"Follow me!" cried Mr. Greypoole, making a hurried gesture and breaking into a run. "Faster!" They stumbled hypnotically through the park, over the Mandarin-bridges to the rock. "Tell them, Captain, tell them to climb the ladder." "Go on up, men." "But we're poisoned, sir!" "_Hurry!_ There's--an antidote in the ship." The crew climbed into the ship. "Captain," invited Mr. Greypoole. Captain Webber ascended jerkily. When he reached the open lock, he turned. His eyes swept over the hills and fields and mountains, over the rivers and houses and still people. He coughed and pulled himself into the rocket. Mr. Greypoole followed. "You don't dislike this ship, do you--that is, the surroundings are not offensive?" "No; we don't dislike the ship." "I am glad of that--if _only_ I had been allowed more latitude! But everything functions so well here; no real choice in the matter, actually. No more than the Sealing Film. And they _would_ leave me with these human emotions! I see, of course, why the communications system doesn't work, why my calendar is out of commission. Kind of Mr. Waldmeyer to arrange for them to stop when his worst fears finally materialized. Are the men all seated? No, no, they mustn't writhe about the floor like that. Get them to their stations--no, to the stations they would most prefer. And hurry!" Captain Webber ordered Mr. Chitterwick to the galley, Mr. Goeblin to the engineering chair, Mr. Friden to the navigator's room.... "Sir, what's going to happen? _Where's the antidote?_" Mr. Milton to the pilot's chair.... "The pain will last only another moment or so--it's unfortunately part of the Eternifier," said Mr. Greypoole. "There, all in order? Good, good. Now, Captain, I see understanding in your face; that pleases me more than I can say. My position is so difficult! But you can see, when a machine is geared to its job--which is to retain permanence on HAPPY GLADES--well, a machine is a machine. Where shall we put _you_?" Captain Webber leaned on the arm of the little man and walked to the open lock. "You _do_ understand?" asked Mr. Greypoole. Captain Webber's head nodded halfway down, then stopped; and his eyes froze forever upon the City. "A pity...." The little man with the thin hair walked about the cabins and rooms, straightening, dusting; he climbed down the ladder, shook his head and started down the path to the wooden house. When he had washed all the empty glasses and replaced them, he sat down in the large leather chair and adjusted himself into the most comfortable position. His eyes stared in waxen contentment at the homely interior, with its lavender wallpaper, needle-point tapestries and tidy arrangement. He did not move.