They stopped before a great golden gate. Persum lifted a small reed to his lips and blew. From it there issued a long, sweet, piercing whistle. Slowly the gates rolled smoothly open, fitting right into the thick walls beside them. Without hesitation Persum walked through the opening. Michel Drawers held back for a moment, blinded by a chance ray of sun-light that bounced off the gleaming sides of one of the buildings. Then, he too entered, and the gates, as if by their own volition, closed behind him. He was in another world now. Gone was all harshness and crudity. Here there was only beauty and color and gold. Buildings in peerless symmetry dug their way through the low hanging clouds to unknown heights. Spell-binding displays of coruscating lights played in rhythms through curious designs of crystals. Later Drawers learned that this corresponded to music--by sight instead of ear. Self-consciously he ambled along the spotless streets behind Persum--streets which seemed to be paved with pure gold. He tried not to notice the open stares given him by the city's inhabitants. He realized that they did not mean to be impolite. It was simply that a man of his bulk was unique in this civilization. More and more as they proceeded he began to take cognizance of the complete absence of transportation of any sort. Everyone here walked. Of course, the slighter gravitational pull made walking considerably less strenuous, but still, that didn't account for the various groups of golden men he had passed, laboriously pulling great blocks of stone by man-power alone--when a small wheeled vehicle, or even one beast of burden would have lightened the load immeasurably. He stopped in utter perplexity though, when he saw a group of golden men attempting to lift an enormous stone block into place by the sheer strength of their bodies. They seemed totally ignorant of the enormous saving in strength and labor that might have been enacted by the building of a simple pulley arrangement. It was becoming increasingly evident that this race's knowledge of even the most fundamental laws of mechanics was practically nil. But as if in compensation, he noted too, that these people seemed to get along with each other without the slightest friction. Nothing seemed sufficient to arouse anger. He wondered if they were incapable of the emotion. The people moved about the streets tending entirely to their own business. There were no doors to any of the dwellings--simply arched openings. Numerous valuable objects such as painstakingly carved chairs, and richly sculptured busts, were present in front of many of the homes. Yet they remained untouched.