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guards. Myra thought it was money well spent. After all, only the wealthiest members of society could dream of living here.
    Myra felt vulnerable leaving these walls. Her driver made sure she stayed out of undesirable neighborhoods. He drove her only to the nicest shopping locations and restaurants in and around Pleasanton. She avoided the Dome, convinced that the structure would collapse one day, and she had no interest being inside when it did. Still, she’d grown accustomed to not worrying about anything while at home, and it was difficult to give up that sense of peace and venture out into society, exposed to the depravity of the mass of humanity. Tonight, after the day of shopping and dining, the driver would ensure that she returned home to the security found only within those massive walls, before he returned to his own home and family for the evening. He would get her inside, where a half-dozen covered golf carts were available for usage by residents. She’d drive herself home tonight; usually, she had one of the two guards on duty assist her. Her shopping haul for the day was far smaller than usual.
    Though it was barely early evening on the clock, the calendar dictated the early loss of daylight on this early winter day. Frank, the driver, pulled up to the De Gray Estates and off to the side of the entry driveway, near the Guard Tower. He stepped out and opened her door. Myra exited with her usual grace, holding the lone bag of purchases in her hand. Frank made as if to take her bag or arm to assist her across the driveway to the Guard Station for her brief security check-in. But she shooed him away. “Wait there, Frank, until the guard sees me inside.” Frank sighed. He wished the old woman would let him drop her off closer to the scanner, but she insisted he keep the main driveway area clear in the event someone else wanted in or out. “Manners, Frank,” she’d snapped at him more than once.
    So Frank watched the old woman shuffle over to the outer man-trap door and enter the enclosed space, crouching slightly for the retinal scanner. After the outer door closed behind her, the light turned green, indicating that there was a match, and Myra tried to open interior door. It didn’t move. She shook the door, but no luck. “Confound it!” she snapped. “Guard, please open the door for me!” Of course , Frank thought. The guard has to buzz them in after the retinal scan is a success . However, there was a problem.
    “Mrs. VanderPoole? I don’t see a guard inside the Station. Perhaps he’s escorting a resident home?”
    “An extended visit to the lavatory is more likely the case,” Myra VanderPoole snorted, her tone biting as usual. She frowned. “And it appears that someone has left ice chunks all over the driveway. It’s a wonder I didn’t fall and kill myself. The neighbors will hear of this. Confound it, where is that guard?”
    The old woman shuffled out of the man-trap and back toward the Guard Station window, where residents and guests could see and speak to the on-duty guard. She peered in the window as she approached, and then frowned. “Is the man actually sleeping on the job?” she said, her tone sharp. Then she looked in the window more closely.
    “ Blood !” she screamed, moving as quickly as her old legs could carry her. “Oh, dear God, there’s so much blood, oh dear God, Frank, call the police, there’s so much blood!” And she fainted, falling to the ground near the ice shards.
    Frank, not sure what else to do, dug out his phone and called 911, telling them that Mrs. VanderPoole had suffered a fall on ice at the entrance to De Gray Estates and would need an ambulance. He let the dispatcher know that one of the guards normally on duty was not at his station. Frank hung up, called his wife to tell her he’d be late, and went to pick Mrs. VanderPoole up from the ground, wondering where the ice had come from.
    They hadn’t had snow or ice on the ground in a