By Philip K. Dick
Bob Arctor is a broker of the lethally addictive drug Substance D. Fred is the police agent assigned to tail and at last bust him. to take action, Fred takes at the identification of a drug broker named Bob Arctor. and because Substance D--which Arctor takes in colossal doses--gradually splits the user's mind into certain, combative entities, Fred doesn't detect he's narcing on himself.
Caustically humorous, eerily exact in its depiction of junkies, rip-off artists, and the strolling brain-dead, Philip okay. Dick's industrial-grade pressure attempt of identification is as unnerving because it is mesmerizing.
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Extra info for A Scanner Darkly
Charles Freck watched, mystified, as Jerry rubbed baby oil and talc into the dog’s fur. All over the house, cans of insect spray, bottles of talc, and baby oil and skin conditioners were piled and tossed, most of them empty; he used many cans a day now. “I don’t see any aphids,” Charles said. ” “It eventually kills you,” Jerry said. “That’s what an aphid is. ” Jerry put down the dog, which was wrapped in a towel, and knelt over the shag rug. “I’ll show you one,” he said. The rug was covered with aphids; they hopped up everywhere, up and down, some higher than others.
Then he held it up triumphantly. ” he said. “Yeahhhhh,” Charles Freck said, his eyes wide as he scrutinized the contents of the jar. “What a big one! ” “Help me find more for the doctor to see,” Jerry said, again squatting down on the rug, the jar beside him. “Sure,” Charles Freck said, and did so. Within half an hour they had three jars full of the bugs. Charles, although new at it, found some of the largest. It was midday, in June of 1994. In California; in a tract area of cheap but durable plastic houses, long ago vacated by the straights.
See, they dissolve some reds in a glass of wine, the pushers, I mean—they give the booze to a chick, an underage little chick, with eight to ten reds in it, and she passes out, and then they inject her with a mex hit, which is half heroin and half Substance D—” He broke off. “Thank you,” he said. ” “Kill the pushers,” Arctor said, and walked back to his chair. He did not feel like returning right away to the Orange County Civic Center and Room 430, so he wandered down one of the commercial streets of Anaheim, inspecting the McDonaldburger stands and car washes and gas stations and Pizza Huts and other marvels.
A Scanner Darkly by Philip K. Dick