Zero Hour

Count down for blast off X-5, 4, 3, minus 1, fire. From the far horizons of the unknown come transcribed tales of new dimensions in time and space. These are stories of the future.

Adventures in which you'll live in a million could be years on a thousand maybe worlds. The National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Street and Smith, publishers of astounding science fiction presents Heck, heck, heck, heck, heck, heck, minus, minus, minus, minus, minus, minus, one, one, one.

Tonight's story, Zero Hour by Ray Bradbury. It was a perfect summer day in the year 1985. Sunlight illumined the suburbs, and the town droweled on the tide of warm, sunlit air.

On the lawns, the children played. And in the homes, busy mothers prepared for the evening arrival of their home. But Heaven's made, what's all excitement? We're playing a game, Mommy, the most exciting game ever.

What are you doing in that cabinet? I need some tools from Daddy's kit. Your father may not mind. I'll take good care of them, Mom, I promise. Very well, dear. Don't lose anything. Or what's the name of the game, Ming?

Invasion. Invasion. What will they think of next? And this, and this, and this. Put that over there and bring that over here. No, you nanny. Now, get back while I fix this. They want it this way.

See? Sure. Just let me fix this. We'd better talk to Drill and get some more instructions, Art. Where is Drill? Drill. Hey, Drill. Drill. He's in the rose bush, I think. I'll talk to him myself and you write it down on the pad.

Okay. Drill. Drill. Okay. Drill wants you to write down triangle. What's a triangle? Never mind. Drill will tell us when he wants us to know. It helps the invasion. Well, how do you spell it?