The Game-Players of Titan

The Game-Players of Titan

Philip K. Dick

Language: English

Pages: 240

ISBN: 0547572433

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Years ago, Earth and Titan fought a war and Earth lost. The planet was irradiated and most of the surviving population is sterile. The few survivors play an intricate and unending game called Bluff at the behest of the slug-like aliens who rule the planet. At stake in the game are two very important commodities: land and spouses. Pete Garden just lost his wife and Berkeley, California, but he has a plan to win them back. That is, if he isn’t derailed by aliens, psychic traitors, or his new wife.

The Game-Players of Titan is both satire and adventure, examining the ties that bind people together and the maddening peccadilloes of bureaucracy, whether the bureaucrats are humans or alien slugs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before the full-length mirror in the apartment’s bathroom he stared at himself, concluded that he looked, while not stunning, at least adequate. And then, noiselessly, he set off, out of the apartment and down the stairs to the ground floor. “Hi, kids,” he said to Kelly and Jessica. “Hi, Mr. Bindman,” they murmured, absorbed. “Where can I find your mother?” he asked them. They both pointed. Pete, taking a deep breath of sweet early-morning air, walked that way with fast strides, feeling

I’ve been sitting out here in the car waiting for you. And you just now came out of that alley and began yelling.” “I see,” he said. He lay back against the seat. “I feel sick. I wish I was home.” Mary Anne McClain said, “I’ll drive you home, Mr. Garden.” The car now had lifted into the sky; Pete shut his eyes. “How’d I get mixed up with that vug?” he said, after a time. “What vug?” “In the bar. I guess. Doctor something Philipson.” “How would I know? They wouldn’t let me in.” “Well, was

way home? Probably when I first figured it out, when I was talking to Doctor Philipson. “Carol,” he said, “I know who killed Luckman.” “Who?” she said, still awake. “We all did,” Pete said. “All six of us who’ve lost our memories. Janice Remington, Silvanus Angst and his wife, Clem Gaines, Bill Calumine’s wife and myself; we did it acting under the influence of the vugs.” He held out the match folder to her. “Read what I wrote, here. In case I didn’t remember; in case they tampered with my

on Luckman’s desk yawped, now, hoping for breakfast; Luckman pushed it away and it hopped to the floor. “Parasite,” Luckman said to it, but he felt fond of the cat; he believed devoutly that cats were lucky. He had had two toms with him in the condominium apartment that night when he had beaten Joe Schilling; perhaps they had done it, rather than a latent Psionic talent. “I have Dave Mutreaux on the vid,” his secretary said. “He’s standing by. Do you want to speak to him personally?” “If he’s a

them.” He lay supine, staring up at the stars through the transparent dome of the car. “I love you, though; I’ve had you for years. You’re never going to wear out.” He felt tears rise up in his eyes. “Is that all right?” “It depends on the preventative maintenance you faithfully follow.” “I wonder what kind of woman they’ll import for me.” “I wonder,” the car echoed. What other group was his group—Pretty Blue Fox—in closest contact with? Probably Straw Man Special, which met in Las Vegas and

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