After a brief silence, the man warned, "House! See this thing in my hand? You behave yourself or I'll disintegrate your...." He let the sentence dangle, unable to think of what he would disintegrate.

"Yes, sir," the house replied. It was an automatic response to any statement.

"Now, turn the lights on or I'll use this gun to make one big mess of your floors and walls. Your owners wouldn't like that, would they?"

"No, sir."

It turned the lights on. If it didn't, they would use their flashlights, and by turning them on it might prevent some destruction.

The woman chuckled. "You're a genius!"

When they finished their search of the living room, the man suggested, "Let's search different rooms. You take a bedroom. I'll take the dining room. No telling where the safe is. They put it in a different place in every house."

The house waited, its electronic brain whirling.

It made a decision.

Silently, the house erected an invisible energy screen around the dining room. The screens were designed to block collective sounds of the entire house from any room and provide it with a comforting serenity.

Now, the house thought, the sound-screens will be most useful!

The house watched as the man in the wrinkled brown tunic examined a table.

Silently, panels in the walls opened.

A dozen machines a foot in diameter converged at a position behind the man's back.

The machines moved simultaneously, silently. They attached themselves to the intruder's body. They dusted and scrubbed him thoroughly, as if he were a piece of furniture or a floor.

The man screamed and fired wildly with the gun. The small machines crumpled one by one.

Click ... click ... click.

"Your weapon is empty," the house observed.

The man threw the gun at a window. It bounced off the hard plastic and clattered on the floor.

 Prev. P 5/9 next