"Amen to that," said Elonie, and she walked toward me. I rose, and she slid her bare arm through mine. Her face was close to mine, smiling and full of invitation. It seemed that Doriza was going to say something, but Elonie spoke first: "He will need no military aide, Doriza. Nothing military about the Pavilion, you remember." We walked out together--Elonie and myself, then the others. We found a wider corridor, and one full of hum and motion. The smooth floor of the passage was seamed with metal-shod grooves, in which moved vehicles--ovoid vehicles, of various sizes, balancing, it seemed, on one whirring wheel apiece. Elonie escorted me to one such car, which stood poised on its wheel like a dancer on tiptoe. There was room inside for the two of us only, among luxurious cushions. At her respectful invitation I sat inside, and she operated controls. "Thus we travel in this city," she chatted as we rolled along. "Not swiftly, of course, in this nor in our other city, near the South Pole. The real speed is in the way-tunnels between." "Way-tunnels the width of a world?" I asked, wondering. "How can only seven hundred persons do such work?" "You saw the ray-digger on the televiso. There are larger and more complex diggers of that type, by which we can journey almost anywhere underground--clear through the core of Dondromogon and up into Newcomer lands, were it not for the inner fires. Perhaps we shall dig them out by the roots in time, despite their defenses." Once again I thought of so much science and wealth, and of people dying because their rulers thought seven hundred were none too few to enjoy the benefits of a world. We stopped down a fork of the vehicle-corridor, and Elonie dismounted before another of the metal curtain-doors. At her touch of a button and a word into a speaking tube, it opened to us. We passed into a smaller passageway, and then out into a place of aching beauty. My first impression was of pastel lights, changing and mingling constantly--blue, violet, pink, green, orchid, pale. They struck from starlike points in a great domed ceiling, over a floor like a mirror. And the pastel-tinted air was filled with music, soft but penetrating and heady. There was a breeze from somewhere, scented and warm. In and out of other doorways across the floor wandered figures, male and female, murmuring together and helping themselves to cups from great trestles and tables. "The refreshments are provided," Elonie told me softly. "We need not wait for the others. Come, Yandro. They have poured wine--Yandro knows what wine is? And we have music, perfume, light, laughter, and for companions all of Dondromogon." "All?" I repeated. "All save those on guard or garrison duty. Come, mighty one. Know happiness that is worth fighting and conquering to keep." She tugged at my arm, urging me toward the wine-tables.