ly. "But Dyke, we must tell the real estate agent. After all, no one must ever move into that house. It's dangerous, with earth faults under it and doors that won't open and . . ." she shivered.
"Okay, honey. In the morning we'll fly by and tell the agent, if it'll make you feel better."
The agent slowly flipped the pages of the black notebook in which he kept his listings. He gave them a long appraising look.
"Are you sure the house number was 7865?"
They both nodded. Dyke pulled a crumpled scrap of paper from his pocket. "I jotted it down before we went in, in case we should want to contact you about buying the house." He handed the paper to the agent, it said 7865.
The agent picked up a clipboard. He compared a listing to that in the black book. He shook his head slowly with an expression that was half wary and half embarrassed. "Er-you folks must be mistaken. There is no 7865. There's an empty lot between 7863 and 7867."
Lorinda gave a little squeal. "But we were there and there was an earthquake and . . ."
The agent looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Lady, we had a geological survey made of that entire area before the development was started. An earthquake there is virtually impossible. Besides, if there had been a quake, the seismograph at the university would have recorded it. Outside of that bright meteor last night nothing unusual was reported in the area, absolutely nothing. Now, if you folks are interested in a house we have several other nice little . . ."
Lorinda placed both hands firmly on the man's desk and leaned close to him. She repeated in a tight little voice, "But we were there, and the windows wouldn't open and the floor vibrated and the house had no bathr . . ." She caught a warning glance from Dyke.
He placed a protective arm around his wife's shoulders. "Thank you, sir, I guess we . . . well, thank you very much anyway. Good morning." They left the agent shaking his head sadly. They had seemed like such a nice young couple, too.
In the helicar, Lorinda sobbed bitterly. "Ohhh Dyke, you know it happened. And you know it didn't have a bathroom. Who would build a house without a bathroom? Who? Answer me, who?"
Dyke patted her arm absently as he switched on the ignition. "I don't know, honey, I don't know. But you saw the look he gave us—the agent—the way he stared at us. Unless we want the little men with white coats easing us into nice comfortable strait-jackets, we better not say any more about it. Do you understand? Let's try to forget it. We must never mention it again," his hand trembled at the controls, "not even to each other."
