Adjoining the single room was a small bathroom with all its necessary features, and on the far side of the room was a small closet. Herein were three faucets and a cupboard. One faucet gave water, and the other two faucets each emitted a liquid food that was the mainstay of the Earth's thousands. Once man ate the flesh of animals, but animals, as well as leaves, fruits and roots of grasses and vegetation had passed away. Man had discovered thereafter that the food products of trees, and later of minerals, were even more highly efficient, and though Man lost sense of taste he gained a better store of body energy. The machinery that produced the tasteless liquids also brought forth cubes of highly concentrated food that was preserved in this manner for indefinite periods. And, as one cube a day together with a measure of liquid is sufficient for the human, it was possible to carry several months' supply on one's person without taking up much space. Consequently the pleasure of eating had been lost, but the tripled efficiency of the food overcame that loss. Kuila Rei drew a glass of the colorless liquid that was hot to the taste; and then threw himself on a couch. He did not sleep immediately, dreaming rather of the girl he had just left. Soon, however, sleep claimed him. He was awakened by a metallic voice near at hand, coming from a small instrument on one of the nearby tables, that informed him that the hour of meeting in the Auditorium was at hand. He found Ramo Rei at the place they had named for their tryst, and together the pair took their places on the benches arranged to seat the several thousand the building was housing. They were addressed by an official who spoke of what the machines had been doing in the bowels of the Earth; of what they would find in their new home; of what would be the duty of every man and woman. It was not a beautiful prospect he painted for them, but then there was no reason to paint the picture any brighter than it was. He explained that everyone was to carry on the type of work that he was accustomed to atop the Earth, and for those whose type of employment would be of no use under the Earth's crust, new work should be found. Ramo and Kuila turned to each other with a question. What could they, the astronomers, do now? It would take years before shafts could be dug through the earth back to the summits of the mountains whereon stood the observatories. Well, whatever might come, it was certain that the twain would stick together. They went into a conservatory and strolled there together for hours. Then, when the hour of dawn was again at hand, they repaired to the roof. Two more days passed in the same manner, and on the third day word was noised about that the last hour was at hand. The Sun was in its death throes.