This is a modern-English version of Zero Hour, originally written by Bradbury, Ray. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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ZERO HOUR

By RAY BRADBURY

PLANET STORIES
proudly presents one of the best science-fiction stories
we have ever seen. Perhaps you will vote it the best!

PLANET STORIES
proudly presents one of the best science fiction stories
we have ever seen. Maybe you'll vote it the best!

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Fall 1947.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Oh, it was to be so jolly! What a game! Such excitement they hadn't known in years. The children catapulted this way and that across the green lawns, shouting at each other, holding hands, flying in circles, climbing trees, laughing.... Overhead, the rockets flew and beetle-cars whispered by on the streets, but the children played on. Such fun, such tremulous joy, such tumbling and hearty screaming.

Oh, it was going to be so much fun! What a game! They hadn't felt this excited in years. The kids dashed around the green lawns, shouting to each other, holding hands, swirling in circles, climbing trees, and laughing.... Above them, rockets soared and toy cars zipped by on the streets, but the kids kept playing. So much fun, such pure joy, such carefree screaming.

Mink ran into the house, all dirt and sweat. For her seven years she was loud and strong and definite. Her mother, Mrs. Morris, hardly saw her as she yanked out drawers and rattled pans and tools into a large sack.

Mink burst into the house, covered in dirt and sweat. At just seven years old, she was loud, strong, and assertive. Her mother, Mrs. Morris, barely noticed her as she pulled out drawers and tossed pans and tools into a large bag.

"Heavens, Mink, what's going on?"

"Oh my gosh, Mink, what's happening?"

"The most exciting game ever!" gasped Mink, pink-faced.

"The most exciting game ever!" Mink exclaimed, flushed with excitement.

"Stop and get your breath," said the mother.

"Take a moment to catch your breath," said the mother.

"No, I'm all right," gasped Mink. "Okay I take these things, Mom?"

"No, I'm fine," gasped Mink. "Okay, should I take these, Mom?"

"But don't dent them," said Mrs. Morris.

"But don't damage them," said Mrs. Morris.

"Thank you, thank you!" cried Mink and boom! she was gone, like a rocket.

"Thank you, thank you!" shouted Mink and whoosh! she was gone, like a rocket.

Mrs. Morris surveyed the fleeing tot. "What's the name of the game?"

Mrs. Morris watched the running child. "What's the name of the game?"

"Invasion!" said Mink. The door slammed.

"Invasion!" Mink shouted. The door slammed shut.

In every yard on the street children brought out knives and forks and pokers and old stove pipes and can-openers.

In every yard on the street, kids brought out knives, forks, pokers, old stove pipes, and can openers.

It was an interesting fact that this fury and bustle occurred only among the younger children. The older ones, those ten years and more disdained the affair and marched scornfully off on hikes or played a more dignified version of hide-and-seek on their own.

It was interesting to note that all this chaos and excitement happened only among the younger kids. The older ones, those ten and older, ignored the whole situation and walked away disdainfully to go hiking or played a more grown-up version of hide-and-seek by themselves.

Meanwhile, parents came and went in chromium beetles. Repair men came to repair the vacuum elevators in houses, to fix fluttering television sets or hammer upon stubborn food-delivery tubes. The adult civilization passed and repassed the busy youngsters, jealous of the fierce energy of the wild tots, tolerantly amused at their flourishings, longing to join in themselves.

Meanwhile, parents came and went in shiny cars. Repair guys arrived to fix the vacuum elevators in homes, to work on glitchy TV sets or to bang on stuck food-delivery tubes. The grown-up world moved back and forth past the energetic kids, envious of the wild energy of the little ones, mildly entertained by their antics, wishing they could join in.

"This and this and this," said Mink, instructing the others with their assorted spoons and wrenches. "Do that, and bring that over here. No! Here, ninnie! Right. Now, get back while I fix this—" Tongue in teeth, face wrinkled in thought. "Like that. See?"

"This and this and this," said Mink, directing the others with their various spoons and wrenches. "Do that, and bring that over here. No! Here, you fool! Right. Now, step back while I fix this—" Tongue pressed against teeth, face scrunched in concentration. "Like that. Got it?"

"Yayyyy!" shouted the kids.

"Yay!" shouted the kids.

Twelve-year-old Joseph Connors ran up.

12-year-old Joseph Connors ran up.

"Go away," said Mink straight at him.

"Go away," Mink said directly to him.

"I wanna play," said Joseph.

"I want to play," said Joseph.

"Can't!" said Mink.

"Why not?"

"You'd just make fun of us."

"You'd just laugh at us."

"Honest, I wouldn't."

"Honestly, I wouldn't."

"No. We know you. Go away or we'll kick you."

"No. We know you. Leave or we'll kick you out."

Another twelve-year-old boy whirred by on little motor-skates. "Aye, Joe! Come on! Let them sissies play!"

Another twelve-year-old boy zipped by on his little motor-skates. "Hey, Joe! Come on! Let those wimps play!"

Joseph showed reluctance and a certain wistfulness. "I want to play," he said.

Joseph seemed hesitant and a bit nostalgic. "I want to play," he said.

"You're old," said Mink, firmly.

"You're old," Mink said, firmly.

"Not that old," said Joe sensibly.

"Not that old," said Joe sensibly.

"You'd only laugh and spoil the Invasion."

"You'd just laugh and ruin the Invasion."

The boy on the motor-skates made a rude lip noise. "Come on, Joe! Them and their fairies! Nuts!"

The boy on the motor-skates made a sarcastic noise with his lips. "Come on, Joe! Those guys and their fairies! Crazy!"

Joseph walked off slowly. He kept looking back, all down the block.

Joseph walked away slowly. He kept glancing back down the block.

Mink was already busy again. She made a kind of apparatus with her gathered equipment. She had appointed another little girl with a pad and pencil to take down notes in painful slow scribbles. Their voices rose and fell in the warm sunlight.

Mink was already busy again. She created some kind of device with her gathered tools. She had another little girl with a pad and pencil taking notes in painfully slow handwriting. Their voices rose and fell in the warm sunlight.

All around them the city hummed. The streets were lined with good green and peaceful trees. Only the wind made a conflict across the city, across the country, across the continent. In a thousand other cities there were trees and children and avenues, business men in their quiet offices taping their voices, or watching televisors. Rockets hovered like darning needles in the blue sky. There was the universal, quiet conceit and easiness of men accustomed to peace, quite certain there would never be trouble again. Arm in arm, men all over earth were a united front. The perfect weapons were held in equal trust by all nations. A situation of incredibly beautiful balance had been brought about. There were no traitors among men, no unhappy ones, no disgruntled ones; therefore the world was based upon a stable ground. Sunlight illumined half the world and the trees drowsed in a tide of warm air.

All around them, the city buzzed with life. The streets were lined with lush, peaceful trees. Only the wind brought any kind of disturbance across the city, the country, and the continent. In a thousand other cities, there were trees and children and streets, businesspeople in their quiet offices speaking softly or watching TVs. Rockets floated like sewing needles in the blue sky. There was a universal, calm confidence among people used to peace, fully believing that there would never be trouble again. Arm in arm, people all over the world presented a united front. The perfect weapons were trusted equally by all nations. An incredibly beautiful balance had been achieved. There were no traitors among people, no unhappy ones, no discontented ones; therefore, the world rested on solid ground. Sunlight lit up half the world, and the trees relaxed in a wave of warm air.

Mink's mother, from her upstairs window, gazed down.

Mink's mom looked down from her upstairs window.

The children.

The kids.

She looked upon them and shook her head. Well, they'd eat well, sleep well, and be in school on Monday. Bless their vigorous little bodies. She listened.

She looked at them and shook her head. Well, they’d eat well, sleep well, and be in school on Monday. Bless their energetic little bodies. She listened.

Mink talked earnestly to someone near the rose-bush—though there was no one there.

Mink spoke seriously to someone by the rosebush—though there was no one there.

These odd children. And the little girl, what was her name? Anna? Anna took notes on a pad. First, Mink asked the rose-bush a question, then called the answer to Anna.

These strange kids. And the little girl, what was her name? Anna? Anna took notes on a notepad. First, Mink asked the rosebush a question, then shouted the answer to Anna.

"Triangle," said Mink.

"Triangle," Mink said.

"What's a tri," said Anna with difficulty, "angle?"

"What's a tri," Anna said with difficulty, "angle?"

"Never mind," said Mink.

"Forget it," said Mink.

"How you spell it?" asked Anna.

"How do you spell it?" asked Anna.

"T-R-I—" spelled Mink, slowly, then snapped, "Oh, spell it yourself!" She went on to other words. "Beam," she said.

"T-R-I—" spelled Mink, slowly, then snapped, "Oh, just spell it yourself!" She moved on to other words. "Beam," she said.

"I haven't got tri," said Anna, "angle down yet!"

"I haven't got tri," Anna said, "angled down yet!"

"Well, hurry, hurry!" cried Mink.

"Come on, let’s go!" cried Mink.

Mink's mother leaned out the upstairs window. "A-N-G-L-E," she spelled down at Anna.

Mink's mom leaned out of the upstairs window. "A-N-G-L-E," she spelled down to Anna.

"Oh, thanks, Mrs. Morris," said Anna.

"Oh, thanks, Mrs. Morris," Anna said.

"Certainly," said Mink's mother and withdrew, laughing, to dust the hall with an electro-duster-magnet.

"Sure thing," said Mink's mom, laughing as she stepped away to use an electro-duster-magnet on the hallway.

The voices wavered on the shimmery air. "Beam," said Anna. Fading.

The voices fluctuated in the shimmering air. "Beam," Anna said. Fading.

"Four-nine-seven-A-and-B-and-X," said Mink, far away, seriously. "And a fork and a string and a—hex-hex-agony ... hexagonal!"

"497A and B and X," Mink said seriously, from a distance. "And a fork and a string and a—hex-hex-agony ... hexagonal!"

At lunch, Mink gulped milk at one toss and was at the door. Her mother slapped the table.

At lunch, Mink chugged her milk in one go and was at the door. Her mom smacked the table.

"You sit right back down," commanded Mrs. Morris. "Hot soup in a minute." She poked a red button on the kitchen butler and ten seconds later something landed with a bump in the rubber receiver. Mrs. Morris opened it, took out a can with a pair of aluminum holders, unsealed it with a flick and poured hot soup into a bowl.

"You sit right back down," Mrs. Morris ordered. "Hot soup will be ready in a minute." She pressed a red button on the kitchen butler, and ten seconds later, something landed with a thud in the rubber receiver. Mrs. Morris opened it, took out a can with a pair of metal holders, popped it open with a quick motion, and poured hot soup into a bowl.

During all this, Mink fidgeted. "Hurry, Mom! This is a matter of life and death! Aw—!"

During all this, Mink was restless. "Hurry, Mom! This is a matter of life and death! Aw—!"

"I was the same way at your age. Always life and death. I know."

"I was the same at your age. Everything felt like life or death. I get it."

Mink banged away at the soup.

Mink hit the soup hard.

"Slow down," said Mom.

"Slow down," Mom said.

"Can't," said Mink. "Drill's waiting for me."

"Can’t," said Mink. "The drill is waiting for me."

"Who's Drill? What a peculiar name," said Mom.

"Who's Drill? What a weird name," said Mom.

"You don't know him," said Mink.

"You don't know him," Mink said.

"A new boy in the neighborhood?" asked Mom.

"A new kid in the neighborhood?" Mom asked.

"He's new all right," said Mink. She started on her second bowl.

"He's definitely new," said Mink. She began on her second bowl.

"Which one is Drill?" asked Mom.

"Which one is Drill?" Mom asked.

"He's around," said Mink, evasively. "You'll make fun. Everybody pokes fun. Gee, darn."

"He's around," said Mink, hesitantly. "You’ll make fun of it. Everyone makes jokes. Ugh, seriously."

"Is Drill shy?"

"Is Drill introverted?"

"Yes. No. In a way. Gosh, Mom, I got to run if we want to have the Invasion!"

"Yes. No. Kind of. Wow, Mom, I need to go if we want to have the Invasion!"

"Who's invading what?"

"Who’s invading whom?"

"Martians invading Earth—well, not exactly Martians. They're—I don't know. From up." She pointed with her spoon.

"Martians invading Earth—well, not really Martians. They're—I don't know. From up there." She pointed with her spoon.

"And inside," said Mom, touching Mink's feverish brow.

"And inside," Mom said, touching Mink's hot forehead.

Mink rebelled. "You're laughing! You'll kill Drill and everybody."

Mink protested. "You're laughing! You're going to kill Drill and everyone."

"I didn't mean to," said Mom. "Drill's a Martian?"

"I didn't mean to," Mom said. "Is Drill a Martian?"

"No. He's—well—maybe from Jupiter or Saturn or Venus. Anyway, he's had a hard time."

"No. He's—well—maybe from Jupiter or Saturn or Venus. Anyway, he's had a tough time."

"I imagine." Mrs. Morris hid her mouth behind her hand.

"I can picture it." Mrs. Morris covered her mouth with her hand.

"They couldn't figure a way to attack earth."

"They couldn't find a way to attack Earth."

"We're impregnable," said Mom, in mock-seriousness.

"We're unbeatable," Mom said, pretending to be serious.

"That's the word Drill used! Impreg—That was the word, Mom."

"My, my. Drill's a brilliant little boy. Two-bit words."

"My, my. Drill's a smart little kid. Simple words."

"They couldn't figure a way to attack, Mom. Drill says—he says in order to make a good fight you got to have a new way of surprising people. That way you win. And he says also you got to have help from your enemy."

"They couldn't find a way to attack, Mom. Drill says—he says to win a good fight, you need a new way to catch people off guard. That's how you come out on top. And he also says you need help from your enemy."

"A fifth column," said Mom.

"A fifth column," Mom said.

"Yeah. That's what Drill said. And they couldn't figure a way to surprise Earth or get help."

"Yeah. That's what Drill said. And they couldn't think of a way to catch Earth off guard or get assistance."

"No wonder. We're pretty darn strong," laughed Mom, cleaning up. Mink sat there, staring at the table, seeing what she was talking about.

"No surprise there. We're pretty strong," laughed Mom, tidying up. Mink sat there, staring at the table, understanding what she meant.

"Until, one day," whispered Mink, melodramatically, "they thought of children!"

"Then, one day," Mink whispered dramatically, "they thought of kids!"

"Well!" said Mrs. Morris brightly.

"Well!" said Mrs. Morris cheerfully.

"And they thought of how grown-ups are so busy they never look under rose-bushes or on lawns!"

"And they thought about how adults are so busy that they never check under rose bushes or on lawns!"

"Only for snails and fungus."

"Just for snails and fungus."

"And then there's something about dim-dims."

"Dim-dims?"

"Dimens-shuns."

"Dimensions."

"Dimensions?"

"Measurements?"

"Four of 'em! And there's something about kids under nine and imagination. It's real funny to hear Drill talk."

"Four of them! And there's something about kids under nine and their imagination. It's really funny to hear Drill talk."

Mrs. Morris was tired. "Well, it must be funny. You're keeping Drill waiting now. It's getting late in the day and, if you want to have your Invasion before your supper bath, you'd better jump."

Mrs. Morris was tired. "Well, it must be hilarious. You're making Drill wait now. It's getting late, and if you want to have your Invasion before your supper bath, you'd better hurry up."

"Do I have to take a bath?" growled Mink.

"Do I really have to take a bath?" grumbled Mink.

"You do. Why is it children hate water? No matter what age you live in children hate water behind the ears!"

"You do. Why do kids hate water? No matter what time period you're in, kids always hate having water behind their ears!"

"Drill says I won't have to take baths," said Mink.

"Drill says I don't have to take baths," Mink said.

"Oh, he does, does he?"

"Oh, he really does?"

"He told all the kids that. No more baths. And we can stay up till ten o'clock and go to two televisor shows on Saturday 'stead of one!"

"He told all the kids that. No more baths. And we can stay up until ten o'clock and go to two TV shows on Saturday instead of one!"

"Well, Mr. Drill better mind his p's and q's. I'll call up his mother and—"

"Well, Mr. Drill better watch his manners. I'll call his mom and—"

Mink went to the door. "We're having trouble with guys like Pete Britz and Dale Jerrick. They're growing up. They make fun. They're worse than parents. They just won't believe in Drill. They're so snooty, cause they're growing up. You'd think they'd know better. They were little only a coupla years ago. I hate them worst. We'll kill them first."

Mink went to the door. "We're having issues with guys like Pete Britz and Dale Jerrick. They're maturing. They make jokes. They're worse than parents. They just won’t believe in Drill. They’re so stuck up because they’re growing up. You'd think they’d know better. They were kids just a couple of years ago. I hate them the most. We'll take care of them first.”

"Your father and I, last?"

"Your dad and I, last?"

"Drill says you're dangerous. Know why? Cause you don't believe in Martians! They're going to let us run the world. Well, not just us, but the kids over in the next block, too. I might be queen." She opened the door. "Mom?"

"Drill says you're a threat. Want to know why? Because you don't believe in Martians! They're going to let us take over the world. Not just us, but the kids from the next block, too. I could be queen." She opened the door. "Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Yup?"

"What's—lodge ... ick?"

"What's—lodge ... gross?"

"Logic? Why, dear, logic is knowing what things are true and not true."

"Logic? Well, darling, logic is about understanding what's true and what's not."

"He mentioned that," said Mink. "And what's im—pres—sion—able?" It took her a minute to say it.

"Why, it means—" Her mother looked at the floor, laughing gently. "It means—to be a child, dear."

"Why, it means—" Her mom gazed at the floor, chuckling softly. "It means—to be a kid, dear."

"Thanks for lunch!" Mink ran out, then stuck her head back in. "Mom, I'll be sure you won't be hurt, much, really!"

"Thanks for lunch!" Mink rushed out, then poked her head back in. "Mom, I promise you won't get hurt, not too much, really!"

"Well, thanks," said Mom.

"Thanks," said Mom.

Slam went the door.

Slamming went the door.

At four o'clock the audio-visor buzzed. Mrs. Morris flipped the tab. "Hello, Helen!" she said, in welcome.

At four o'clock, the audio-visor buzzed. Mrs. Morris flipped the tab. "Hi, Helen!" she said, in greeting.

"Hello, Mary. How are things in New York?"

"Hey, Mary. How’s everything going in New York?"

"Fine, how are things in Scranton? You look tired."

"Hey, how's everything in Scranton? You look exhausted."

"So do you. The children. Underfoot," said Helen.

"So do you. The kids. Underfoot," Helen said.

Mrs. Morris sighed, "My Mink, too. The super Invasion."

Helen laughed. "Are your kids playing that game, too?"

"Lord, yes. Tomorrow it'll be geometrical jacks and motorized hopscotch. Were we this bad when we were kids in '48?"

"Sure thing. Tomorrow it'll be geometric jacks and electric hopscotch. Were we this foolish when we were kids in '48?"

"Worse. Japs and Nazis. Don't know how my parents put up with me. Tomboy."

"Worse. Japanese and Nazis. I don't know how my parents dealt with me. Tomboy."

"Parents learn to shut their ears."

"Parents learn to tune out."

A silence.

A moment of silence.

"What's wrong, Mary?" asked Helen.

Mrs. Morris' eyes were half-closed; her tongue slid slowly, thoughtfully over her lower lip. "Eh," She jerked. "Oh, nothing. Just thought about that. Shutting ears and such. Never mind. Where were we?"

Mrs. Morris' eyes were half-closed; her tongue slid slowly, thoughtfully over her lower lip. "Eh," she jerked. "Oh, nothing. Just thought about that. Shutting ears and all. Never mind. Where were we?"

"My boy Tim's got a crush on some guy named—Drill, I think it was."

"My son Tim has a crush on some guy named—Drill, I believe."

"Must be a new password. Mink likes him, too."

"Looks like a new password is needed. Mink likes him as well."

"Didn't know it got as far as New York. Word of mouth, I imagine. Looks like a scrap drive. I talked to Josephine and she said her kids—that's in Boston—are wild on this new game. It's sweeping the country."

"Didn't know it made it all the way to New York. I guess it's all word of mouth. It looks like a scrap drive. I spoke to Josephine, and she said her kids—that's in Boston—are really into this new game. It's taking the country by storm."

At this moment, Mink trotted into the kitchen to gulp a glass of water. Mrs. Morris turned. "How're things going?"

At that moment, Mink walked into the kitchen to down a glass of water. Mrs. Morris turned. "How's it going?"

"Almost finished," said Mink.

"Almost done," said Mink.

"Swell," said Mrs. Morris. "What's that?"

"Swell," said Mrs. Morris. "What's that?"

"A yo-yo," said Mink. "Watch."

"A yo-yo," said Mink. "Check it out."

She flung the yo-yo down its string. Reaching the end it—

She threw the yo-yo down its string. When it reached the end—

It vanished.

It disappeared.

"See?" said Mink. "Ope!" Dibbling her finger she made the yo-yo reappear and zip up the string.

"See?" said Mink. "Ope!" Quickly moving her finger, she made the yo-yo reappear and zip up the string.

"Do that again," said her mother.

"Do that again," her mother said.

"Can't. Zero hour's five o'clock! 'Bye."

"Can't. Zero hour is at five o'clock! Bye."

Mink exited, zipping her yo-yo.

Mink left, playing with her yo-yo.

On the audio-visor, Helen laughed. "Tim brought one of those yo-yo's in this morning, but when I got curious he said he wouldn't show it to me, and when I tried to work it, finally, it wouldn't work."

On the audio-visor, Helen laughed. "Tim brought one of those yo-yos in this morning, but when I got curious he said he wouldn't show it to me, and when I finally tried to use it, it didn't work."

"You're not impressionable," said Mrs. Morris.

"You're not easily influenced," said Mrs. Morris.

"What?"

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind. Something I thought of. Can I help you, Helen?"

"Never mind. Just something I was thinking about. Can I help you, Helen?"

"I wanted to get that black-and-white cake recipe—"

The hour drowsed by. The day waned. The sun lowered in the peaceful blue sky. Shadows lengthened on the green lawns. The laughter and excitement continued. One little girl ran away, crying.

The hour drifted by. The day faded. The sun sank in the calm blue sky. Shadows grew longer on the green lawns. The laughter and excitement continued. One little girl ran off, crying.

Mrs. Morris came out the front door.

Mrs. Morris stepped out of the front door.

"Mink, was that Peggy Ann crying?"

Mink was bent over in the yard, near the rose-bush. "Yeah. She's a scarebaby. We won't let her play, now. She's getting too old to play. I guess she grew up all of a sudden."

Mink was bent over in the yard, near the rose bush. "Yeah. She's a scaredy-cat. We won't let her play anymore. She's getting too old for that. I guess she just grew up really fast."

"Is that why she cried? Nonsense. Give me a civil answer, young lady, or inside you come!"

"Is that why she cried? That's ridiculous. Give me a proper answer, young lady, or you're coming inside!"

Mink whirled in consternation, mixed with irritation. "I can't quit now. It's almost time. I'll be good. I'm sorry."

Mink spun around, feeling both anxious and annoyed. "I can't stop now. It's almost time. I promise I'll behave. I'm sorry."

"Did you hit Peggy Ann?"

"No, honest. You ask her. It was something—well, she's just a scaredy-pants."

"No, seriously. You should ask her. It was something—well, she's just really scared."

The ring of children drew in around Mink where she scowled at her work with spoons and a kind of square shaped arrangement of hammers and pipes. "There and there," murmured Mink.

The group of kids gathered around Mink as she glared at her work with spoons and a sort of square setup of hammers and pipes. "There and there," Mink whispered.

"What's wrong?" said Mrs. Morris.

"What's wrong?" asked Mrs. Morris.

"Drill's stuck. Half way. If we could only get him all the way through, it'll be easier. Then all the others could come through after him."

"Drill's stuck. Halfway. If we could just get him all the way through, it would be easier. Then everyone else could come through after him."

"Can I help?"

"Need any help?"

"No'm, thanks. I'll fix it."

"No, thanks. I'll fix it."

"All right. I'll call you for your bath in half an hour. I'm tired of watching you."

"Okay. I'll call you for your bath in half an hour. I'm tired of watching you."

She went in and sat in the electric-relaxing chair, sipping a little beer from a half-empty glass. The chair massaged her back. Children, children. Children and love and hate, side by side. Sometimes children loved you, hated you, all in half a second. Strange children, did they ever forget or forgive the whippings and the harsh, strict words of command? She wondered. How can you ever forget or forgive those over and above you, those tall and silly dictators?

She walked in and sat down in the massage chair, taking a sip of beer from a half-empty glass. The chair worked its magic on her back. Kids, kids. Kids and love and hate, existing together. Sometimes kids loved you, then hated you, all in the blink of an eye. Weird kids, did they ever really forget or forgive the spankings and the stern, strict commands? She wondered. How can you ever forget or forgive those in power over you, those tall and silly tyrants?

Time passed. A curious, waiting silence came upon the street, deepening.

Time passed. A curious, expectant silence settled over the street, growing heavier.

Five o'clock. A clock sang softly somewhere in the house, in a quiet, musical voice, "Five o'clock ... five o'clock. Time's a wasting. Five o'clock," and purred away into silence.

Five o'clock. A clock chimed softly somewhere in the house, in a gentle, melodic voice, "Five o'clock ... five o'clock. Time's running out. Five o'clock," and faded into silence.

Zero hour.

Showtime.

Mrs. Morris chuckled in her throat. Zero hour.

Mrs. Morris chuckled to herself. It was go time.

A beetle-car hummed into the driveway. Mr. Morris. Mrs. Morris smiled. Mr. Morris got out of the beetle, locked it and called hello to Mink at her work. Mink ignored him. He laughed and stood for a moment watching the children in their business. Then he walked up the front steps.

A Beetle pulled into the driveway. Mr. Morris. Mrs. Morris smiled. Mr. Morris got out of the Beetle, locked it, and called hello to Mink at her job. Mink ignored him. He chuckled and stood for a moment watching the kids with what they were doing. Then he walked up the front steps.

"Hello, darling."

"Hey, love."

"Hello, Henry."

"Hey, Henry."

She strained forward on the edge of the chair, listening. The children were silent. Too silent.

She leaned forward on the edge of the chair, listening. The kids were quiet. Too quiet.

He emptied his pipe, refilled it. "Swell day. Makes you glad to be alive."

He emptied his pipe and refilled it. "Great day. Makes you happy to be alive."

Buzz.

"What's that?" asked Henry.

"What's that?" Henry asked.

"I don't know." She got up, suddenly, her eyes widening. She was going to say something. She stopped it. Ridiculous. Her nerves jumped. "Those children haven't anything dangerous out there, have they?" she said.

"I don't know." She suddenly got up, her eyes widening. She was about to say something. She stopped herself. Ridiculous. Her nerves were on edge. "Those kids don't have anything dangerous out there, do they?" she asked.

"Nothing but pipes and hammers. Why?"

"Just pipes and hammers? Why?"

"Nothing electrical?"

"Nothing electronic?"

"Heck, no," said Henry. "I looked."

"Heck, no," Henry said. "I checked."

She walked to the kitchen. The buzzing continued. "Just the same you'd better go tell them to quit. It's after five. Tell them—" Her eyes widened and narrowed. "Tell them to put off their Invasion until tomorrow." She laughed, nervously.

She walked to the kitchen. The buzzing kept going. "You really should go tell them to stop. It's past five. Tell them—" Her eyes widened and then narrowed. "Tell them to postpone their invasion until tomorrow." She laughed, nervously.

The buzzing grew louder.

The buzzing got louder.

"What are they up to? I'd better go look, all right."

"What are they doing? I should go check it out."

The explosion!

The blast!

The house shook with dull sound. There were other explosions in other yards on other streets.

The house rattled with a muffled sound. Other blasts could be heard in different yards on various streets.

Involuntarily, Mrs. Morris screamed. "Up this way!" she cried, senselessly, knowing no sense, no reason. Perhaps she saw something from the corners of her eyes, perhaps she smelled a new odor or heard a new noise. There was no time to argue with Henry to convince him. Let him think her insane. Yes, insane! Shrieking, she ran upstairs. He ran after her to see what she was up to. "In the attic!" she screamed. "That's where it is!" It was only a poor excuse to get him in the attic in time—oh God, in time!

Mrs. Morris screamed without meaning to. "This way!" she shouted, without knowing why. Maybe she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye, or caught a whiff of a strange smell, or heard an unusual sound. There wasn't time to argue with Henry to persuade him. Let him think she's lost it. Yeah, lost it! Shouting, she raced upstairs. He followed her to see what was going on. "In the attic!" she yelled. "That's where it is!" It was just a flimsy excuse to get him up there quickly—oh God, quickly!

Another explosion outside. The children screamed with delight, as if at a great fireworks display.

Another explosion outside. The kids screamed with excitement, as if they were watching an amazing fireworks show.

"It's not in the attic!" cried Henry. "It's outside!"

"It's not in the attic!" shouted Henry. "It's outside!"

"No, no!" Wheezing, gasping, she fumbled at the attic door. "I'll show you. Hurry! I'll show you!"

"No, no!" She wheezed and gasped as she struggled with the attic door. "I’ll show you. Hurry! I’ll show you!"

They tumbled into the attic. She slammed the door, locked it, took the key, threw it into a far, cluttered corner.

They fell into the attic. She shut the door, locked it, took the key, and tossed it into a distant, messy corner.

She was babbling wild stuff now. It came out of her. All the subconscious suspicion and fear that had gathered secretly all afternoon and fermented like a wine in her. All the little revelations and knowledges and sense that had bothered her all day and which she had logically and carefully and sensibly rejected and censored. Now it exploded in her and shook her to bits.

She was now rambling about crazy things. It just poured out of her. All the hidden doubts and fears that had been building up secretly all afternoon, brewing inside her like wine. All the little insights and truths that had troubled her all day, which she had logically and carefully dismissed and kept in check. Now it burst out of her and left her shaken.

"There, there," she said, sobbing against the door. "We're safe until tonight. Maybe we can sneak out, maybe we can escape!"

"There, there," she said, crying against the door. "We're safe until tonight. Maybe we can sneak out, maybe we can get away!"

Henry blew up, too, but for another reason. "Are you crazy? Why'd you throw that key away! Damn it, honey!"

Henry lost his temper, but for a different reason. "Are you out of your mind? Why did you throw that key away! Damn it, babe!"

"Yes, yes, I'm crazy, if it helps, but stay here with me!"

"Yeah, I know I’m crazy, but please just stay here with me!"

"I don't know how in hell I can get out!"

"I don't know how in the world I can get out!"

"Quiet. They'll hear us. Oh, God, they'll find us soon enough—"

"Shh. They'll hear us. Oh man, they'll find us soon enough—"

Below them, Mink's voice. The husband stopped. There was a great universal humming and sizzling, a screaming and giggling. Downstairs, the audio-televisor buzzed and buzzed insistently, alarmingly, violently. Is that Helen calling? thought Mrs. Morris. And is she calling about what I think she's calling about?

Below them, Mink's voice. The husband stopped. There was a loud, universal hum and crackle, a mix of screams and laughter. Downstairs, the audio-televisor buzzed vigorously, alarmingly, violently. Is that Helen calling? thought Mrs. Morris. And is she calling about what I think she's calling about?

Footsteps came into the house. Heavy footsteps.

Footsteps entered the house. Loud footsteps.

"Who's coming in my house?" demanded Henry, angrily. "Who's tramping around down there?"

"Who’s in my house?" Henry shouted, irritated. "Who’s stomping around down there?"

Heavy feet. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty of them. Fifty persons crowding into the house. The humming. The giggling of the children. "This way!" cried Mink, below.

Heavy feet. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty of them. Fifty people crowding into the house. The humming. The giggling of the kids. "This way!" yelled Mink from downstairs.

"Who's downstairs?" roared Henry. "Who's there!"

"Who's downstairs?" Henry yelled. "Who's there!"

"Hush, oh, nonononono!" said his wife, weakly, holding him. "Please, be quiet. They might go away."

"Hush, no, no, no!" his wife said weakly, holding him. "Please, be quiet. They might leave."

"Mom?" called Mink, "Dad?" A pause. "Where are you?"

"Mom?" called Mink, "Dad?" There was a pause. "Where are you?"

Heavy footsteps, heavy, heavy, very HEAVY footsteps came up the stairs. Mink leading them.

Heavy footsteps, heavy, heavy, very HEAVY footsteps came up the stairs. Mink was leading them.

"Mom?" A hesitation. "Dad?" A waiting, a silence.

"Mom?" There was a pause. "Dad?" A wait, a silence.

Humming. Footsteps toward the attic. Mink's first.

Humming. Footsteps heading to the attic. Mink's first.

They trembled together in silence in the attic, Mr. and Mrs. Morris. For some reason the electric humming, the queer cold light suddenly visible under the door crack, the strange odor and the alien sound of eagerness in Mink's voice, finally got through to Henry Morris, too. He stood, shivering, in the dark silence, his wife beside him.

They shook quietly in the attic, Mr. and Mrs. Morris. For some reason, the buzzing from the electric source, the odd cold light suddenly appearing under the door crack, the strange smell, and the eager sound in Mink's voice finally registered with Henry Morris, too. He stood there shivering in the dark silence, his wife next to him.

"Mom! Dad!"

Footsteps. A little humming sound. The attic lock melted. The door opened. Mink peered inside, tall blue shadows behind her.

Footsteps. A faint humming sound. The attic lock melted. The door swung open. Mink looked inside, with tall blue shadows behind her.

"Peek-a-boo," said Mink.

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