Classic Audiobook Collection - The Crystal Crypt & Beyond the Door by Philip K. Dick ~ Full Audiobook [scifi]

Episode Date: March 14, 2023

The Crystal Crypt & Beyond the Door by Philip K. Dick audiobook. Genre: scifi In The Crystal Crypt & Beyond the Door, Philip K. Dick delivers two early, razor-edged science fiction tales where ordinary choices become traps and reality refuses to stay put. In The Crystal Crypt, three uneasy travelers flee Mars for Earth in the wake of a bitter political struggle. The trip should be routine, but suspicion rides with them: each passenger has something to hide, and the legacy of a catastrophic act of sabotage threatens to surface at the worst possible moment. As tensions rise aboard the ship, the line between survivor, collaborator, and avenger blurs. In Beyond the Door, a seemingly harmless gift - a peculiar wooden cuckoo clock - becomes the catalyst for a young couple's unraveling. What begins as domestic discomfort turns into mounting dread as the clock's presence provokes jealousy, fear, and the sense that an unseen force is pressing in from the edges of their lives. Together, these stories showcase Dick's signature themes: paranoia as a survival instinct, the fragility of identity, and the terrifying possibility that the world can change shape without warning. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 1 (00:15:01) Chapter 2 (00:31:30) Chapter 3 (00:48:25) Chapter 4 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

the crystal crypt by philip k dick section one attention interflight ship attention you are ordered to land at the control station on debos for inspection attention you are to land at once the metallic rasp of the speaker echoed through the corridors of the great ship the passengers glanced at each other uneasily murmuring and peering out the port windows at the small speck below the dot of rock that was the martian checkpoint What's up? An A.H.'s passenger asked one of the pilots, hurrying through the ship to check the escape lock. We have to land. Keep seated. The pilot went on.

Land? But why? They all looked at each other. Hovering above the bulging interflight ship were three slender Martian pursuit craft, poised and alert for any emergency. As the interflight ship prepared to land, the pursuit ships dropped lower, carefully maintaining themselves a short distance away. There's something going on, a woman passenger said nervously.

Lord, I thought we were finally through with those Martians. Now what? I don't blame them for giving us one last going over. A heavyset businessman said to his companion. After all, we're the last ship leaving Mars for Terra. We're damn lucky they let us go at all. You think there will really be war? A young man said to the girl, sitting in the seat next to him.

Those Martians won't dare fight. Not with our weapons and ability. to produce. We could take care of Mars in a month. It's all talk." The girl glanced at him, Don't be so sure. Mars is desperate. They'll fight tooth and nail. I've been on Mars three years. She shuddered. Thank goodness I'm getting away. If—prepared to land, the pilot's voice came. The ship began to settle slowly, dropping down toward the tiny emergency field on the seldom visited moon.

Down, down, the ship dropped. There was a grinding sound, a sickening jolt, then silence. We've landed. The heavy-set businessman said. They'd better not do anything to us. Terror will rip them apart if they violate one space article. Please keep your seats, the pilot's voice came. No one is to leave the ship.

According to the Martian authorities, we are to remain here. A restless stir filled the ship. Some of the passengers began to read uneasily, others stared out at the deserted field, nervous and on edge, watching the three Martian pursuit ships land and discharge groups of armed men. The Martian soldiers were crossing the field quickly, moving toward them running double-time. The interflight spaceship was the last passenger vessel to leave Mars for Terra. All other ships had long since left, returning to safety before the outbreak of hostilities. The passengers were the very last to go, the final group of Terrans to leave the grim red

planet, businessmen, expatriates, tourists, any and all Terrans who had not already gone home. What do you suppose they want?" the young man said to the girl. It's hard to figure Martians out, isn't it? First they give the ship clearance, let us take off, and now they radio us to set down again. By the way, my name's Thatcher, Bob Thatcher, since we're going to be here a while. The port lock opened, talking seized abruptly as everyone turned. A black-clad Martian official, a province Leiter, stood framed against the bleak sunlight, staring around the ship.

Behind him a handful of Martian soldiers stood waiting. Their guns ready. This will not take long, the Leiter said, stepping into the ship, the soldiers following him. You will be allowed to continue your trip shortly. An audible sigh of relief went through the passengers. Look at him, the girl whispered to Thatcher. How I hate those black uniforms! He's just a provincial leiter, Thatcher, Thadcher said.

Don't worry. The leiter stood for a moment, his hands on his hips, looking around at them without expression. I have ordered your ship grounded so that an inspection can be made of all persons aboard, he said. You Terrans are the last to leave our planet. Most of you are ordinary and harmless. I am not interested in you. I am interested in finding three saboteurs, three terrans, two men and a woman, who have

committed an incredible act of destruction and violence. They are said to have fled to this ship. Murmurs of surprise and indignation broke out on all sides. The leotards motioned the soldiers to follow him up the aisle. Two hours ago, a Martian city was destroyed. Nothing remains. only a depression in the sand where the city was. The city and all its people have completely vanished.

An entire city destroyed in a second. Mars will never rest until the saboteurs are captured, and we know they are aboard this ship. It's impossible, the heavy-set businessman said. There aren't any saboteurs here. We'll begin with you, the leiter said to him, stepping up beside the man's seat. One of the soldiers passed the leiter a square metal box. This will soon tell us if you are speaking the truth. Stand up. Get on your feet.

The man rose slowly, flushing. See here. Are you involved in the destruction of the city? Answer. The man swallowed angrily. I know nothing about any destruction of any city. And furthermore, he is telling the truth, the metal box said tonelessly. Next person. The leiter moved down the aisle. A thin, bald-headed man, stood up nervously. No, sir. He said, I don't know a thing about it.

He is telling the truth, the box affirmed. Next person, stand up. One person after another stood, answered, and sat down again in relief. At last there were only a few people left who had not been questioned. The leiter paused, studying them intently. Only five left. The three must be among you. We have narrowed it down.

His hand moved to his belt. Something flashed. A rod of pale fire. He raised the rod, pointing it steadily at the five people. All right, the first one of you. What do you know about this destruction? Are you involved with the destruction of our city? No, not at all, the man murmured.

He is telling the truth, the box intoned. Next. Nothing. I know nothing. I had nothing to do. with it." Jorro," the box said. The ship was silent.

Three people remained. A middle-aged man and his wife and their son, a boy of about twelve. They stood in the corner, staring white-faced at the leiter, at the rod in his dark fingers. It must be you, the leiter grated, moving toward them. The Martian soldiers raised their guns. It must be you. You there, the boy. What do you know about the destruction of our city?

Answer. The boy shook his head. Nothing, he whispered. The box was silent for a moment. He is telling the truth. It said reluctantly. Next. Nothing.

The woman murmured. Nothing. The truth. Next. I had nothing to do with blowing up your city, the man said. You're wasting your time. It is the truth, the box said. For a long time, the leiter stood toying with his wrong.

At last he pushed it back into his belt and signaled the soldiers toward the exit lock. You may proceed on your trip, he said. He walked after the soldiers. At the hatch he stopped, looking back at the passengers. His face grim. You may go, but Mars will not allow her enemies to escape. The three saboteurs will be caught, I promise you." He rubbed his dark jaw thoughtfully.

It is strange. I was certain they were on this ship. Again he looked coldly around at the Terrans. Perhaps I was wrong. All right, proceed, but remember, the three will be caught, even if it takes endless years. Mars will catch them and punish them. I swear it. For a long time no one spoke.

The ship lumbered through space again. Its jets firing evenly, calmly, moving the passengers toward their own planet toward home. Behind them, Demos and the red ball that was Mars dropped farther and farther away each moment, disappearing and fading into the distance. A sigh of relief passed through the passengers. What a lot of hot air that was, one grumbled. Barbarians, a woman said. A few of them stood up, moving out into the aisle, toward the lounge and the cocktail bar.

Beside Thatcher the girl got to her feet, pulling her jacket around her shoulders. Pardon me, she said, stepping past him. Going to the bar, Thatcher said. Mind if I come along? I suppose not. They followed the others into the lounge, walking together up the aisle. You know, Thatcher said, I don't even know your name yet. My name is Mara Garden.

Mara. That's a nice name. What part of Terra are you from? North America, New York. I've been in New York, Mara said. New York is very lovely. She was slender and pretty, with a cloud of dark hair tumbling down her neck. against her leather jacket they entered the lounge and stood undecided let's sit at a table mara said looking around at the people at the bar mostly men perhaps that table over there but some one's there already thacher said

the heavy-set business man had sat down at the table and deposited his sample-case on the floor do we want to sit with him oh it's all right mara said crossing to the table may we sit here she said to the man the man looked up half-rising it's a pleasure he murmured he studied thatcher intently however a friend of mine will be joining me in a moment i'm sure there's room enough for us all mara said she seated herself and thatcher helped her with her chair. He sat down, too, glancing up suddenly at Mara and the businessman. They were looking at each other almost as if something had passed between them. The man was middle-aged, with a florid face and tired gray eyes. His hands were mottled with the veins showing thickly. At the moment he was tapping nervously. My name's Thatcher. Thatcher said to him, holding out his hand. Bob Thatcher, since we're going to be together for a while, we might as well get to know each other."

The man studied him. Slowly his hand came out. Why not? My name's Erickson. Ralph Erickson." Erickson," Thatcher smiled. You look like a commercial man to me. He nodded toward the sample case on the floor.

Am I right?" The man named Erickson started to answer, but at that moment there was a stir. A thin man of about thirty had come up to the table, his eyes bright, staring down at them warmly. Well, we're on our way, he said to Erickson. Hello, Mara. He pulled out a chair and sat down quickly, folding his hands on the table before him. He noticed Thatcher and drew back a little.

Pardon me, he murmured. Bob Thatcher is my name, Thatcher said. I hope I'm not intruding here. He glanced around at the three of them. Mara, alert, watching him intently. Heavy-set Erickson, his face blank, and this person. Say, do you three know each other? other?" he asked suddenly. There was silence. The robot attendant slid over soundlessly,

poised to take their orders. Erickson roused himself. Let's see. He murmured what will we have. Mara? Whiskey and water? You, Jan? The bright, slim man smiled. The same. Thatcher? gin and tonic. Whiskey and water for me also, Erickson said. The robot attendant went off. It returned at once with the drinks, setting them at the table. Each took his own. Well, Erickson said, holding his glass up, to our mutual success. All drank. Thatcher and the three of them, heavy-set Erickson, Mara, her eyes, nervous and alert.

Jan knew it just come. Again they looked past between Mara and Erickson. They looked so swift that he would not have caught it had he not been looking directly at her. What line do you represent Mr. Erickson? Thatcher asked. Erickson glanced at him, then down. at the sample case on the floor. He grunted,

"'Well, as you can see, I'm a salesman.' Thatcher smiled. "'I knew it. You get so you can always spot a salesman right off by his sample case. A salesman always has to carry something to show. What are you in, sir?' Erickson paused. He licked his thick lips, his eyes blank and lidded like a toad's.

At last he rubbed his mouth with his hand and reached down, lifting up the sample case. He set it on the table in front of him. Well, he said, perhaps we might even show Mr. Thatcher. They all stared down at the sample case. It seemed to be an ordinary leather case with a metal handle and a snap lock. I'm getting curious, Thatcher said. What's in there?

You're all so tense. Diamonds, stolen jewels? Jan laughed harshly, mirthlessly. Errik put it down. We're not far enough away yet. Nonsense. Errik rumbled. We're away, Jan.

Please, Mara whispered. Wait, Eric. Wait? Why? What far? You're all so accustomed to— Eric, Mara said. She nodded toward Thatcher.

We don't know him, Eric. Please. He's a Terran, isn't he? Erickson said. All Terrans are together in these times. He fumbled suddenly at the catch-lock on the case. Yes, Mr. Thatcher, I'm a salesman. We're all salesmen.

The three of us. Then you know each other. Yes, Erickson nodded. His two companions sat rigidly, staring down. Yes, we do. Here, I'll show you our line. End of Section 1. Section 2 of the crystal gripped by Philip K. Dick.

This Lieberbox recording is in the public domain. He opened the case. From it, he took a letter knife, a pencil sharpener, a glass globe paperweight, a box of thumbtacks, a stapler, some clips, a plastic ashtray, and some things Thatcher could not identify. He placed the objects in a row in front of him on the tabletop. Then he closed the sample case. I gather you're in office supplies, Thatcher said. He touched the letter knife with his finger. Nice quality steel. Looks like Swedish steel to me. Erickson nodded, looking into Thatcher's face. Not really an impressive business.

is it, office supplies, ashtrays, paper clips. He smiled. Oh, Thatcher shrugged. Why not? There are necessity in modern business. The only thing I wonder. What's that? Well, I wonder how you'd ever find enough customers on Mars to make it worth your while. He paused, examining the glass paperweight. He lifted it up, holding it to the light, staring at the scene within, until Erickson took it out of his hand and put it back in the the sample case. And another thing, if you three know each other, why did you sit apart when you got on? They looked at him quickly.

And why didn't you speak to each other until we left Demos? He leaned toward Erickson, smiling at him. Two men and a woman, three of you, sitting apart in a ship, not speaking until the check station was passed. I find myself thinking over what the Martian said. Three saboteurs, a woman and two men. Erickson put the things back in the sample case. He was smiling, but his face had gone chalk white.

Mara stared down, playing with a drop of water on the edge of her glass. Jan clenched his hands together nervously, blinking rapidly. You three are the ones the leiter was after, Thatcher said softly. You are the destroyers, the saboteurs. But their lie detector, why didn't it trap you? How did you get by that? And now you're safe outside the check station. He grinned, staring around at them.

I'll be damned. And I really thought you were a salesman Erickson. You really fooled me. Erickson relaxed a little. Well, Mr. Thatcher, it's in a good cause. I'm sure you have no love for Mars either. No Terran does. And I see you're leaving with the rest of us.

True, Thatcher said. You must certainly have an interesting account to give, the three of you. He looked around the table. We still have an hour or so of travel. Sometimes he gets dull, this Mars Terra run. Nothing to see, nothing to do, but sit and drink in the lounge. He raised his eyes slowly. Any chance you'd like to spend a story to keep us awake?

Jan and Mara looked at Erickson. Go on, Jan said. He knows who we are. Tell him the rest of the story. You might as well, Mara said. Jan let out a side. Suddenly a sigh of relief. Let's put the cards on the table, get this weight off us.

I'm tired of sneaking around, slipping. Sure, Erickson said expansively. Why not? He settled back in his chair, unbuttoning his vest. Certainly, Mr. Thatcher, I'll be glad to spin you a story. And I'm sure it will be interesting enough to keep you awake. They ran through the groves of dead trees, leaping across the sun-baked Martian soil, running silently together.

They went up a little rise across a narrow ridge. Suddenly, Eric stopped, throwing himself down flat on the ground. The others did the same, pressing themselves against the soil, gasping for breath. Be silent, Eric muttered. He raised himself a little. No noise. There'll be leoters nearby from now on. We don't dare take any chances.

Between the three people lying in the grove of dead trees and the city was a barren-level waste of desert, over a mile of blasted sand. No trees or bushes marred the smooth, parched surface. Only an occasional wind, a dry wind, eddying and twisting, blew the sand up into little rills. A faint odor came to them, a bitter smell of heat and sand carried by the wind. Eric pointed, Look, the city, there it is.

They stared, still breathing deeply from their race through the trees. The city was close, closer than they had ever seen it before. Never had they gotten so close to it in times past. Terrans were never allowed near the great Martian cities, the centers of Martian life. Even in ordinary times when there was no threat of approaching war, the Martians shrewdly kept all Terrans's, away from their citadels, partly from fear, partly from a deep, innate sense of hostility

toward the white-skinned visitors whose commercial ventures had earned them the respect and the dislike of the whole system. How does it look to you, Eric said? The city was huge, much larger than they had imagined from the drawings and models they had studied so carefully back in New York in the War Ministry office. Huge it was, huge and stark, black towers rising up against the sky, incredibly thin columns of ancient metal, columns that had stood wind and sun for centuries. Around the city was a wall of stone, redstone, emits bricks that had been lugged there and fitted into place by slaves

of the early Martian dynasties under the whiplash of the first great kings of Mars. An ancient sun-baked city, a city set in the middle of a wasted plain beyond groves of dead trees, a city seldom seen by Terrans, but a city studied on maps and charts in every war office on Terra, a city that contained, for all its ancient stone and archaic towers, the ruling group of all Moors, the Council of Senior Leiters, black-clad men who governed and ruled within our The senior leoters, twelve fanatic and devoted men, black priests, but priests with flashing rods of fire, lie detectors, rocket ships, intraspace cannon, many more things the Terran Senate could only conjecture about.

The senior leiters and their subordinate province leiters, Eric and the two behind him suppressed a shutter. We've got to be careful, Eric said again. We'll be passing among them soon. If they guess who we are or what we're here for. He snapped open the case he carried, glancing inside for a second. Then he closed it again, grasping the handle firmly. Let's go, he said.

He stood up slowly. You two come up beside me. I want to make sure you look the way you should. Mara and Jan stepped quickly ahead. Eric studied them critically as the three of them walked. slowly down the slope, onto the plain, toward the towering black spires of the city. Jan, Erick said, take hold of her hand. Remember, you're going to marry her.

She's your bride, and Martian peasants think a lot of their brides. Jan was dressed in the short trousers and coat of the Martian farmer, a knotted rope tied around his waist, a hat on his head to keep off the sun. His skin was dark, colored by dye, until it was almost bruce. You look fine, Eric said to him. He glanced at Mara. Her black hair was tied in a knot, looped through a hollowed-out yuk bone. Her face was dark, too, dark and lined with colored ceremonial pigment, green and orange stripes across her cheeks. Earrings were strung through her ears. On her feet were tiny slippers of peru-hide, laced around her ankles, and she wore long

translucent Martian trousers, with a bright sash tied around her waist. Between her small breasts, a chain of stone beads rested, good luck charms for the coming marriage. All right, Eric said. He himself wore the flowing gray robe of a Martian priest, dirty robes that were supposed to remain on him all his life, to be buried around him when he died. I think we'll get past the guards. There should be heavy morning traffic on the road. They walked on, the hard sand crunching under their feet. Against the horizon they could see specks moving, other persons going toward the city, farmers and peasants and merchants,

bringing their crops and goods to market. See the cart, Mara exclaimed. They were nearing a narrow road, two ruts worn into the sand. A Martian hoofa was pulling the cart, its great sides wet with perspiration, its tongue hanging out. The cart was piled high with bales of cloth, rough country cloth, hand dipped. A bent farmer urged the hoofa on. And there, she pointed smiling.

A group of merchants riding small animals were moving along behind the cart, Martians in long robes, their faces hidden by sand masks. On each animal was a pack, carefully tied on with rope. And beyond the merchants plotting dully along were peasants and farmers in an in-enlist. endless procession, some riding-carts or animals, but mostly on foot. Mara and Jan and Errik joined the line of people, melting in behind the merchants. No one noticed them, no one looked up or gave any sign. The march continued as before.

Neither Jan nor Mara said anything to each other. They walked a little behind Errik, who paced with a certain dignity, a certain bearing becoming his position. Once he slowed down, pointing up at the sky, Look, he murmured, in the Martian Hill dialect, see that? Two dots circled lazily. Martian patrol craft. The military on the outlook for any sign of unusual activity.

War was almost ready to break out with terror any day, almost any moment. We'll be just in time, Eric said. Tomorrow will be too late. The last ship will have left Mars. I hope nothing stops us, Mara said. I want to get back home when we're through. Half an hour passed. They neared the city, the walls growing as they walked, rising higher and higher,

until it seemed to blot out the sky itself. A vast wall, a wall of eternal stone that had felt the wind and sun for centuries. A group of Martian soldiers were standing at the entrance, the single passage gate hewed into the rock leading to the city. As each person went through, the soldiers examined him, poking his garments, looking into his load. Eric tensed. The line had slowed almost to a halt. It'll be our turn soon, he murmured, be prepared.

Let's hope no leoters come around, Jan said. The soldiers aren't so bad. Mara was staring up at the wall and the towers beyond. Under their feet, the ground trembled. and shaking. She could see tongues of flame rising from the towers, from the deep underground factories and forges of the city. The air was thick and dense with particles of soot. Mara rubbed her mouth, coughing. "'Here they come,' Eric said softly. The merchants had been examined and allowed to pass through the dark gate the entrance

through the wall into the city. They and their silent animals had already disappeared inside. The leader of the group of soldiers was beckoning impatiently to Eric, waving him on. Come along, he said, hurry up there, old man. Eric advanced slowly. His arms wrapped around his body, looking down at the ground. Who are you, and what's your business here? The soldier demanded. His hands on his hips, his gun hanging idly at his waist.

Most of the soldiers were lounging lazily, leaning against the wall, some even squatting in the shade. Flies crawled on the face of one who had fallen asleep, his gun on the ground beside him. "'My business?' Eric murmured. "'I am a village priest. Why do you want to enter the city?' "'I must bring these two people before the magistrate to marry them.' He indicated Mara and Jan, standing a little behind him.

That is the law the leitres have made. The soldier laughed. He circled around, Eric. What do you have in that bag you carry?' Laundry? We stay the night. Where village are you from? Kronos.

Kronos. The soldier looked to a companion. Ever heard of Kronos? Hey, backward pigs die. I saw it once on a hunting trip. The leader of the soldiers nodded to Jan and Mara. The two of them advanced, their hands clasped, standing close together. One of the soldiers put his hand on Mara's bare shoulder, turning her around.

Nice little wife you're getting, he said. said, good and firm-looking. He winked, grinning lewdly. Jan glanced at him in sullen resentment. The soldiers go forward. All right, the leader said to Eric, you people can pass. Eric took a small purse from his robes and gave the soldier a coin. Then the three of them went into the dark tunnel that was the entrance, passing through the wall of stone into the city beyond. They were within the city. Now, Eric whispered. whispered, hurry. Around them the city roared and cracked, the sound of a thousand vents and machines, shaking

the stones under their feet. Eric led Mara and Jan into a corner by a row of brick warehouses. People were everywhere, hurrying back and forth, shouting above the den, merchants, paddlers, soldiers, street women. Eric bent down and opened the case he carried. From the case, he quickly took three small coils of fine metal. intricate meshed wires and veins worked together into a small cone. Jan took one and Mara took one.

Eric put the remaining cone into his robe and snapped the case shut. Now remember, the coils must be buried in such a way that the line runs through the center of the city. We must trisect the main section, where the largest concentration of buildings is. Remember the maps. Watch the alleys and streets carefully. Talk to no one if you can help it. Each of you has enough Martian money to buy your way out of trouble.

Watch especially for cut-purses, and for heaven's sake, don't get lost. Eric broke off. Two black-clad leoters were coming along the inside of the wall, strolling together with their hands behind their backs. They noticed the three who stood in the corner by the warehouses and stopped. Go, Eric muttered, and be back here at sundown. He smiled grimly, or never come. back. Each went off a different way, walking quickly without looking back. The Leiters watched

them go. The little bride was quite lovely, when Leiter said. Those hill people have the stamp of nobility in their blood from the old times. A very lucky young peasant to possess her, the other said. They went on. Eric looked after them still smiling a little. Then he joined the surging mass of people that milled eternally through the streets. of the city. End of Section 2. Section No. 3 of the Crystal Cripped by Philip K. Dick. This Libre Box recording is in the public domain.

At dusk they met outside the gate. The sun was soon to set and the air had turned thin and frigid. It cut through their clothing like knives. Mara huddled against Jan, trembling and rubbing her bare arms. Well, Eric said, did you both succeed? Around them the peasants and merchants were pouring from the entrance, leaving the city to return to their farms and villages, starting the long trip back across the plain toward the hills beyond.

None of them noticed the shivering girl and the young man and the old priest standing by the wall. Mines's in place, Jan said, on the other side of the city, on the extreme edge, buried by a well. Mines in the industrial section, Mara whispered, her teeth chattering. Jan, give me something to put over me. I'm freezing." Good, Erick said. Then the three coils should trisect dead center if the models were correct. He looked up at the darkening sky.

Already stars were beginning to show. Two dots the evening patrol moved slowly toward the horizon. Let's hurry. It won't be long. They joined the line of Martians moving along the road away from the city. Behind them the city was losing itself in the somber tones of night, its black spires disappearing into darkness. They walked silently with the country people until the flat ridge of dead trees became

visible on the horizon. Then they left the road and turned off, walking toward the trees. Almost time, Eric said. He increased his pace looking back at Jan and Mara impatiently. Come on! They hurried, making their way through the twilight, stumbling over rocks and dead branches up the side of the ridge. At the top, Eric halted, standing with his hands on his hips looking back.

"'See?' he murmured. "'The city. The last time we'll ever see it this way.' "'Can I sit down?' Mara said. "'My feet hurt me.' Jan pulled at Eric's sleeve. "'Hurry, Eric, not much time left. He laughed nervously.

"'If everything goes right, we'll be able to look at it forever.' But not like this, Eric murmured. He squatted down, snapping his case open. He took some tubes and wiring out and assembled them together on the ground, at the peak of the ridge. A small pyramid of wire and plastic grew shaped by his expert hands. At last he grunted, standing up, all right. Is it pointed directly at the city?

Mara asked anxiously, looking down at the pyramid. Eric nodded. Yes, it's placed according. He stopped, suddenly stiffening. Get back. It's time. Hurry! Jan ran, down the far side of the slope, away from the city, pulling Mara with him.

Eric came quickly after, still looking back at the distant spires, almost lost in the night sky. Down! Jan sprawled out. Mara beside him, her trembling body pressed against his. Eric settled down into the sand and dead branches. still trying to see. I want to see it, he murmured. A miracle!

I want to see. A flash, a blinding burst of violet light, lit up the sky. Eric clapped his hands over his eyes. The flash whitened, growing larger, expanding. Suddenly there was a roar, and a furious hot wind rushed past him, throwing him on his face in the sand.

The hot dry wind licked and seared at them, crackling the bits of branches into flame. Mara and Jan shut their eyes, pressed tightly together. God! Eric muttered. The storm passed. They opened their eyes slowly. The sky was still alive with fire,

a drifting cloud of sparks that was beginning to dissipate with the night wind. Eric stood up unsteadily, helping Jan and Mara to their feet. The three of them stood, staring silently across the dark, waste, the black plain, none of them speaking. The city was gone. At last, Eric turned away. That part's done. He said, now the rest. Give me a hand, Jan. There'll be a thousand patrol ships around here in a minute. I see one already, Mara said, pointing up. A spot winked in the sky, a rapidly moving spot. They're coming, Eric. There was a throb of chill fear in her voice. I know.

Eric and Jan squatted on the ground around the pyramid of tubes and plastic, pulling the pyramid apart. The pyramid was fused, fused together like molten glass. Eric tore the pieces away with trembling fingers. From the remains of the pyramid he pulled something forth, something he held up high, trying to make it out in the darkness. Jan and Mara came close to see, both staring up intently, almost without breathing. There it is, Eric said, there.

In his hand was a globe, a small transparent globe of glass. Within the glass something moved, something minute and fragile. Spires almost too small to be seen, microscopic, a complex web swimming within the hollow glass globe. A web of spires, a city. Eric put the globe into the case and snapped it shut. Let's go, he said. They began to lope back through the trees, back the way they had come before.

We'll change in the car. He said as they ran. I think we should keep these clothes on until we're actually inside the car. We still might encounter someone. I'll be glad to get my own clothing on again, Chan said. I feel funny in these little pants. How do you think I feel? Mara gasped.

I'm freezing in this. What there is of it. All young Martian brides dressed that way, Eric said. He clutched the case tightly as they ran. I think it looks fine. Thank you, Mara said, but it's cold. What do you suppose they'll think, Jan asked. They'll assume the city was destroyed, won't they?

That's certain. Yes, Eric said. They'll be sure it was blown up. We can count on that. And it will be damn important to us that they think so. The car should be around here someplace, Mara said, slowing down. No, farther on, Eric said. Past that little hill over there in the ravine by the trees.

It's so hard to see where we are. Shall I light something, Jan said? No, there may be patrols around who— He halted abruptly. Jan and Mara stopped beside him. What, Mara began? A light glimmered. Something stirred in the darkness.

There was a sound. Quick, Eric rasped. He dropped, throwing the case far away from him into the bushes. He straightened up tensely. A figure loomed up, moving through the darkness, and behind it came more figures, men, soldiers in uniform. The light flashed up brightly, blinding them. Eric closed his eyes.

The light left him, touched Mara and Jan, standing silently together, clasping hands. Then it flicked down to the ground and around in a circle. A leiter stepped forward. A tall figure in black with his soldiers close behind him, their guns ready. You three, the leiter said. Who are you? Don't move.

Stand where you are. He came up to Eric, peering at him intently, his hard Martian face without expression. He went all around Eric, examining his robes, his sleeves. Please, Eric began in a quavering voice. But the leiter caught him off. I'll do the talking. Who are you three? What are you doing here? Speak up.

We—we are going back to our village, Eric muttered, staring down, his hands folded. We were in the city, and now we are going home. One of the officers spoke into a mouthpiece. He clicked it off and put it away. Come with me, the leitist said. We're taking you in. Hurry along. In?

Back to the city? One of the soldiers laughed. The city is gone, he said. All that's left of it you can put in the pawn. of your hand." But what happened?" Mara said. No one knows.

Come on. Hurry it up. There was a sound. A soldier came quickly out of the darkness. A senior leiter, he said, coming this way. He disappeared again. A senior leiter. The soldier stood waiting, standing at a respectful attention.

A moment later the senior leiter stepped into the light. A black-clad old man. His ancient face, thick, and his ancient face, thin and hard like a bird's, eyes bright and alert. He looked from Eric to Jan. "'Who are these people?' he demanded. "'Villagers going back home.' "'No, they're not.

They don't stand like villagers. Villagers slump. Diet, poor food. These people are not villagers. I myself came from the hills, and I know.' He stepped close to Eric, looking keenly into his face. Who are you? Look at his chin.

He never shaved with a sharpened stone. Something is wrong here. In his hand a rod of pale fire flashed. The city is gone, and with it at least half the leiter council. It is very strange. A flash, then heat and a wind, but it was not fission. I am puzzled. All at once the city has vanished.

is left but a depression in the sand. We'll take them in, the other Leiter said. Soldiers surround them, make certain that— Run! Eric cried. He struck out, knocking the rod from the senior Leiter's hand. They were all running. Soldiers shouting, flashing their lights, stumbling against each other in the darkness.

Eric dropped to his knees, groping frantically in the bushes. His fingers closed over the handle of the case, and he leaped up. In Terran, he shouted to Mara and Jan, Hurry, to the car, run! He sat off down the slope, stumbling through the darkness. He could hear soldiers behind him, soldiers running and falling. A body collided against him, and he struck out. Some place behind him there was a hiss and a section of the slope, went up in flames,

the leiter's rod. Eric! Mara cried from the darkness. He ran toward her. Suddenly he slipped, falling on a side of her. stone, confusion and firing, the sound of excited voices. "'Herick, is that you?' Jan caught hold of him, helping him up.

The car. It's over here. Where's Mara?" "'I'm here,' Mara's voice came. Over here by the car." A light flashed. A tree went up in a puff of fire, and Eric felt the singe of the heat against his face. He and Jan made their way toward the girl.

Mara's hand caught his in the darkness. Now the car, Eric said, if they haven't got to it. He slid down the slope into the ravine, fumbling in the darkness, reaching and holding on to the handle of the case, reaching, reaching. He touched something cold and smooth. Metal, a metal door handle. Relief flooded through him. I found it.

Jan, get inside. Mara, come on. He pushed Jan past him into the car. Mara slipped in after Jan. her small, agile body crowding in beside him. "'Stop!' a voice shouted from above. "'There's no use hiding in that ravine. We'll get you. Come up in.' The sound of voices was drowned out by the roar of the car's motor.

A moment later they shot into the darkness, the car rising into the air. Treetops broke and cracked under them as Eric turned the car from side to side, avoiding the groping shafts of pale light from below, the last furious thrusts from the two leiters and their soldiers. Then they were away, above the trees, high in the air, gaining speed each moment, leaving the knot of Martians far behind. Toward Morrisport, Jan said to Eric, right? Eric nodded. Yes, we'll land outside the field in the hills. We can change back to our regular clothing there.

Our commercial clothing—dammit, we'll be lucky if we can get there in time for the ship. The last ship, Mara whispered, her chest rising and falling. What if we don't get there in time? Eric looked down at the leather case in his lap. We'll have to get there, he murmured. We must. For a long time, there was silence. Thatcher stared at Erickson.

The older man was leaning back in his chair, sipping a little of his drink. Mara and Jan were silent. "'So you didn't destroy the city,' Thatcher said. You didn't destroy it at all. You shrank it down and put it in a glass globe, in a paperweight. And now you're salesman again with a sample case of office supplies.' Erickson smiled. He opened the briefcase and reaching into it.

He brought out the glass globe paperweight. He held it up, looking into it. Yes. We stole the city from the Martians. That's how we got by the lie detector. It was true that we knew nothing about a destroyed city. But why? Thatcher said.

Why steal a city? Why not merely bomb it? Ransom, Mara said fervently, gazing into the globe, her dark eyes bright. Their biggest city, half of their council, in Eric's hand. Mars will have to do what Terra asks, Erickson said. Now Terra will be able to make her commercial demands felt. Maybe there won't even be a war. Perhaps Terra will get her away without fighting. Still smiling, he put the globe back into the briefcase and locked it. Quite a story, Thatcher said. What an amazing

process. Reduction of size? A whole city? Reduced to microscopic dimensions? Amazing! No wonder you were able to escape. We're such daring as that no one could hope to stop you. He looked down to the briefcase on the floor. Underneath them, the jets murmured and vibrated evenly as the ship moved through space toward distant Terra. "'We still have quite a way to go,' Jan said. "'You've heard our story, Thatcher. Why not tell us yours?

What sort of line are you in? What's your business?' "'Yes, Mara said, what do you do?' "'What do I do?' Thatcher said. "'Well, if you like, I'll show you.' He reached into his coat and brought out something. something that flashed and glinted, something slender, a rod of pale fire.

The three stared at it. Second shock settled over them slowly. Thatcher held the rod loosely, calmly, pointing it at Erickson. We knew you three were on this ship, he said. There was no doubt of that. But we did not know what had become of the city. My theory was that the city had not been destroyed at all. That something else had happened to it.

Council instruments measured a sudden loss of mass in that area, a decrease equal to the mass of the city. Somehow the city had been spirited away, not destroyed. But I could not convince the other council leiters of it. I had to follow you alone. Thatcher turned a little, nodding to the men sitting at the bar. The men rose at once, coming toward the table. A very interesting process you have.

Mars will benefit a great deal from it. Perhaps it will even turn the tide in our favor. When we return to Marsport, I wish to begin work on it at once. And now, if you will please pass me the briefcase. End of Section 3 and End of the Crystal Crypt by Philip K. Dick. Beyond the Door by Philip K. Dick. This Libre Box recording is in the public domain. That night at the dinner table he brought it out and set it down beside her plate.

Doris stared at it, her hand to her mouth. My God, what is it? She looked up at him, bright-eyed. Well, open it. Doris tore the ribbon and paper from the square package with her sharp nails, her bosom rising and falling. Larry stood watching her as she lifted the lid. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall.

A cuckoo-clock, Doris cried. A real old cuckoo-clock like my mother had. She turned the clock over and over, just like my mother had. When Pete was still alive, her eyes sparkled with tears. "'It's made in Germany,' Larry said. After a moment he added, "'Carl got it for me wholesale. He knows some guy in the clock business.

Otherwise I wouldn't have—' He stopped. Doris made a funny little sound. "'I mean, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to afford it,' he scowled. "'What's the matter with you? You've got your clock, haven't you? Isn't that what you want?' Dora sat holding onto the clock. Her fingers pressed against the brown wood.

Well, Larry said, what's the matter? He watched in amazement as she leaped up and ran from the room still clutching the clock. He shook his head. Never satisfied. They're all that way. Never get enough. He sat down at the table and finished his meal. The cuckoo clock was not very large. It was handmade, however, and there were countless frets on it. Little indentations and ornaments scored in the soft wood. Dora sat on the bed drying her eyes and winding the clock.

She set the hands by her wristwatch. Presently she carefully moved the hands to two minutes of ten. She carried the clock over to the dresser and propped it up. Then she sat waiting. Her hands twisted together in her lap. lap, waiting for the cuckoo to come out, for the hour to strike. As she sat she thought about Larry and what he had said, and what she had said, too, for that matter, not that she could be blamed for any of it. After all, she couldn't keep listening

to him forever without defending herself. You had to blow your own trumpet in the world. She touched her handkerchief to her eyes suddenly. Why did he have to say that about getting it wholesale? Why did he have to spoil it all? If he felt that way he needn't have got it in the first place. She clenched her fists. He was so mean, so damn mean. But she was glad of the little clock sitting there ticking to itself, with its funny, grilled edges and the door.

Inside the door was the cuckoo waiting to come out. Was he listening? His head cocked on one side, listening to hear the clock struck. so that he would know to come out?" Did he sleep between hours? Well, she would soon see him. She would ask him. And she would show the clock to Bob.

He would love it. Bob loved old things, even old stamps and buttons. He liked to go with her to the stores. Of course it was a little awkward, but Larry had been staying at the office so much, and that helped. If only Larry didn't call up sometimes to— times to, there was a whir. The clock shuddered and all at once the door opened. The cuckoo came out sliding swiftly. He paused and looked around solemnly, scrutinizing her,

the room, the furniture. It was the first time he had seen her, she realized, smiling to herself in pleasure. She stood up, coming toward him shyly. Go on. She said, I'm waiting. The cuckoo opened his bill. He whirred and chirped. quickly, rhythmically. Then, after a moment of contemplation, he retired, and the door snapped shut. She was delighted. She clapped her hands and spun in a little circle. He was marvelous. Perfect.

And the way he had looked around, studying her, sizing her up, he liked her. She was certain of it. And she, of course, loved him at once completely. He was just what she had hoped would come out of the little door. Doris went to the clock. She bent over the little door, her lips close to the wood. Do you hear me? she whispered. I think you're the most wonderful cuckoo in the world.

She paused, embarrassed. I hope you'll like it here. Then she went downstairs again slowly, her head high. Larry and the cuckoo clock really never got along. well from the start. Doris said it was because he didn't wind it right, and it didn't like being only half-wound all the time. Larry turned the job of winding over to her. The cuckoo came out every quarter hour and ran the spring down without remorse, and someone had to be ever after it winding it up again. Doris did her best, but she forgot a good deal of the time.

Then Larry would throw his newspaper down with an a lot of deliberate, weary motion and stand up. He would go into the dining room where the clock was mounted on the wall over the fireplace. He would take the clock down and making sure that he had his thumb over the little door. He would wind it up. Why do you put your thumb over the door?" Doris asked once. "'You're supposed to.' She raised an eyebrow. Are you sure? I wonder if it isn't that you don't want him to come out while you're standing so close. Why not? Maybe. Maybe he's a Maybe you're afraid of him."

Larry laughed. He put the clock back on the wall and gingerly removed his thumb. When Doris wasn't looking, he examined his thumb. There was still a trace of the nick cut out of the soft part of it. Who or what had pecked at him. One Saturday morning, when Larry was down at the office, working over some important special accounts, Bob Chambers came to the front porch and rang the bell.

Doris was taking a quick shower. She dried herself and slipped into her robe. When she opened the door, Bob stepped inside, grinning. Hi, he said, looking around. It's all right, Larry's at the office. Fine. Bob gazed at her slim legs below the hem of the robe. How nice you look today.

She laughed. Be careful. Maybe I shouldn't let you in after all. They looked at one another, half amused, half frightened. Presently, Bob said, If you want, I'll—no, for God's sake. She caught hold of his sleeve. Just get out of the doorway so I can close it. Mrs. Peters across the street, you know."

She closed the door, and I want to show you something. She said you haven't seen it. He was interested. An antique, or what? She took his arm leading him toward the dining room. You love it, Bobby. She stopped, wide-eyed. I hope you will.

You must. You must love it. It means so much to me. He means so much. He? Bob frowned. Who is he? Doris laughed. You're jealous. Come on. A moment later they stood before the clock, looking up at it. He'll come out in a few minutes. Wait until you see him. I know you two will get along just fine. What does Larry think of him? They don't like each other. Sometimes when Larry's here, he won't come out. Larry gets mad if he doesn't come out on time. He says, says what? Doris looked down. He always says he's been robbed, even if he did get it wholesale. She brightened, but I know he won't come out because he doesn't like Larry. When I'm here alone, he comes right out for me every fifteen minutes, even though he really

only has to come out on the hour. She gazed up at the clock. He comes out for me. He comes out for me because he wants to. We talk. I tell him things. Of course, I'd like to have him upstairs in my room, but it wouldn't be right. There was the sound of footsteps on the front porch. They looked at each other, horrified. Larry pushed the front door open, grunting. He set his briefcase down and took off his hat. Then he saw Bob for the first time. Chambers! I'll be damned. His eyes narrowed. What are you doing here? He came into the dining-room. Doris drew her robe about her helplessly, backing away. I—Bob began.

That is, we—he broke off, glancing at Doris. Suddenly the clock began to whir. The cuckoo came rushing out, bursting into sound. Larry moved toward him. Shut that din off, he said. He raised his fist toward the clock. The cuckoo snapped into silence and retreated. The door closed.

That's better. Larry studied Doris and Bob, standing mutely together. I came over to look at the clock, Bob said. Doris told me that it's a rare antique and that— Nuts, I bought it myself. Larry walked up to him. Get out of here. He turned to Doris.

You, too, and take that damn clock with you. He paused, rubbing his chin. No, leave the clock here. It's mine. I bought it and paid for it. In the weeks that followed after Doris left, Larry and the cuckoo clock got along even worse than before. For one thing, the cuckoo stayed inside most of the time, sometimes even at twelve o'clock

when he should have been busiest. And if he did come out at all, he usually spoke only once or twice, never the correct number of times. And there was a sullen, uncooperative note in his voice. a jarring sound that made Larry uneasy and a little angry. But he kept the clock wound because the house was very still and quiet, and it got on his nerves not to hear someone running around, talking and dropping things, and even the whirring of a clock sounded good to him.

But he didn't like the cuckoo at all, and sometimes he spoke to him. Listen, he said late one night to the closed little door. I ought to give you back to the Germans, back to the Black Forest." He paced back and forth. I wonder what they're doing now, the two of them. That young punk with his books and his antiques. A man shouldn't be interested in antiques. That's for women.

He set his jaw. Isn't that right? The clock said nothing. Larry walked up in front of it. Isn't that right? He demanded. Don't you have anything. to say?"

He looked at the face of the clock. It was almost eleven, just a few seconds before the hour. All right. I'll wait until eleven. Then I want to hear what you have to say. You've been pretty quiet the last few weeks since she left." He grinned, Riley. Maybe you don't like it here since she's gone.

He scowled. Well, I paid for you and you're coming out whether you like it or not. You hear me?" Eleven o'clock came. Far off at the end of the town. The great tower clock boomed sleepily to itself. But the little door remained shut. Nothing moved.

The minute hand passed on, and the cuckoo did not stir. He was some place inside the clock beyond the door, silent and remote. All right, if that's the way you feel, Larry murmured. his lips twisting, but it isn't fair. It's your job to come out. We all have to do things we don't like." He went unhappily into the kitchen and opened the great gleaming refrigerator. As he poured himself a drink he thought about the clock. There was no doubt about it. The cuckoo should come out, Doris or no Doris. He had always liked her from the very start. They had got along well, the two of them. Probably he liked

Bob, too. Probably he had seen enough of Bob to get to know him. They would be quite happy together. Bob and Doris and the cuckoo. Larry finished his drink. He opened the drawer at the sink and took out the hammer. He carried it carefully into the dining room. The clock was ticking gently to itself on the wall. Look, he said, waving the hammer. You know what I have here? You know what I'm going to do with it? I'm going to start on you first. He smiled. Birds of a feather, that's what you are, the three of you. The room was silent. Are you coming out, or do I have to come in and get you? The clock word a little. I hear you in there. You've got a lot of talking to do enough for the last

three weeks. As I figure it, you owe me, the door opened. The cuckoo came up. The cuckoo came up. fast, straight at him. Larry was looking down, his brow wrinkled and thought. He glanced up, and the cuckoo caught him squarely in the eye. Down he went hammer and chair and everything, hitting the floor with a tremendous crash. For a moment the cuckoo paused, its small body poised rigidly. Then it went back inside its house. The door snapped tight shut after it. The man lay on the floor, stretched out grotesquely, his head bent over to one side. Nothing moved or stirred.

The room was completely silent, except, of course, for the ticking of the clock. I see, Doris said her face tight. Bob put his arm around her, studying her. Doctor, Bob said, can I ask you something? Of course, the doctor said. Is it very easy to break your neck falling from? from so low a chair? It wasn't very far to fall. I wonder if it might not have been an accident. Is there any chance it might have been? Suicide? The doctor rubbed his jaw. I never heard of

anyone committing suicide that way. It was an accident. I'm positive. I don't mean suicide, Bob murmured under his breath. Looking up at the clock on the wall, I meant something else. But no one heard him. End of Beyond the Door by Philip K. Dick. End of The Crystal Crypt and Beyond the Door by Philip K. Dick.