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. 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. THE SKULL SKULL By Philip K. Dick "What is this opportunity?" Conger asked. "Go on. I'm interested." "What 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. The car slid to a stop. It was night; there was no light anywhere along the street. Conger looked out. "Where are we? What is this place?" The The hand of the guard pressed into his arm. "Come. Through that door." Conger stepped down, onto the damp sidewalk. The guard came swiftly after him, and then the Speaker. Conger took a deep breath of the cold air. He studied the dim outline of the building rising up before them. "I know this place. I've seen it before." He squinted, his eyes growing accustomed to the dark.
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