entity.

"We'll say no more, of course. Perhaps even this incident has been
indiscreet. But it's in the form of a celebration. Never before has a
whole swarm gotten through. Only a single entity on rare occasions."

Pete leaned against the corridor wall and wiped his face with the sleeve
of his jacket. "We're the only ones who know," he said.

"Or ever will know." Lorry pushed back a lock of his curly hair. She
wanted to kiss him, but this didn't seem to be the place or the time.

"We can never tell anyone."

"We'd look foolish."

"We've got a horror on our hands and we can't pass it on."

"What are we going to do?" Lorry asked.

"I don't know. Let's recap a little. Got a cigarette?"

They went to the fire door and dragged long and deep on two from Lorry's
pack. "They'll be quiet from now on. No more talking--just baby
squalls."

"And thirty little assassins will go into thirty homes," Lorry said.
"All dressed in soft pink and blue, all filled with hatred. Waiting,
biding their time, growing more clever." She shuddered.

"The electric chair will get them all, eventually."

"But how many will they get in the meantime?"

Pete put his arms around her and drew her close and whispered into her
ear. "There's nothing we can do--nothing."

"We've got to do something." Lorry heard again the thin, brittle
laughter following her, taunting her.

"It was a bad dream. It didn't happen. We'll just have to sleep it off."

She put her cheek against his. The rising stubble of his beard scratched
her face. She was grateful for the rough touch of solid reality.

Pete said, "The shock will wear out of our minds. Time will pass. After
a while, we won't believe it ourselves."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"It's got to be that way."

"We've got to do something."

Pete lowered his arm wearily. "Yeah--we've got to do something. Where
there's nothing that can be done. What are we--miracle workers?"

"We've got to do something."

"Sure--finish out the watch and then get some sleep."

* * * * *

Lorry awoke with the lowering sun in her window. It was a blood red sun.
She picked up the phone by her bedside. "Room 307 Resident's extension."

Pete answered drowsily. Lorry said, "Tell me--did I dream, or did it
really happen."

"I was going to ask you the same thing. I guess it happened. What are
you doing?"

"Lying in bed."

"So am I. But two different beds. Things are done all wron