On entering his flyer Kuila had set the indicator for Central City, and turned the height gauge to the altitude he knew it best to fly. He had no more to do but wait until he arrived at his destination. Had he been able to see the ground over which he was flying, at a height necessary to avoid the irregularities of the Earth's surface, he would not have been interested in the least. For where ages before had flourished beautiful trees and wild jungle verdure; where jeweled pools had lay dimpling in the sun; where brilliant birds and chattering monkeys had lived joyously (in that part of the world that had once been called Brazil) there was nothing now other than a wasteland, grey, bleak and cold, its face like the worn, wrinkled visage of the old. Kuila had with him a collection of ancient books and archives that he had discovered during his life. Many hours he had studied them, and in those hours he had lived not in the barren world of today, but in the beautiful sunlit years that had gone before. In his books he had read of the glory of the sun, of the vast, ever-moving waters (all ice now), of green happy lands, of the moon that had once lighted the sky at night. Ah! if only he could journey to a world that was as fresh and young! Not until he felt the growing stuffiness in his machine, due to the accumulation of carbon dioxide no longer being used by his motor, did he realize that he had come to a stop, and that he was floating like a bubble over the city. Like every man-made structure that still existed Central City had been built in the far-off past. Here had been the core of the once-great realm of the Earth. Here sat the Five, scientists all, who directed the welfare of mankind. Here had the greatest of men lived. Building after building rose thousands of feet in the air, each building an entire community in itself, joined to its neighbors by numberless airways for both pedestrians, ground and air cars. Several great arteries were still used by the small population of the city. But for the most part the city that had once housed thirty millions lay as dead, the skyscrapers untenanted and cold; although to this day there was no sign of decay. One could pass from chamber to chamber and find the belongings of their past owners neatly in order. The decay of the race had been gradual. There had been no hurried flight. Only the slow disintegration of a well-satisfied people. Kuila Rei maneuvered his flyer gently down the roof of perhaps the most gigantic skyscraper in the city. As he drew near he saw that the roofs of the surrounding buildings, as well as the one to which he was descending, were crowded with people. Room was cleared for his machine close to the hangar and a small group detached themselves to aid him in pushing the machine under cover.