The Consolator touched a hidden switch atop his desk and one of the black onyx walls rippled and seemed to dissolve in mist. A replica of Earth swam through the haze and into view. "Earth. Such an incredibly small planet, Joseph. But the heart of the Galaxy none the less." The replica seemed to swell in size and geographical details became apparent. "Earth. Once a world of gentle, rolling plains, winding rivers, thick forests, wide oceans and soaring mountains. Just like any other habitable planet. And now look at it. One solid mass of buildings and machines, Joseph. We've drained the oceans and filled in their beds with metal. We've destroyed the forests and the rolling plains and planted the land for miles above and below with throbbing inorganic monsters. We've hollowed out the very mountains to make more space. Space for nine hundred billion people, Joseph. And still we are cramped almost beyond belief. We need to expand a hundredfold. But we cannot. There simply is no room left. "No room for the living, Joseph, and this means no more room for the dead, either. Here, let me show you." The scene changed, showing first a huge building, and then, the bottom floor of the edifice. "This is one of our larger buildings, Joseph. It is more than fifty miles long and one hundred miles wide. The bottom floor alone is more than one quarter mile high. This huge space is completely filled with cubes two inches square. Each cube holds the ashes of one human being who wished to find his final resting place on Earth." Consolator Steen made a motion of resignation. "Notice that I said 'on Earth,' Joseph, and not 'in Earth.' This is our 'pauper's field,' the burial ground of those devoted souls who could not afford to be buried _in_ the Earth itself." Joseph Krieg frowned. "But surely underneath the building...." "Underneath the bottom floor of that building are the bodies of many millions more, Joseph, just as there are bodies under all of our buildings. Bodies of those wealthy few who could afford to escape cremation and find surcease of life in the loamy substance of the Earth itself. I shudder to tell you how tightly packed they are, of the skin-tight coffins which we had to devise, of the geometrical tricks involved in jamming as many bodies as possible in the least amount of space. And yet, it _is_ burial, and it is _in_ the Earth itself. No granite monuments, of course, no vases of flowers, no green grass. Just a perpetual flame burning in the main lobby of the building, and a micro-film file available somewhere listing the vital statistics of all those souls whose remains lie in the basement--or below." Krieg's face was furrowed with a heavy frown. Steen's words had been as shocking to the man as Steen had hoped they would be. "But the Parks...."