The vibrations stirred up by the flying car as it passed from hemisphere to hemisphere jarred it continually, so that the inhabitants had long ago become used to the sounds and sensations of earthquake and whistling steam. Through its shining metal streets went bands of workers continually, marching in regimented ranks, driven by men in uniform who were themselves but members of a higher unit in the organization. The Asian city was a city of two machines. one made of metal and the other flesh. It was, indeed, the highest development of communized life; without individuals, without ideals or private hopes or joys of any kind.Long before, all persons who had sought to express themselves had been exterminated. Their children had also been killed; there were none left now but the meek and the unprotesting. If a rule were made by those in authority, it was implicitly and unquestioningly obeyed, for the essence of the machine was obedience to law. Principles they knew nothing of, save those of the most pragmatic kind.
