"Things worked out pretty well," he said, "until today. I said something wrong—I'm still not sure what—and the man I was talking to hollered for Army, shouted I was a spy." He pounded the chair arm. "But I'm not a spy! And it's the truth, Outside is safe!" He glared suddenly at the window. "Why've you got that drape up there?"
"The window broke down," I explained. "It's stuck at transparent."
"Transparent? Fine!" He got up from the chair, strode across the room, and ripped the drape down from the window.
I cowered away from the sun-glare, turning my back to the window.
"Come over here!" he shouted. When I didn't move, he snarled, "Get up and come over here, or I swear I'll shoot!"
And he would have, it was plain in his voice. I got to my feet, hesitant, and walked trembling to the window, squinting against the glare.
"Look out there," he ordered. "Look!"
I looked.
IV