He emptied his pipe, refilled it. "Swell day. Makes you glad to be alive." Buzz. "What's that?" asked Henry. "I don't know." She got up, suddenly, her eyes widening. She was going to say something. She stopped it. Ridiculous. Her nerves jumped. "Those children haven't anything dangerous out there, have they?" she said. "Nothing but pipes and hammers. Why?" "Nothing electrical?" "Heck, no," said Henry. "I looked." She walked to the kitchen. The buzzing continued. "Just the same you'd better go tell them to quit. It's after five. Tell them--" Her eyes widened and narrowed. "Tell them to put off their Invasion until tomorrow." She laughed, nervously. The buzzing grew louder. "What are they up to? I'd better go look, all right." The explosion! * * * * * The house shook with dull sound. There were other explosions in other yards on other streets. Involuntarily, Mrs. Morris screamed. "Up this way!" she cried, senselessly, knowing no sense, no reason. Perhaps she saw something from the corners of her eyes, perhaps she smelled a new odor or heard a new noise. There was no time to argue with Henry to convince him. Let him think her insane. Yes, insane! Shrieking, she ran upstairs. He ran after her to see what she was up to. "In the attic!" she screamed. "That's where it is!" It was only a poor excuse to get him in the attic in time--oh God, in time! Another explosion outside. The children screamed with delight, as if at a great fireworks display. "It's not in the attic!" cried Henry. "It's outside!" "No, no!" Wheezing, gasping, she fumbled at the attic door. "I'll show you. Hurry! I'll show you!" They tumbled into the attic. She slammed the door, locked it, took the key, threw it into a far, cluttered corner. She was babbling wild stuff now. It came out of her. All the subconscious suspicion and fear that had gathered secretly all afternoon and fermented like a wine in her. All the little revelations and knowledges and sense that had bothered her all day and which she had logically and carefully and sensibly rejected and censored. Now it exploded in her and shook her to bits. "There, there," she said, sobbing against the door. "We're safe until tonight. Maybe we can sneak out, maybe we can escape!" Henry blew up, too, but for another reason. "Are you crazy? Why'd you throw that key away! Damn it, honey!" "Yes, yes, I'm crazy, if it helps, but stay here with me!" "I don't know how in hell I _can_ get out!" "Quiet. They'll hear us. Oh, God, they'll find us soon enough--" Below them, Mink's voice. The husband stopped. There was a great universal humming and sizzling, a screaming and giggling. Downstairs, the audio-televisor buzzed and buzzed insistently, alarmingly, violently. _Is that Helen calling?_ thought Mrs. Morris. _And is she calling about what I_ think _she's calling about_? Footsteps came into the house. Heavy footsteps.