market doesn't amount to more
moneywise than the state of Southern Illinois. Keep it grander, Gussy,
and more impractical--you can't sell people merely useful ideas." From
his hassock in the center of the room he looked uneasily around. "Say,
did that violet tone in the glass come from the high Cleveland
hydrogen bomb or is it just age and ultraviolet, like desert glass?"

* * * * *

"No, somebody's grandfather liked it that color," Gusterson informed
him with happy bitterness. "I like it too--the glass, I mean, not the
tint. People who live in glass houses can see the stars--especially
when there's a window-washing streak in their germ-plasm."

"Gussy, why don't you move underground?" Fay asked, his voice taking
on a missionary note. "It's a lot easier living in one room, believe
me. You don't have to tramp from room to room hunting things."

"I like the exercise," Gusterson said stoutly.

"But I bet Daisy'd prefer it underground. And your kids wouldn't have
to explain why their father lives like a Red Indian. Not to mention
the safety factor and insurance savings and a crypt church within easy
slidewalk distance. Incidentally, we see the stars all the time,
better than you do--by repeater."

"Stars by repeater," Gusterson murmured to the ceiling, pausing for God
to comment. Then, "No, Fay, even if I could afford it--and stand it--I'm
such a bad-luck Harry that just when I got us all safely stowed at the
N minus 1 sublevel, the Soviets would discover an earthquake bomb that
struck from below, and I'd have to follow everybody back to the
treetops. _Hey! How about bubble homes in orbit around earth?_ Micro
Systems could subdivide the world's most spacious suburb and all you
moles could go ellipsing. Space is as safe as there is: no air, no
shock waves. Free fall's the ultimate in restfulness--great health
benefits. Commute by rocket--or better yet stay home and do all your
business by TV-telephone, or by waldo if it were that sort of thing.
Even pet your girl by remote control--she in her bubble, you in yours,
whizzing through vacuum. Oh, damn-damn-_damn_-_damn_-DAMN!"

He was glaring at the blank screen of the TV, his big hands clenching
and unclenching.

"Don't let Fay give you apoplexy--he's not worth it," Daisy said,
sticking her trim head in from the kitchen, while Fay inquired
anxiously, "Gussy, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, you worm!" Gusterson roared, "Except that an hou