"All right," she said. "Let's take a chance, if you want to. We'll go to that other shelter—with people in it."
But when they got to the top of the stairs and stepped into the living room, the lights went on, the Tevee came to color-sound-life again.
The air-raid warning was over.
A smiling face materialized out of the wavery lines.
"The threat of the air-raid is over. Due to our wonderful cooperative spirit, the enemy's cowardly attack accomplished little except the minor destruction of a few scattered points. We're sure now that anyone who has not ordered our Cozy-Corner Air-Raid Shelter will do so without further delay! It comes equipped, remember, with three-dimensional Tevee. There is the illusion of real people—"
Over fifty million air-raid shelters were sold within an hour.
But Alice wasn't concerned about that. She gave Kelsey a sedative and put him to bed, and then she went to her dark closet and stood in it until Wednesday morning. She had time to think about things, and a wonderful calm came over her, and she knew she didn't care what happened to her now. She was strong enough to live alone, and take whatever was coming to her without fear.
When she shook Kelsey awake Wednesday morning and told him she was Alice, he laughed, shocked and incredulous, trying to appear amused. But she told him about the order blank, and convinced him she really was Alice and Anita Starre did not exist.
He ran and called a robot repair clinic. He was almost incoherent, trying to tell the clinic what had happened, but they finally understood and said they would be right out to take the domestic away.
He seemed frightened as he looked at her.