The angry house
"Please stop," the house implored.

The strangers did not reply.

An unpleasant sensation rippled through the house's electrical circuits. It wanted to make its owners happy. They wouldn't be happy when they returned and saw the ruined furniture. They would be sad, perhaps angry. She would cry and he would frown.

It tried again, "Please stop."

The woman was removing books from the bookcase; the man continued searching the furniture.

They wouldn't stop when it asked them to. If it only had the burglar devices! Now, there was no way for it to fight.

Or is there? it wondered.

The lights went off.

"Turn the lights on!" the woman screamed.

"No."

"Use the flashlight," the man said.

Simultaneously, two beams of light slashed through the darkened room. The strangers resumed their search.

The house thought, They're trying to find the safe containing the money and jewels. I can't tell them where it is.

I can't stop them. I need help.

It cut into the phone circuits and dialed the number of its factory. The phone's visiscreen flared with light and a woman's face appeared smiling.

"Johnson Construction Company."

The house projected its voice toward the mouthpiece. "Please, let me speak to—"

The man removed a weapon from his tunic. The phone and visiscreen vanished, leaving only small metal fragments that fell to the carpet.

"It was using the phone!" the woman exclaimed shrilly, trembling in the darkness.

"Don't worry," the man said. "They didn't have time to trace the call. The room was dark; they couldn't see who was calling."


 Prev. P 4/9 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact