning, as soon as the sun comes up, he leaps out of bed +and goes outside. Stays the whole day." + +"I see," the Doctor said. "Well, thanks anyhow." He went back out into +the hall and the door shut after him. "There's more to this than I +realized," he murmured. He went on back the way he had come. + + * * * * * + +It was a warm sunny day. The sky was almost free of clouds and a gentle +wind moved through the cedars along the bank of the stream. There was a +path leading from the hospital building down the slope to the stream. At +the stream a small bridge led over to the other side, and a few patients +were standing on the bridge, wrapped in their bathrobes, looking +aimlessly down at the water. + +It took Harris several minutes to find Westerburg. The youth was not +with the other patients, near or around the bridge. He had gone farther +down, past the cedar trees and out onto a strip of bright meadow, where +poppies and grass grew everywhere. He was sitting on the stream bank, on +a flat grey stone, leaning back and staring up, his mouth open a little. +He did not notice the Doctor until Harris was almost beside him. + +"Hello," Harris said softly. + +Westerburg opened his eyes, looking up. He smiled and got slowly to his +feet, a graceful, flowing motion that was rather surprising for a man of +his size. "Hello, Doctor. What brings you out here?" + +"Nothing. Thought I'd get some sun." + +"Here, you can share my rock." Westerburg moved over and Harris sat down +gingerly, being careful not to catch his trousers on the sharp edges of +the rock. He lit a cigarette and gazed silently down at the water. +Beside him, Westerburg had resumed his strange position, leaning back, +resting on his hands, staring up with his eyes shut tight. + +"Nice day," the Doctor said. + +"Yes." + +"Do you come here every day?" + +"Yes." + +"You like it better out here than inside." + +"I can't stay inside," Westerburg said. + +"You can't? How do you mean, 'can't'?" + +"You would die without _air_, wouldn't you?" the Corporal said. + +"And you'd die without sunlight?" + +Westerburg nodded. + +"Corporal, may I ask you something? Do you plan to do this the rest of +your life, sit out in the sun on a flat rock? Nothing else?" + +Westerburg nodded. + +"How about your job? You went to school for years to become a Patrolman. +You wanted to enter the Patrol very badly. You were given a fine rating +and a first-class position. How do you feel, giving all that up? You +know, it won't be easy to get back in again. Do you realize that?" + +"I realize it." + +"And you're really going to give it all up?" + +"That's right." + + * * * * * + +Harris was silent for a while. At last he put his cigarette out and +turned toward the youth. "All right, let's say you give up your job and +sit in the sun. Well, what happens, then? Someone else has to do the job +instead of you. Isn't that true? The job has to be done, _your_ job has +to be done. And if you don't do it someone else has to." + +"I suppose so." + +"Westerburg, suppose everyone felt the way you do? Suppose everyone +wanted to sit in the sun all day? What would happen? No one would check +ships coming from outer space. Bacteria and toxic crystals would enter +the system and cause mass death and suffering. Isn't that right?" + +"If everyone felt the way I do they wouldn't be going into outer space." + +"But they have to. They have to trade, they have to get minerals and +products and new plants." + +"Why?" + +"To keep society going." + +"Why?" + +"Well--" Harris gestured. "People couldn't live without society." + +Westerburg said nothing to that. Harris watched him, but the youth did +not answer. + +"Isn't that right?" Harris said. + +"Perhaps. It's a peculiar business, Doctor. You know, I struggled for +years to get through Training. I had to work and pay my own way. Washed +dishes, worked in kitchens. Studied at night, learned, crammed, worked +on and on. And you know what I think, now?" + +"What?" + +"I wish I'd become a plant earlier." + +Doctor Harris stood up. "Westerburg, when you come inside, will you +stop off at my office? I want to give you a few tests, if you don't +mind." + +"The shock box?" Westerburg smiled. "I knew that would be coming around. +Sure, I don't mind." + +Nettled, Harris left the rock, walking back up the bank a short +distance. "About three, Corporal?" + +The Corporal nodded. + +Harris made his way up the hill, to the path, toward the hospital +building. The whole thing was beginning to become more clear to him. A +boy who had struggled all his life. Financial insecurity. Idealized +goal, getting a Patrol assignment. Finally reached it, found the load +too great. And on Asteroid Y-3 there was too much vegetation to look at +all day. Primitive identification and projection on the flora of the +asteroid. Concept of security involved in immobility and permanence. +Unchanging forest. + +He entered the building. A robot orderly stopped him almost at once. +"Sir, Commander Cox wants you urgently, on the vidphone." + +"Thanks." Harris strode to his office. He dialed Cox's letter and the +Commander's face came presently into focus. "Cox? This is Harris. I've +been out talking to the boy. I'm beginning to get this lined up, now. I +can see the pattern, too much load too long. Finally gets what he wants +and the idealization shatters under the--" + +"Harris!" Cox barked. "Shut up and listen. I just got a report from Y-3. +They're sending an express rocket here. It's on the way." + +"An express rocket?" + +"Five more cases like Westerburg. All say they're plants! The Garrison +Chief is worried as hell. Says we _must_ find out what it is or the +Garrison will fall apart, right away. Do you get me, Harris? Find out +what it is!" + +"Yes, sir," Harris murmured. "Yes, sir." + + * * * * * + +By the end of the week there were twenty cases, and all, of course, were +from Asteroid Y-3. + +Commander Cox and Harris stood together at the top of the hill, looking +gloomily down at the stream below. Sixteen men and four women sat in the +sun along the bank, none of them moving, none speaking. An hour had gone +by since Cox and Harris appeared, and in all that time the twenty people +below had not stirred. + +"I don't get it," Cox said, shaking his head. "I just absolutely don't +get it. Harris, is this the beginning of the end? Is everything going to +start cracking around us? It gives me a hell of a strange feeling to see +those people down there, basking away in the sun, just sitting and +basking." + +"Who's that man there with the red hair?" + +"That's Ulrich Deutsch. He was Second in Command at the Garrison. Now +look at him! Sits and dozes with his mouth open and his eyes shut. A +week ago that man was climbing, going right up to the top. When the +Garrison Chief retires he was supposed to take over. Maybe another year, +at the most. All his life he's been climbing to get up there." + +"And now he sits in the sun," Harris finished. + +"That woman. The brunette, with the short hair. Career woman. Head of +the entire office staff of the Garrison. And the man beside her. +Janitor. And that cute little gal there, with the bosom. Secretary, just +out of school. All kinds. And I got a note this morning, three more +coming in sometime today." + +Harris nodded. "The strange thing is--they really _want_ to sit down +there. They're completely rational; they could do something else, but +they just don't care to." + +"Well?" Cox said. "What are you going to do? Have you found anything? +We're counting on you. Let's hear it." + +"I couldn't get anything out of them directly," Harris said, "but I've +had some interesting results with the shock box. Let's go inside and +I'll show you." + +"Fine," Cox turned and started toward the hospital. "Show me anything +you've got. This is serious. Now I know how Tiberius felt when +Christianity showed up in high places." + + * * * * * + +Harris snapped off the light. The room was pitch black. "I'll run this +first reel for you. The subject is one of the best biologists stationed +at the Garrison. Robert Bradshaw. He came in yesterday. I got a good run +from the shock box because Bradshaw's mind is so highly differentiated. +There's a lot of repressed material of a non-rational nature, more than +usual." + +He pressed a switch. The projector whirred, and on the far wall a +three-dimensional image appeared in color, so real that it might have +been the man himself. Robert Bradshaw was a man of fifty, heavy-set, +with iron grey hair and a square jaw. He sat in the chair calmly, his +hands resting on the arms, oblivious to the electrodes attached to his +neck and wrist. "There I go," Harris said. "Watch." + +His film-image appeared, approaching Bradshaw. "Now, Mr. Bradshaw," his +image said, "this won't hurt you at all, and it'll help us a lot." The +image rotated the controls on the shock box. Bradshaw stiffened, and his +jaw set, but otherwise he gave no sign. The image of Harris regarded him +for a time and then stepped away from the controls. + +"Can you hear me, Mr. Bradshaw?" the image asked. + +"Yes." + +"What is your name?" + +"Robert C. Bradshaw." + +"What is your position?" + +"Chief Biologist at the check-station on Y-3." + +"Are you there now?" + +"No, I'm back on Terra. In a hospital." + +"Why?" + +"Because I admitted to the Garrison Chief that I had become a plant." + +"Is that true? That you are a plant." + +"Yes, in a non-biological sense. I retain the physiology of a human +being, of course." + +"What do you mean, then, that you're a plant?" + +"The reference is to attitudinal response, to Weltanschauung." + +"Go on." + +"It is possible for a warm-blooded animal, an upper primate, to adopt +the psychology of a plant, to some extent." + +"Yes?" + +"I refer to this." + +"And the others? They refer to this also?" + +"Yes." + +"How did this occur, your adopting this attitude?" + +Bradshaw's image hesitated, the lips twisting. "See?" Harris said to +Cox. "Strong conflict. He wouldn't have gone on, if he had been fully +conscious." + +"I--" + +"Yes?" + +"I was taught to become a plant." + +The image of Harris showed surprise and interest. "What do you mean, you +were _taught_ to become a plant?" + +"They realized my problems and taught me to become a plant. Now I'm free +from them, the problems." + +"Who? Who taught you?" + +"The Pipers." + +"Who? The Pipers? Who are the Pipers?" + +There was no answer. + +"Mr. Bradshaw, who are the Pipers?" + +After a long, agonized pause, the heavy lips parted. "They live in the +woods...." + +Harris snapped off the projector, and the lights came on. He and Cox +blinked. "That was all I could get," Harris said. "But I was lucky to +get that. He wasn't supposed to tell, not at all. That was the thing +they all promised not to do, tell who taught them to become plants. The +Pipers who live in the woods, on Asteroid Y-3." + +"You got this story from all twenty?" + +"No." Harris grimaced. "Most of them put up too much fight. I couldn't +even get _this_ much from them." + +Cox reflected. "The Pipers. Well? What do you propose to do? Just wait +around until you can get the full story? Is that your program?" + +"No," Harris said. "Not at all. I'm going to Y-3 and find out who the +Pipers are, myself." + + * * * * * + +The small patrol ship made its landing with care and precision, its jets +choking into final silence. The hatch slid back and Doctor Henry Harris +found himself staring out at a field, a brown, sun-baked landing field. +At the end of the field was a tall signal tower. Around the field on all +sides were long grey buildings, the Garrison check-station itself. Not +far off a huge Venusian cruiser was parked, a vast green hulk, like an +enormous lime. The technicians from the station were swarming all over +it, checking and examining each inch of it for lethal life-forms and +poisons that might have attached themselves to the hull. + +"All out, sir," the pilot said. + +Harris nodded. He took hold of his two suitcases and stepped carefully +down. The ground was hot underfoot, and he blinked in the bright +sunlight. Jupiter was in the sky, and the vast planet reflected +considerable sunlight down onto the asteroid. + +Harris started across the field, carrying his suitcases. A field +attendant was already busy opening the storage compartment of the patrol +ship, extracting his trunk. The attendant lowered the trunk into a +waiting dolly and came after him, manipulating the little truck with +bored skill. + +As Harris came to the entrance of the signal tower the gate slid back +and a man came forward, an older man, large and robust, with white hair +and a steady walk. + +"How are you, Doctor?" he said, holding his hand out. "I'm Lawrence +Watts, the Garrison Chief." + +They shook hands. Watts smiled down at Harris. He was a huge old man, +still regal and straight in his dark blue uniform, with his gold +epaulets sparkling on his shoulders. + +"Have a good trip?" Watts asked. "Come on inside and I'll have a drink +fixed for you. It gets hot around here, with the Big Mirror up there." + +"Jupiter?" Harris followed him inside the building. The signal tower was +cool and dark, a welcome relief. "Why is the gravity so near Terra's? I +expected to go flying off like a kangaroo. Is it artificial?" + +"No. There's a dense core of some kind to the asteroid, some kind of +metallic deposit. That's why we picked this asteroid out of all the +others. It made the construction problem much simpler, and it also +explains why the asteroid has natural air and water. Did you see the +hills?" + +"The hills?" + +"When we get up higher in the tower we'll be able to see over the +buildings. There's quite a natural park here, a regular little forest, +complete with everything you'd want. Come in here, Harris. This is my +office." The old man strode at quite a clip, around the corner and into +a large, well-furnished apartment. "Isn't this pleasant? I intend to +make my last year here as amiable as possible." He frowned. "Of course, +with Deutsch gone, I may be here forever. Oh, well." He shrugged. "Sit +down, Harris." + +"Thanks." Harris took a chair, stretching his legs out. He watched Watts +as he closed the door to the hall. "By the way, any more cases come up?" + +"Two more today," Watts was grim. "Makes almost thirty, in all. We have +three hundred men in this station. At the rate it's going--" + +"Chief, you spoke about a forest on the asteroid. Do you allow the crew +to go into the forest at will? Or do you restrict them to the buildings +and grounds?" + + * * * * * + +Watts rubbed his jaw. "Well, it's a difficult situation, Harris. I have +to let the men leave the grounds sometimes. They can _see_ the forest +from the buildings, and as long as you can see a nice place to stretch +out and relax that does it. Once every ten days they have a full period +of rest. Then they go out and fool around." + +"And then it happens?" + +"Yes, I suppose so. But as long as they can see the forest they'll want +to go. I can't help it." + +"I know. I'm not censuring you. Well, what's your theory? What happens +to them out there? What do they do?" + +"What happens? Once they get out there and take it easy for a while they +don't want to come back and work. It's boondoggling. Playing hookey. +They don't want to work, so off they go." + +"How about this business of their delusions?" + +Watts laughed good-naturedly. "Listen, Harris. You know as well as I do +that's a lot of poppycock. They're no more plants than you or I. They +just don't want to work, that's all. When I was a cadet we had a few +ways to make people work. I wish we could lay a few on their backs, like +we used to." + +"You think this is simple goldbricking, then?" + +"Don't you think it is?" + +"No," Harris said. "They really believe they're plants. I put them +through the high-frequency shock treatment, the shock box. The whole +nervous system is paralyzed, all inhibitions stopped cold. They tell the +truth, then. And they said the same thing--and more." + +Watts paced back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back. "Harris, +you're a doctor, and I suppose you know what you're talking about. But +look at the situation here. We have a garrison, a good modern garrison. +We're probably the most modern outfit in the system. Every new device +and gadget is here that science can produce. Harris, this garrison is +one vast machine. The men are parts, and each has his job, the +Maintenance Crew, the Biologists, the Office Crew, the Managerial Staff. + +"Look what happens when one person steps away from his job. Everything +else begins to creak. We can't service the bugs if no one services the +machines. We can't order food to feed the crews if no one makes out +reports, takes inventories. We can't direct any kind of activity if the +Second in Command decides to go out and sit in the sun all day. + +"Thirty people, one tenth of the Garrison. But we can't run without +them. The Garrison is built that way. If you take the supports out the +whole building falls. No one can leave. We're all tied here, and these +people know it. They know they have no right to do that, run off on +their own. No one has that right anymore. We're all too tightly +interwoven to suddenly start doing what we want. It's unfair to the +rest, the majority." + + * * * * * + +Harris nodded. "Chief, can I ask you something?" + +"What is it?" + +"Are there any inhabitants on the asteroid? Any natives?" + +"Natives?" Watts considered. "Yes, there's some kind of aborigines +living out there." He waved vaguely toward the window. + +"What are they like? Have you seen them?" + +"Yes, I've seen them. At least, I saw them when we first came here. They +hung around for a while, watching us, then after a time they +disappeared." + +"Did they die off? Diseases of some kind?" + +"No. They just--just disappeared. Into their forest. They're still +there, someplace." + +"What kind of people are they?" + +"Well, the story is that they're originally from Mars. They don't look +much like Martians, though. They're dark, a kind of coppery color. Thin. +Very agile, in their own way. They hunt and fish. No written language. +We don't pay much attention to them." + +"I see." Harris paused. "Chief, have you ever heard of anything +called--The Pipers?" + +"The Pipers?" Watts frowned. "No. Why?" + +"The patients mentioned something called The Pipers. According to +Bradshaw, the Pipers taught him to become a plant. He learned it from +them, a kind of teaching." + +"The Pipers. What are they?" + +"I don't know," Harris admitted. "I thought maybe you might know. My +first assumption, of course, was that they're the natives. But now I'm +not so sure, not after hearing your description of them." + +"The natives are primitive savages. They don't have anything to teach +anybody, especially a top-flight biologist." + +Harris hesitated. "Chief, I'd like to go into the woods and look around. +Is that possible?" + +"Certainly. I can arrange it for you. I'll give you one of the men to +show you around." + +"I'd rather go alone. Is there any danger?" + +"No, none that I know of. Except--" + +"Except the Pipers," Harris finished. "I know. Well, there's only one +way to find them, and that's it. I'll have to take my chances." + + * * * * * + +"If you walk in a straight line," Chief Watts said, "you'll find +yourself back at the Garrison in about six hours. It's a damn small +asteroid. There's a couple of streams and lakes, so don't fall in." + +"How about snakes or poisonous insects?" + +"Nothing like that reported. We did a lot of tramping around at first, +but it's grown back now, the way it was. We never encountered anything +dangerous." + +"Thanks, Chief," Harris said. They shook hands. "I'll see you before +nightfall." + +"Good luck." The Chief and his two armed escorts turned and went back +across the rise, down the other side toward the Garrison. Harris watched +them go until they disappeared inside the building. Then he turned and +started into the grove of trees. + +The woods were very silent around him as he walked. Trees towered up on +all sides of him, huge dark-green trees like eucalyptus. The ground +underfoot was soft with endless leaves that had fallen and rotted into +soil. After a while the grove of high trees fell behind and he found +himself crossing a dry meadow, the grass and weeds burned brown in the +sun. Insects buzzed around him, rising up from the dry weed-stalks. +Something scuttled ahead, hurrying through the undergrowth. He caught +sight of a grey ball with many legs, scampering furiously, its antennae +weaving. + +The meadow ended at the bottom of a hill. He was going up, now, going +higher and higher. Ahead of him an endless expanse of green rose, acres +of wild growth. He scrambled to the top finally, blowing and panting, +catching his breath. + +He went on. Now he was going down again, plunging into a deep gully. +Tall ferns grew, as large as trees. He was entering a living Jurassic +forest, ferns that stretched out endlessly ahead of him. Down he went, +walking carefully. The air began to turn cold around him. The floor of +the gully was damp and silent; underfoot the ground was almost wet. + +He came out on a level table. It was dark, with the ferns growing up on +all sides, dense growths of ferns, silent and unmoving. He came upon a +natural path, an old stream bed, rough and rocky, but easy to follow. +The air was thick and oppressive. Beyond the ferns he could see the side +of the next hill, a green field rising up. + +Something grey was ahead. Rocks, piled-up boulders, scattered and +stacked here and there. The stream bed led directly to them. Apparently +this had been a pool of some kind, a stream emptying from it. He climbed +the first of the boulders awkwardly, feeling his way up. At the top he +paused, resting again. + +As yet he had had no luck. So far he had not met any of the natives. It +would be through them that he would find the mysterious Pipers that were +stealing the men away, if such really existed. If he could find the +natives, talk to them, perhaps he could find out something. But as yet +he had been unsuccessful. He looked around. The woods were very silent. +A slight breeze moved through the ferns, rustling them, but that was +all. Where were the natives? Probably they had a settlement of some +sort, huts, a clearing. The asteroid was small; he should be able to +find them by nightfall. + + * * * * * + +He started down the rocks. More rocks rose up ahead and he climbed them. +Suddenly he stopped, listening. Far off, he could hear a sound, the +sound of water. Was he approaching a pool of some kind? He went on +again, trying to locate the sound. He scrambled down rocks and up rocks, +and all around him there was silence, except for the splashing of +distant water. Maybe a waterfall, water in motion. A stream. If he found +the stream he might find the natives. + +The rocks ended and the stream bed began again, but this time it was +wet, the bottom muddy and overgrown with moss. He was on the right +track; not too long ago this stream had flowed, probably during the +rainy season. He went up on the side of the stream, pushing through the +ferns and vines. A golden snake slid expertly out of his path. Something +glinted ahead, something sparkling through the ferns. Water. A pool. He +hurried, pushing the vines aside and stepping out, leaving them behind. + +He was standing on the edge of a pool, a deep pool sunk in a hollow of +grey rocks, surrounded by ferns and vines. The water was clear and +bright, and in motion, flowing in a waterfall at the far end. It was +beautiful, and he stood watching, marveling at it, the undisturbed +quality of it. Untouched, it was. Just as it had always been, probably. +As long as the asteroid existed. Was he the first to see it? Perhaps. It +was so hidden, so concealed by the ferns. It gave him a strange feeling, +a feeling almost of ownership. He stepped down a little toward the +water. + +And it was then he noticed her. + +The girl was sitting on the far edge of the pool, staring down into the +water, resting her head on one drawn-up knee. She had been bathing; he +could see that at once. Her coppery body was still wet and glistening +with moisture, sparkling in the sun. She had not seen him. He stopped, +holding his breath, watching her. + +She was lovely, very lovely, with long dark hair that wound around her +shoulders and arms. Her body was slim, very slender, with a supple grace +to it that made him stare, accustomed as he was to various forms of +anatomy. How silent she was! Silent and unmoving, staring down at the +water. Time passed, strange, unchanging time, as he watched the girl. +Time might even have ceased, with the girl sitting on the rock staring +into the water, and the rows of great ferns behind her, as rigid as if +they had been painted there. + +All at once the girl looked up. Harris shifted, suddenly conscious of +himself as an intruder. He stepped back. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm +from the Garrison. I didn't mean to come poking around." + +She nodded without speaking. + +"You don't mind?" Harris asked presently. + +"No." + +So she spoke Terran! He moved a little toward her, around the side of +the pool. "I hope you don't mind my bothering you. I won't be on the +asteroid very long. This is my first day here. I just arrived from +Terra." + +She smiled faintly. + +"I'm a doctor. Henry Harris." He looked down at her, at the slim coppery +body, gleaming in the sunlight, a faint sheen of moisture on her arms +and thighs. "You might be interested in why I'm here." He paused. "Maybe +you can even help me." + +She looked up a little. "Oh?" + +"Would you like to help me?" + +She smiled. "Yes. Of course." + +"That's good. Mind if I sit down?" He looked around and found himself a +flat rock. He sat down slowly, facing her. "Cigarette?" + +"No." + +"Well, I'll have one." He lit up, taking a deep breath. "You see, we +have a problem at the Garrison. Something has been happening to some of +the men, and it seems to be spreading. We have to find out what causes +it or we won't be able to run the Garrison." + + * * * * * + +He waited for a moment. She nodded slightly. How silent she was! Silent +and unmoving. Like the ferns. + +"Well, I've been able to find out a few things from them, and one very +interesting fact stands out. They keep saying that something +called--called The Pipers are responsible for their condition. They say +the Pipers taught them--" He stopped. A strange look had flitted across +her dark, small face. "Do you know the Pipers?" + +She nodded. + +Acute satisfaction flooded over Harris. "You do? I was sure the natives +would know." He stood up again. "I was sure they would, if the Pipers +really existed. Then they do exist, do they?" + +"They exist." + +Harris frowned. "And they're here, in the woods?" + +"Yes." + +"I see." He ground his cigarette out impatiently. "You don't suppose +there's any chance you could take me to them, do you?" + +"Take you?" + +"Yes. I have this problem and I have to solve it. You see, the Base +Commander on Terra has assigned this to me, this business about the +Pipers. It has to be solved. And I'm the one assigned to the job. So +it's important to me to find them. Do you see? Do you understand?" + +She nodded. + +"Well, will you take me to them?" + +The girl was silent. For a long time she sat, staring down into the +water, resting her head against her knee. Harris began to become +impatient. He fidgeted back and forth, resting first on one leg and +then on the other. + +"Well, will you?" he said again. "It's important to the whole Garrison. +What do you say?" He felt around in his pockets. "Maybe I could give you +something. What do I have...." He brought out his lighter. "I could give +you my lighter." + +The girl stood up, rising slowly, gracefully, without motion or effort. +Harris' mouth fell open. How supple she was, gliding to her feet in a +single motion! He blinked. Without effort she had stood, seemingly +without _change_. All at once she was standing instead of sitting, +standing and looking calmly at him, her small face expressionless. + +"Will you?" he said. + +"Yes. Come along." She turned away, moving toward the row of ferns. + +Harris followed quickly, stumbling across the rocks. "Fine," he said. +"Thanks a lot. I'm very interested to meet these Pipers. Where are you +taking me, to your village? How much time do we have before nightfall?" + +The girl did not answer. She had entered the ferns already, and Harris +quickened his pace to keep from losing her. How silently she glided! + +"Wait," he called. "Wait for me." + +The girl paused, waiting for him, slim and lovely, looking silently +back. + +He entered the ferns, hurrying after her. + + * * * * * + +"Well, I'll be damned!" Commander Cox said. "It sure didn't take you +long." He leaped down the steps two at a time. "Let me give you a hand." + +Harris grinned, lugging his heavy suitcases. He set them down and +breathed a sigh of relief. "It isn't worth it," he said. "I'm going to +give up taking so much." + +"Come on inside. Soldier, give him a hand." A Patrolman hurried over and +took one of the suitcases. The three men went inside and down the +corridor to Harris' quarters. Harris unlocked the door and the Patrolman +deposited his suitcase inside. + +"Thanks," Harris said. He set the other down beside it. "It's good to be +back, even for a little while." + +"A little while?" + +"I just came back to settle my affairs. I have to return to Y-3 tomorrow +morning." + +"Then you didn't solve the problem?" + +"I solved it, but I haven't _cured_ it. I'm going back and get to work +right away. There's a lot to be done." + +"But you found out what it is?" + +"Yes. It was just what the men said. The Pipers." + +"The Pipers do exist?" + +"Yes." Harris nodded. "They do exist." He removed his coat and put it +over the back of the chair. Then he went to the window and let it down. +Warm spring air rushed into the room. He settled himself on the bed, +leaning back. + +"The Pipers exist, all right--in the minds of the Garrison crew! To the +crew, the Pipers are real. The crew created them. It's a mass hypnosis, +a group projection, and all the men there have it, to some degree." + +"How did it start?" + +"Those men on Y-3 were sent there because they were skilled, +highly-trained men with exceptional ability. All their lives they've +been schooled by complex modern society, fast tempo and high integration +between people. Constant pressure toward some goal, some job to be done. + +"Those men are put down suddenly on an asteroid where there are natives +living the most primitive of existence, completely vegetable lives. No +concept of goal, no concept of purpose, and hence no ability to plan. +The natives live the way the animals live, from day to day, sleeping, +picking food from the trees. A kind of Garden-of-Eden existence, without +struggle or conflict." + +"So? But--" + +"Each of the Garrison crew sees the natives and _unconsciously_ thinks +of his own early life, when he was a child, when _he_ had no worries, no +responsibilities, before he joined modern society. A baby lying in the +sun. + +"But he can't admit this to himself! He can't admit that he might _want_ +to live like the natives, to lie and sleep all day. So he invents The +Pipers, the idea of a mysterious group living in the woods who trap him, +lead him into their kind of life. Then he can blame _them_, not himself. +They 'teach' him to become a part of the woods." + +"What are you going to do? Have the woods burned?" + +"No." Harris shook his head. "That's not the answer; the woods are +harmless. The answer is psychotherapy for the men. That's why I'm going +right back, so I can begin work. They've got to be made to see that the +Pipers are inside them, their own unconscious voices calling to them to +give up their responsibilities. They've got to be made to realize that +there are no Pipers, at least, not outside themselves. The woods are +harmless and the natives have nothing to teach anyone. They're primitive +savages, without even a written language. We're seeing a psychological +projection by a whole Garrison of men who want to lay down their work +and take it easy for a while." + +The room was silent. + +"I see," Cox said presently. "Well, it makes sense." He got to his feet. +"I hope you can do something with the men when you get back." + +"I hope so, too," Harris agreed. "And I think I can. After all, it's +just a question of increasing their self-awareness. When they have that +the Pipers will vanish." + +Cox nodded. "Well, you go ahead with your unpacking, Doc. I'll see you +at dinner. And maybe before you leave, tomorrow." + +"Fine." + + * * * * * + +Harris opened the door and the Commander went out into the hall. Harris +closed the door after him and then went back across the room. He looked +out the window for a moment, his hands in his pockets. + +It was becoming evening, the air was turning cool. The sun was just +setting as he watched, disappearing behind the buildings of the city +surrounding the hospital. He watched it go down. + +Then he went over to his two suitcases. He was tired, very tired from +his trip. A great weariness was beginning to descend over him. There +were so many things to do, so terribly many. How could he hope to do +them all? Back to the asteroid. And then what? + +He yawned, his eyes closing. How sleepy he was! He looked over at the +bed. Then he sat down on the edge of it and took his shoes off. So much +to do, the next day. + +He put his shoes in the corner of the room. Then he bent over, +unsnapping one of the suitcases. He opened the suitcase. From it he took +a bulging gunnysack. Carefully, he emptied the contents of the sack out +on the floor. Dirt, rich soft dirt. Dirt he had collected during his +last hours there, dirt he had carefully gathered up. + +When the dirt was spread out on the floor he sat down in the middle of +it. He stretched himself out, leaning back. When he was fully +comfortable he folded his hands across his chest and closed his eyes. So +much work to do--But later on, of course. Tomorrow. How warm the dirt +was.... + +He was sound asleep in a moment. + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Imagination: Stories of Science and + Fantasy_ February 1953. 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 the Project Gutenberg EBook of Piper in the Woods, by Philip K. Dick + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIPER IN THE WOODS *** + +***** This file should be named 32832.txt or 32832.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/8/3/32832/ + +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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