SIX STORIES by Robert A. Heinlein

By arrangement, Teal drove up in front of the Bailey residence the morning after their return to town. He improvised on his two-tone horn. Bailey stuck his head out the front door. “Why don’t you use the bell?”

“Too slow,” answered Teal cheerfully. “I’m a man of action. Is Mrs. Bailey ready? Ah, there you are, Mrs. Bailey! Welcome home, welcome home. Jump in, we’ve got a surprise for you!”

“You know Teal, my dear,” Bailey put in uncomfortably.

Mrs. Bailey sniffed. “I know him. We’ll go in our own car, Homer.”

“Certainly, my dear.”

“Good idea,” Teal agreed; ” ‘sgot more power than mine; we’ll get there faster. I’ll drive, I know the way.” He took the keys from Bailey, slid into the driver’s seat, and had the engine started before Mrs. Bailey could rally her forces.

“Never have to worry about my driving,” he assured Mrs. Bailey, turning his head as he did so, while he shot the powerful car down the avenue and swung onto Sunset Boulevard, “it’s a matter of power and control, a dynamic process, just my meat-I’ve never had a serious accident.”

“You won’t have but one,” she said bitingly. “Will you please keep your eyes on the traffic?”

He attempted to explain to her that a traffic situation was a matter, not of eyesight, but intuitive integration of courses, speeds, and probabilities, but Bailey cut him short. “Where is the house, Quintus?”

“House?” asked Mrs. Bailey suspiciously. “What’s this about a house, Homer? Have you been up to something without telling me?”

Teal cut in with his best diplomatic manner. “It certainly is a house, Mrs. Bailey. And what a house! It’s a surprise for you from a devoted husband. Just wait till you see it-”

“I shall,” she agreed grimly. “What style is it?”

“This house sets a new style. It’s later than television, newer than next week. It must be seen to be appreciated. By the way,” he went on rapidly, heading off any retort, “did you folks feel the earthquake last night?”

“Earthquake? What earthquake? Homer, was there an earthquake?”

“Just a little one,” Teal continued, “about two A.M. If I hadn’t been awake, I wouldn’t have noticed it.”

Mrs. Bailey shuddered. “Oh, this awful country! Do you hear that, Homer? We might have been killed in our beds and never have known it. Why did I ever let you persuade me to leave Iowa?”

“But my dear,” he protested hopelessly, “you wanted to come out to California; you didn’t like Des Moines.”

“We needn’t go into that,” she said firmly. “You are a man; you should anticipate such things. Earthquakes!”

“That’s one thing you needn’t fear in your new home, Mrs. Bailey,” Teal told her. “It’s absolutely earthquake-proof; every part is in perfect dynamic balance with every other part.”

“Well, I hope so. Where is this house?”

“Just around this bend. There’s the sign now.” A large arrow sign of the sort favored by real estate promoters proclaimed in letters that were large and bright even for southern California:

THE HOUSE OF THE FUTURE!!!

COLOSSAL-AMAZING-

REVOLUTIONARY

See How Your Grandchildren

Will Live!

Q. Teal, Architect

“Of course that will be taken down,” he added hastily, noting her expression, “as soon as you take possession.” He slued around the corner and brought the car to a squealing halt in front of the House of the Future. “Voilà!” He watched their faces for response.

Bailey stared unbelievingly, Mrs. Bailey in open dislike. They saw a simple cubical mass, possessing doors and windows, but no other architectural features, save that it was decorated in intricate mathematical designs. “Teal,” Bailey asked slowly, “what have you been up to?”

Teal turned from their faces to the house. Gone was the crazy tower with its jutting second-story rooms. No trace remained of the seven rooms above ground floor level. Nothing remained but the single room that rested on the foundations. “Great jumping cats!” he yelled, “I’ve been robbed!”

He broke into a run.

But it did him no good. Front or back, the story was the same: the other seven rooms had disappeared, vanished completely. Bailey caught up with him, and took his arm. “Explain yourself. What is this about being robbed? How come you built anything like this-it’s not according to agreement.”

Leave a Reply