Of course she knew all about the communication-system. There was nothing mysterious in it. She would summon a car and it would fly with her down the tunnel until it reached the lift that communicated with the air-ship station: the system had been in use for many, many years, long before the universal establishment of the Machine. And of course she had studied the civilization that had immediately preceded her own--the civilization that had mistaken the functions of the system, and had used it for bringing people to things,
instead of for bringing things to people. Those funny old days, when men went for change of air instead of changing the air in their rooms! And yet--she was frightened of the tunnel: she had not seen it since her last child was born. It curved--but not quite as she remembered; it was brilliant--but not quite as brilliant as a lecturer had suggested. Vashti was seized with the terrors of direct experience. She shrank back into the room, and the wall closed up again.
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