“Oh, it’s not that bad. I got out once, you know.”
“Yes, but you can’t repeat it — you tried.”
“Anyhow we haven’t tried all the rooms. There’s still the study.”
“Oh, yes, the study. We went through there when we first came in, and didn’t stop. Is it your idea that we might get out through its windows?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Mathematically, it ought to look into the four side rooms on this floor. Still we never opened the blinds; maybe we ought to look.”
“‘Twon’t do any harm anyhow. Dear, I think you had best just stay here and rest — ”
“Be left alone in this horrible place? I should say not!” Mrs. Bailey was up off the couch where she had been recuperating even as she spoke.
They went upstairs. “This is the inside room, isn’t it, Teal?” Bailey inquired as they passed through the master bedroom and climbed on up toward the study. “I mean it was the little cube in your diagram that was in the middle of the big cube, and completely surrounded.”
“That’s right,” agreed Teal. “Well, let’s have a look. I figure this window ought to give into the kitchen.” He grasped the cords of Venetian blinds and pulled them.
It did not. Waves of vertigo shook them. Involuntarily they fell to the floor and grasped helplessly at the pattern on the rug to keep from falling. “Close it! Close it!” moaned Bailey.
Mastering in part a primitive atavistic fear, Teal worked his way back to the window and managed to release the screen. The window had looked down instead of out, down from a terrifying height.
Mrs. Bailey had fainted again.
Teal went back after more brandy while Bailey chafed her wrists. When she had recovered, Teal went cautiously to the window and raised the screen a crack. Bracing his knees, he studied the scene. He turned to Bailey. “Come look at this, Homer. See if you recognize it.”
“You stay away from there, Homer Bailey!”
“Now, Matilda, I’ll be careful.” Bailey joined him and peered out.
“See up there? That’s the Chrysler Building, sure as shooting. And there’s the East River, and Brooklyn.” They gazed straight down the sheer face of an enormously tall building. More than a thousand feet away a toy city, very much alive, was spread out before them. “As near as I can figure it out, we are looking down the side of the Empire State Building from a point just above its tower.
“What is it? A mirage?”
“I don’t think so — it’s too perfect. I think space is folded over through the fourth dimension here and we are looking past the fold.”
“You mean we aren’t really seeing it?”
“No, we’re seeing it all right. I don’t know what would happen if we climbed out this window, but I for one don’t want to try. But what a view! Oh, boy, what a view! Let’s try the other windows.”
They approached the next window more cautiously, and it was well that they did, for it was even more disconcerting, more reason — shaking, than the one looking down the gasping height of the skyscraper. It was a simple seascape, open ocean and blue sky — but the ocean was where the sky should have been, and contrariwise. This time they were somewhat braced for it, but they both felt seasickness about to overcome them at the sight of waves rolling overhead; they lowered the blind quickly without giving Mrs. Bailey a chance to be disturbed by it.
Teal looked at the third window. “Game to try it, Homer?”
“Hrrumph — well, we won’t be satisfied if we don’t. Take it easy.” Teal lifted the blind a few inches. He saw nothing, and raised it a little more — still nothing. Slowly he raised it until the window was fully exposed. They gazed out at — nothing.
Nothing, nothing at all. What color is nothing? Don’t be silly! What shape is it? Shape is an attribute of something. It had neither depth nor form. It had not even blackness. It was nothing.
Bailey chewed at his cigar. “Teal, what do you make of that?”