That was the city of Maris III, which had been built to receive colonists from Dettra and relieve the population-pressure there. It had been planned as the nucleus of a splendid, spacious, civilized world-nation to be added to the number of human-occupied worlds. From its beginning it should hold a population in the hundreds of thousands. It was surrounded by cultivated fields, and the air above it should be a-shimmer with flying things belonging to its inhabitants. Calhoun stared at it through his binoculars. They could not make an image, even so near, to compare to that the electron telescope had made from space, but he could see much. The city was perfect. It was intact. It was new. But there was no sign of occupancy anywhere in it. It did not look dead, so much as frozen. There were no fliers above it. There was no motion on the highways. He saw one straight road which ran directly away along his line of sight. Had there been vehicles on it, he would have seen at least shifting patches of color as clots of traffic moved together. There were none. He pressed his lips together. He began to inspect the nearer terrain. He saw foreshortened areas where square miles of ground had been cleared and planted to Earth vegetation. The ground would have been bulldozed clean, and then great sterilizers would have lumbered back and forth, killing every native seed and root and even the native soil-bacteria. Then there would have been spraying with cultures of the nitrogen-fixing and phosphorous-releasing microscopic organisms which normally lived in symbiosis with Earth-plants. They would have been tested beforehand for their ability to compete with indigenous bacterial life. And then Earth-plants would have been seeded. They had been. Calhoun saw that inimitable green which a man somehow always recognizes. It is the green of plants whose ancestors throve on Earth and have followed that old planet's children halfway across the galaxy. "The population must be practically nothing," growled Calhoun, "because it doesn't show. But the part of it in the city wants to keep whatever's happened from the Med Service. Hm-m-m. They're not dying, or they'd want help. But at least one dead man wasn't in the city where he belonged, and he could have used some help! Maybe there are more like him." Murgatroyd said, "_Chee!_" "If there are two kinds of people here," added Calhoun darkly, "they might be--antagonistic to each other." He stared with knitted brows over the vast expanse toward the horizon. Murgatroyd had halted a little behind him. He stood up on his hind legs and stared intently off to one side. He shaded his eyes with a forepaw in a singularly humanlike fashion and looked inquisitively at something he saw. But Calhoun did not notice.