took the intact ash tray from him. "I’m not jealous of Alice, and I haven’t been for twenty years. But Dell, do you realize Kathryn was the last child born in this city?"
The girl’s voice was harsh. "She wants me to marry some stupid, ugly boy. And I won’t do it! I love Bass."
Dell’s pale eyes were rebuking. "Amanda, how can you expect Kippie to do that?"
She stepped back. "Kippie?" she said harshly. "Dell, that girl standing there is Kathryn, our daughter—not Kippie."
"Don’t let such little things upset you, baby. I’ll go call Replacements, and we’ll all sit down together when Alice and Lester come." He turned.
She seized his arm. "I will not watch Lester," she said. "I will not sit and stare at that big, gray-haired ape and pretend I’m in love with him."
Dell frowned. "You don’t really think he looks like an ape, do you, baby? I was—well, thinking of changing my name to Lester."
Kathryn leaped to hug him. "Oh Daddy! It’ll be so wonderful. Lester, Lester, Lester! If we had an Alice and a Bass, we’d be almost like a real family."
She stared at them. "I’d hoped to put you in a favorable frame of mind for this, Kathryn," she said. "You’ll remember that three years ago the Watsons, next door, had Wall failure and couldn’t get service until morning. I invited them to watch our Wall."
Dell nodded. "Haven’t seen them since, now that I think of it."
"You haven’t. But tonight Mrs. Watson is lending me her son Gerald. He’s coming at seven."
"Mother!" Kathryn cried, releasing Dell. "How terrible! Gerald! What a stupid name. I love Bass, and you can’t take him away from me."
"That wasn’t very nice, was it, Amanda?"
"It’s done," she said. "He’s twenty-two, and I want you to talk to him, Kathryn."
Kathryn scowled.
"And I’ve arranged for you to go over to their house to watch Alice, if you must, Dell."
Dell forgot he was indignant. "Well, Kippie, maybe this one time you can do as your mother wants," he said. "Surely Bass won’t mind if you miss him this once. He’s an understanding sort of chap."
Kathryn thought for a moment, scowling. "All right, I’ll do it—if you’ll call me Kippie, Mother."
Amanda studied her. "All right—Kippie," she said finally.
*
After agreeing reluctantly not to call Replacements until Gerald had come and gone, Kippie wriggled into a Kippie-like position and poked her finger deep into her cheek again.
Gerald, who arrived promptly at seven, wore his light hair combed into a Bass-like curl low over his forehead. He speared Amanda with a penetrating stare, making her shiver as she led him to the Wall room.
Kippie sulked angrily on the Wall seat.
Amanda introduced them, and they looked at each other, their glances revealing no interest.
"You’re trying to comb your hair like Bass," Kippie accused.
Gerald grinned. "Sure thing, sweetie-bug."
"Then you should dye it. It’s the wrong color. Bass doesn’t have blond hair. And why is your name still Gerald? Don’t you ever want to be Bass?"
Gerald looked slapped. "I tried. Honest, I really did. But you know there’s a limit, and the man at the bureau said there were too many Basses already." His face brightened. "But my parents call me Bass all the time."
"Oh."
Gerald shuffled his feet. Gingerly he sat down.
"Uh, did you see them last night?" he asked.
"Of course. I always see them, except when my mother does something stupid."
Quickly Amanda excused herself and went to the Food Center. She leaned against the counter, trying to overhear their conversation.
They spoke in broken murmurs momentarily, then were silent.
Kippie cleared her throat irritably.
"Uh, nice weather," Gerald said loudly.
"I haven’t been out."
They were silent again. She tried to make her fingers stop picking at a spot on the counter surface.
Suddenly Kippie emerged hurriedly from the Wall room, looking put upon.
"Where are you going?" Amanda demanded.
"He can’t talk like Bass, even when he tries. And his hair is the wrong color, and he has blue eyes."
"But Kathryn—Kippie, those are external characteristics! You can’t judge a person by the color of his hair and his eyes. You must get acquainted with him."
"I won’t do it. I don’t love him. I love Bass!" She cocked her head, Kippie-like. "And besides, he loves the real Kippie. And I’ll never have dimples. I’m going to call Replacements."
Amanda seized her arm. "Call them, and I’ll break the new Wall too. I’ll break every Wall you bring into this house. Don’t you understand what’s happening?"
"Quit being stupid."
"I’ll break every Wall you have installed."
"And every time you do it, I’ll order a new one." She broke loose and ran to the communicator.
*
She had to do something. She wondered briefly, must I do something? It could only be the survival instinct driving her. Perhaps, she thought wryly, she was the only person who still possessed that particular instinct.
She could never break every Wall in the world, no matter how she tried.
She picked up the magazine Kippie had thrown down that morning. Running her finger over the cover, she poked it through Bass’s penetrating eye. She poked Kippie in the nose.
She flipped the magazine open and went through it, mutilating the pages. "There’s a hole in your head, Lester....
"One less eye for you, Alice....
"Poor little Kippie, I tore your chin. Right through the dimple. Will Bass love you now, Kippie?
"Goodby, Bass." She crumpled him into a ball and threw him at the sink.
On the next page was a print of a restaurant. She read the caption.
"For two hours each evening, while filmed sequences are shown to the home audience, the stars retire to Antola’s for sandwiches, drinks and shop talk."
She tried to stop her thoughts as they went to the sleeping alcove and the old gun in the top shelf of the
