The Skull

The Skull by Philip K. Dick - Conger agreed to kill a stranger he had never seen. But he would make no mistakes because he had the stranger's skull under his arm.

'WHAT is this opportunity?' Conger asked. 'Go on. I'm interested.'

The room was silent; all faces were fixed on Conger—still in the drab prison uniform. The Speaker leaned forward slowly.

'Before you went to prison your trading business was paying well—all illegal—all very profitable. Now you have nothing, except the prospect of another six years in a cell.'

Conger scowled.

'There is a certain situation, very important to this Council, that requires your peculiar abilities. Also, it is a situation you might find interesting. You were a hunter, were you not? You've done a great deal of trapping, hiding in the bushes, waiting at night for the game? I imagine hunting must be a source of satisfaction to you, the chase, the stalking—'

Conger sighed. His lips twisted. 'All right,' he said. 'Leave that out. Get to the point. Who do you want me to kill?'

The Speaker smiled. 'All in proper sequence,' he said softly.