He halted at the scene outside. Stretching into a misty distance, the city of Detroy was a flat plane of concrete-like earth, broken by rows of long, low buildings and a great tower, windows at the summit, which soared high above the vast expanse. He glanced about and saw everywhere the same monotonous panorama--oblong, single-story compartments like the one he had left, glaring whitely metallic in the noon-day sun. The high structure, the sole dominating object, towered above everything else. Lazy clouds wandered over in a sky of summer blue. The streets swarmed with many machines, all constructed like himself, entering and leaving the buildings, rolling purposefully about everywhere, like little cars. There were numbers upon their shells, none exceeding one hundred. Nervously he watched several approach, but they passed, paid him no attention. There was no sound but the soft whine of resilient wheels upon the street, an occasional murmur of unintelligible, passing conversation. But he must find the humans! Where were the stock yards? To ask might arouse suspicion. He would have to chance being taken for one of the others, though he had no number. He rolled aimlessly down the street. As he passed one building--all of them were alike--he heard the vibrant hum of a great machinery and peering in the open door, he saw a gigantic room filled with dynamos and electrical apparatus of a simplified, advanced design. It must be a sort of power plant, he thought as he moved on. There was scarcely any fraternizing, Rod observed. The Capeks kept mostly to themselves; carefully avoided collision and there was no salutations in passing. They truly were things without feeling. Doubtless, only the governing idea, of which 83 had spoken, forced their concerted interest in a common society. Unheeded, he advanced up the crowded thoroughfare. Two machines approached carrying a long, metal box. It was open at the top and Rod glanced into the container as they passed. With revulsion he saw that it held the trephined body of a man, newly dead, fresh blood upon the smoothly severed crown of the skull. The top of the shaved head also lay in the box. And weak with new waves of nausea, he saw that the brain had been cleanly removed. The rest of the nude body was intact. The machines carrying the grizzly burden passed on. A human corpse, freshly dead! The repugnance of the sight was swept away by a sudden flash of logic. They must have come from the stock yards.... Rod looked cautiously about--there was no suspicious glance at him--slowly, with a pretense of just remembering something, he turned and followed. The Capeks carried the ghastly box a short way down the street, halted before a small building. A sliding door opened at a touch and the container was shoved in, to disappear down a winding shoot. The door closed and they returned the way they had come.