'No!' Johann said, 'I mean, you can't do that!'
Biber looked puzzled. 'What did you plan to do?'
'I had no idea,' said Johann; 'I was hoping, as Ilse said to me this morning, to merely continue as I always have. It may be difficult for quite a while, but I'm sure that after the furor dies down I'll be able to run my affairs as always.'
'I'm afraid there's little chance of that,' and there was a trace of pity in his voice. 'A few days of your walking around the city, carrying on your business as usual, and you will no doubt become a celebrity. The papers will be after you before you count to ten.'
Johann cringed inwardly, and took a nervous taste of coffee; and Biber noted with amazement how the coffee went into his friend's mouth and disappeared, while he could see straight through his friend's lips, face, head to the filing cabinets across the room.
'The only way out I can see for you,' Biber continued, 'is to either become a total recluse immediately, which is bound to drive you mad; or, to make the most of your celebrity. Shock the public into accepting you as you are and make them love you as something special; otherwise, when they discover you they may consider you a monster. I really don't see any other alternative.' He looked with concern at Johann, or rather through him.
Johann fought for control, since the basically reticent nature he possessed shrank in terror at the idea of exposing himself to public scrutiny. 'I'm a freak, then?' he said, through clenched teeth, fighting back tears. He vaguely wondered what his tears would look like: would they be droplets of salt or small crystal pellets?—when he had passed water that morning things had been normal enough.
'Johann,' Biber said softly, evident worry in his voice; 'you must try to be strong. Your friends will not desert you. Just stick by me a little longer.'
Johann looked up at his friend; he discovered that his tears, which were flowing readily now, were of salt water after all. 'I suppose I must put myself in your hands,' he said. 'You know I wouldn't be able to handle something of this sort myself.'
Biber squeezed Johann's shoulder, noting the rock hardness beneath the glass man's jacket. 'Good. I have made plans, and soon—'
Just then there came a discreet knock on the cubicle door. Biber bounced up excitedly. 'In fact,' he said, smiling down on Johann, 'I believe part of the solution to your problem has arrived. He went to the door and opened it a crack, peering out; when he saw who was there he opened the door just enough to allow the visitor to enter and then closed and locked it behind him.
The newcomer—a short, balding fellow with tired eyes who, as Biber introduced him, worked for a research company that, Johann thought wryly, might very well have drained him of most of his thoughts—peered at Johann intensely and then, to Johann's horror, began to poke at him with the end of a pencil. 'A robot?' he inquired of Biber, who quickly restrained him and explained that Johann was, indeed, a man and was, indeed, the amazing thing Biber had called him over to see.
'Remarkable,' said the man, who once again began poking at Johann with his pencil.
The sum effect of the man's examination of Johann was that it was ascertained that Johann was, indeed, made of glass. 'A particularly fine glass,' the scientist explained, 'comparable to the finest lead crystal. I remain at a loss, though, to explain the otherwise normality of all your bodily functions; as a matter of fact, your body is acting as if it were not made of glass at all; but it most certainly is.' The scientist clapped his hands gleefully. 'I haven't been so excited since my student days! There is really nothing else for me to tell you, unless you would be willing to hand yourself over to a group of experts.' He jotted a note on a piece of paper on Johann's desk, folded it and put it in his shirt pocket. 'I think that should be arranged immediately—only a true laboratory could uncover your little secrets, my friend.'
'No!' said Johann, who was visibly shaken. 'I.. .just could not go through with something like that. But thank you for offering your help.' Biber picked up the opportunity to usher the scientist out of the office, promising to get back to him. When they were alone he sought to calm Johann down.
'Don't worry, Johann Pinzer, we won't let you be handed over to those wolves. I just thought it would be best to make sure that your condition was a true one. I think it's time to call in my media friend and begin to make you famous.'
Johann recoiled in horror. 'Karl, I don't want that! I told you, I wish to remain anonymous. I just want to lead my life as I always have!'
'And I've told you, dear friend, that that is impossible. I think the time is now to make the most you possibly can out of this whole thing.' There was a wild spark in Biber's eyes.
Johann began to straighten the things on his desk compulsively. 'I'm leaving, Karl. Going away. Please, I don't need your help anymore.'
'But Johann, the press has already been alerted! You'll be famous by nightfall!'
A vision rose up before Johan of toy manufacturers, greeting card companies, cereal producers fighting for the use of his name and notoriety to sell their products. Talk show hosts battling for the right to ask him embarrassing questions. He knew, he knew deep down within his soul, that celebrity would kill him.
'I'm going away, Karl,' he said, and before his friend could reply he was through the cubicle door and on the back stairs leading from the building.
Johann began to slowly and carefully make his way home, and had nearly made it to his building when he noticed a passerby with a folded copy of the afternoon paper. It was creased so that the headline was exposed, and read: 'Man of Glass Seen Roaming City!'
'Already,' he thought, and covered his face immediately.
He could not get into his building; as he approached it he became aware of noises on the street in front of it. Peeking around a corner, he discovered that a crowd was forming; they were all staring up at his bedroom window on the third floor. Some held placards reading 'The Glass Man Is Here' or 'We Love the Glass Man.' And among them, in the center of the crush, he noticed Biber, who was standing with another man whose looks Johann instantly disliked. This was obviously Biber's media friend, and Johann could tell by looking at the two of them that some sort of scheme had already been formed for his entrapment.
Johann turned quickly, meaning to make his way to the back of the building, but as he rounded the corner into the alleyway he ran straight into another crowd which was waiting at that entrance. He pulled his hat down low and his collar up, and began to back off, but suddenly there was a shout and Johann looked up to see part of the throng running toward him. He turned and sprinted back into the street.
A cry immediately went up, and Johann glanced behind to see that Biber was charging after him, followed closely by the ad man and a good portion of the mob. 'Johann, wait!' Biber shouted after him.
He ran toward the underground railway, knowing that the crowd was gaining on him and that his only hope for escape lay in getting lost in a crowded, busy area. He thought fleetingly of Ilse; he hoped that she was unharmed and that she would not worry too greatly about him—but these thoughts were quickly pushed aside by the immediacy of the mob, which had swelled in number, picking up new membership as it surged along, and which was closing the gap on him. They were shouting slogans, 'Hooray for the Glass Man!' and such, though Johann could also detect the inaudible snarl of a pack of hunting dogs. Johann was quickly winded; he could feel his chest heave like a bellows, and wondered briefly if such overexertion would cause him to burst from within and crack into a million tiny fragments. But he continued to run.
He ran down onto the platform and reached a train just as the doors were closing; but as he sighed with relief, ready to handle the few passengers around him who were staring strangely, the doors reopened and the mob burst in. Johann ran from car to car—one man who grabbed at him as he ran past looked startlingly like Biber's scientist friend—Johann saw a predator's look in the man's eyes, the look of the experimenter glaring at his pinned and drugged rat—but Johann pushed the man aside and reached the first car as the train came to a halt in the next station and the doors flew open.
As Johann leaped from the train he looked back to see a solid horde pouring, like hot lava, from every car in the train and flowing towards him. The sight was both electrifying and frightening. Johann ran to the stairs, knocking aside a man and an old woman, and only as he reached the street did he realize what a horrid mistake he had made.
He had reached the center square of the city, only to find a huge assembly there, waiting for him. A 'Glass Man' rally had been arranged, and thousands of people were milling about, waiting for the festivities to begin. Johann gasped in horror when his eyes fell on a dais that had been erected with a huge throne in its center, made
