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r magnetic car； went across at least eighty…four submaps。 His destination might very well be on the other side of the planetl A city as large as a planet＇ The concept was almost too big to grasps In fact； when he thought about it； the concept was too big to grasp。
The sandwiches he had bought from the dispenser in the barracks ran out before he was halfway to his destination； and his stomach； greedily getting adjusted to solid food again； rumbled plaints until he left the slideway in Area 9266…L； Level something or other； or wherever the hell he was； and looked for a canteen。 He was obviously in a Typing Area； because the crowds were posed almost pletely of women with rounded shoulders and great； long fingers。 The only canteen he could find was jammed with them； and he sat in the middle of the high…pitched； yattering crowd and forced himself to eat a meal posed of the only available food： dated…fruitbreadcheese…and…anchovy…paste sandwiches and mashed potatoes with raisin and onion sauce； washed down by herb tea served lukewarm in cups the
size of his thumb。 It wouldn't have been so bad if the dispenser hadn't automatically covered everything with butterscotch sauce。 None of the girls seemed to notice him； since they were all under light hypnosis during the working day in order to cut down their error percentages。 He worked his way through the food feeling very much like a ghost as they tittered and yammered over and around him； their fingers； if they weren't eating； pulsively typing their words onto the edge of the table while they talked。 He finally escaped； but the meal had had a depressing effect； and this was probably where he made the mistake and boarded the wrong car。
Since the same level and block numbers were repeated in every area； it was possible to get into the wrong area and spend a good deal of time getting good and lost before the mistake was finally realized。 Bill did this； and after the usual astronomical number of changes and varieties of transportation he boarded the elevator that terminated； he thought； in the galaxy…famed Palace Gardens。 All of the other passengers got off on lower levels； and the robelevator picked up speed as it hurtled up to the topmost level。 He rose into the air as it braked to a stop； and his ears popped with the pressure change； and when the doors opened he stepped out into a snow…filled wind。 He gaped about with unbelief and behind him the doors snicked shut and the elevator vanished。
The doors had opened directly onto the metal plain that made up the topmost layer of the city； now obscured by the swirling clouds of snow。 Bill groped for the button to recall the elevator； when a vagrant swirl of wind whipped the snow away and the warm sun beat down on him from the cloudless sky。 This was impossible。
〃This is impossible；〃 Bill said with forthright indignation。
〃Nothing is impossible if I will it；〃 a scratchy voice spoke from behind Bill's shoulder。 〃For I am the Spirit of Life。〃
Bill skittered sideways like a homeostatic robhorse； rolling his eyes at the small； white…whiskered man with a twitching nose and red…rimmed eyes who had appeared soundlessly behind him。
〃You got a leak in your think…tank；〃 Bill snapped； angry at himself for being so goosy。
〃You'd be nuts； too； on this job；〃 the little man sobbed； and knuckled a pendant drop from his nose。 〃Half…froze； halfcooked and half…wiped out most of the time on oxy。 The Spirit of Life；〃 he quavered； 〃mine is the power 。 。 。〃
〃Now that you mention it；〃 Bill's words were muffled by a sudden flurry of snow； 〃I am feeling a bit high myself。 Wheeee 。 。 。 ！！〃 The wind veered and swept the occluding clouds of snow away； and Bill gaped at the suddenly revealed view。
Slushy snow and pools of water spotted the surface as far as he could see。 The golden coating had been worn away； and the metal was gray and pitted beneath； streaked with ruddy rivulets of rust。 Rows of great pipes； each thicker than a man is tall； snaked toward him from over the horizon and ended in funnel like mouths。 The funnels were obscured by whirling clouds of vapor and snow that shot high into the air with a hushed roar； though one of the vapor columns collapsed and the cloud dispersed while Bill watched。
〃Number eighteen blown！〃 the old man shouted into a microphone； grabbed a clipboard from the wall； and kicked his way through the slush toward a rusty and dilapidated walkway that groaned and rattled along parallel with the pipes。 Bill followed； shouting at the man； who now pletely ignored him。 As the walkway； clanking and swaying； carried them along； Bill began to wonder just where the pipes led； and after a minute； when his head cleared a bit； curiosity got the better of him and he strained ahead to see what the mysterious bumps were on the horizon。 They slowly resolved themselves into a row of giant spaceships； each one connected to one of the thick pipes。 With unexpected agility the old man sprang from the walkway and bounded toward the ship at station eighteen； where the tiny figures of workers； high up； were disconnecting the seals that joined the ship to the pipe。 The old man copied numbers from a meter attached to the pipe； while Bill watched a crane swing over with the end of a large； flexible hose that emerged from the surface they were standing on。 It was attached to the valve on top of the spaceship。 A rumbling vibration shook the hose； and from around the seal to the ship emerged puffs of black cloud that drifted over the stained metal plain。
〃Could I ask just what the hell is going on here？〃 Bill said plaintively。
〃Life！ Life everlasting！〃 the old man crowed； swinging up from the glooms of his depression toward the heights of manic elation。
〃Could you be a little more specific？〃
〃Here is a world sheathed in metal；〃 he stamped his foot and there was a dull boom。 〃What does that mean？〃
〃It means the world is sheathed in metal。〃
〃Correct。 For a trooper you show a remarkable turn of intelligence。 So you take a planet and cover it with metal； and you got a planet where the only green growing things are in the Imperial Gardens and a couple of window boxes。 Then what do you have？〃
〃Everybody dead；〃 Bill said； for after all； he was a farm boy and up on all the photosynthesis and chlorophyll bowb。
〃Correct again。 You and。 I and the Emperor and a couple of billion other slobs are working away turning all the oxygen into carbon dioxide； and with no plants around to turn it back into oxygen and if we keep at it long enough we breathe ourselves to death。〃
〃Then these ships are bringing in liquid oxygen？〃
The old man bobbed his head and jumped back 。onto the slideway； Bill followed。 〃Affirm。 They get it for free on the agricultural planets。 And after they empty here they load up with carbon extracted at great expense from the CO； and whip back with it to the hickworlds； where it is burned for fuel； used for fertilizer； bined into numberless plastics and other products 。 。 。〃
Bill stepped from the slideway at the nearest elevator； while the old man and his voice vanished into the vapor； and crouching down； his head pounding from the oxy jag； he began flipping furiously through his floor plan。 While he waited fo