 What is ironic about the Movement's refusal to attempt to escape the Dome?
A FALL OF GLASS By STANLEY R. LEE Illustrated by DILLON [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Magazine October 1960. The weatherman was always right: Temperature, 59; humidity, 47%; occasional light showers—but of what? The sun was a flaming orange ball in a cloudless blue sky. What made it possible was Humphrey Fownes' abstraction; he was an uncommonly preoccupied individual. But he was thinking about weather, which was an unusual subject to begin with for a person living in a domed city. In the ensuing contretemps they emptied his rear pants pockets, got his wristwatch and restored the contents of the handkerchief pocket. It fell on the streets and houses, making small geysers of shiny mist, hitting with a gentle musical sound, like the ephemeral droppings of a celesta. It was precipitation peculiar to a dome: feather-light fragments showering harmlessly on the city from time to time. Dome weevils, their metal arms reaching out with molten glass, roamed the huge casserole, ceaselessly patching and repairing. Humphrey Fownes strode through the puffs of falling glass still intrigued by a temperature that was always 59 degrees, by a humidity that was always 47%, by weather that was always Optimum. It was this rather than skill that enabled the police to maintain such a tight surveillance on him, a surveillance that went to the extent of getting his fingerprints off the postman's bag, and which photographed, X-rayed and chemically analyzed the contents of his pockets before returning them. By the time Fownes reached his front door an entire dossier complete with photographs had been prepared and was being read by two men in an orange patrol car parked down the street. Lanfierre's job was to ferret out aberration. It couldn't be tolerated within the confines of a dome. Conformity had become more than a social force; it was a physical necessity. And, after years of working at it, Lanfierre had become an admirer of eccentricity. He came to see that genuine quirks were rare and, as time went on, due partly to his own small efforts, rarer. He had even contrived to engage him in conversation once, a pleasantly absurd, irrational little chat that titillated him for weeks. After years of searching for differences Lanfierre had seen how extraordinarily repetitious people were, echoes really, dimly resounding echoes, each believing itself whole and separate. "It's like this, MacBride. And if there was a house sitting on such a mountain and if winds did blow, it would shake exactly the way that one does.
 They claim that they are waiting for a sound foreign policy, but they are already living within the government's choice for one
 They are actually content living inside the Dome and are part of a group designed to frame Fownes  They fear they will not survive the elements outside of the Dome, but outside of the Dome is a peaceful place  They like to think of themselves as being valiant and insubordinate, but they are actually afraid and conformist  They claim that they are waiting for a sound foreign policy, but they are already living within the government's choice for one