
Now the hidden odorophonics were beginning to blow a wind of odor at the two
people in the middle of the baked veldt. The hot straw smell of lion grass, the cool
green smell of the hidden water hole, the great rusty smell of animals, the smell of
dust like a red paprika in the hot air. And now the sounds: the thump of distant
antelope feet on grassy sod, the papery rustling of vultures. A shadow passed through
the sky. The shadow flickered on George Hadley's upturned, sweating face.
"Filthy creatures," he heard his wife say.
“The vultures?”
“You see, there are the lions, far over, that way. Now they're on their way to the
water hole. They've just been eating," said Lydia. "I don't know what."
"Some animal," George Hadley put his hand up to shield off the burning light
from his squinted eyes. "A zebra or a baby giraffe, maybe."
"Are you sure?" His wife sounded peculiarly tense.
"No, it's a little late to be sure," he said, amused. "Nothing over there I can see
but cleaned bone, and the vultures dropping for what's left."
"Did you hear that scream?" she asked.
“No."
"About a minute ago?"
"Sorry, no."
The lions were coming. And again George Hadley was filled with admiration for
the mechanical genius who had conceived this room. A miracle of efficiency selling for
an absurdly low price. Every home should have one. Oh, occasionally they frightened
you with their clinical accuracy, they startled you, gave you a twinge, but most of the
time what fun for everyone - not only for your own son and daughter, but for yourself
when you felt like a quick jaunt to a foreign land, a quick change of scenery. Well, here
it was!
And here were the lions now, fifteen feet away, so real, so feverishly and
startlingly real that you could feel the prickling fur on your hand, and your mouth was
stuffed with the dusty upholstery smell of their heated pelts
, and the yellow of
them was in your eyes like the yellow of an exquisite French tapestry, the yellows of
lions and summer grass, and the sound of the matted lion lungs exhaling, and the
smell of meat from the panting, dripping mouths.
The lions stood looking at George and Lydia Hadley with terrible green-yellow
eyes.
"Watch out!" screamed Lydia.
The lions were running at them.
Pelts – the untanned skin of an animal.