Free The Philip K. Dick Megapack by Philip K Dick

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 Thacher. “How I hate those black uniforms!”
    “He’s just a Provincial Leiter,” Thacher 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 Leiter 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 business man 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’re 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.
    “Yes, he’s telling the truth,” the box intoned.
    “Next!”
    “Nothing—I know nothing. I had nothing to do with it.”
    “True,” 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 muttered. “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 rod. At last he pushed it back in his belt and signalled 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