ion in terms! We rational humans change the
worlds we occupy! Any rational creature will! So a rational animal is
as nearly impossible as any creature can be. It's true that we've
happened, but--another rational race? Oh, no!"

Murgatroyd said:

"_Chee!_"

The city's towers loomed higher and taller above the horizon. Then,
abruptly, the fast-moving cavalcade came to the edge of the city and
plunged into it.

It was not a normal city. The buildings were not eccentric. All
planets, but very new ones, show local architectural peculiarities, so
it was not odd to see all windows topped by triple arches, or quite
useless pilasters in the brick walls of apartment buildings. These
would have made the city seem only individual. But it was not normal.
The streets were not clean. Two windows in three had been smashed. In
placed Calhoun saw doors that had been broken in and splintered, and
never repaired. That implied violence unrestrained. The streets were
almost empty. Occasional figures might be seen on the sidewalks before
the speeding ground cars, but the vehicles never passed them.
Pedestrians turned corners or dodged into doorways before the
cavalcade could overtake them.

The buildings grew taller. The street level remained empty of humans,
but now and again, many stories up, heads peered out of windows. Then
high-pitched yellings came from aloft. It was not possible to tell
whether they were yells of defiance or derision or despair, but they
were directed at the racing cars.

Calhoun looked quickly at the faces of the men around him. The
Minister for Health looked at once heartbroken and embittered. The
head of the planetary police stared grimly ahead. Screechings and
howlings echoed and re-echoed between the building walls. Objects
began to fall from the windows: bottles, pots and pans. Chairs and
stools twirled and spun, hurtling downward. Everything that was loose
and could be thrown from a window came down, flung by the occupants of
those high dwellings. With them came outcries which were assuredly
cursings.

It occurred to Calhoun that there had been a period in history when
mob-action invariably meant flames. Men burned what they hated and
what they feared. They also burned religious offerings to divers
bloodthirsty deities. It was fortunate, he reflected wryly, that fires
were no longer a matter of common experience, or burning oil and
flaming missiles would have been flung down on the ground cars.

"Is