A week later, the city of Wiener rose before him from the wide flatlands of Northern Texas. He paused, reined in his horse, looked at the low sprawling wall of metal that rambled out over the desert.
He urged the tired mutie on. Hooves kicked up dry bursts of yellow sand.
As he drew near he could see that the wall was solid from side to side. This was no encircled city; it was one huge building, probably sunk deep into the earth.
Sunlight glinted flashingly off the metal wall. Kesley squinted, saw a dot of brightness detach itself from the city and come humming across the sands toward him. The City of Wiener was taking no chances, apparently; they were going to intercept him before he got too close.
He waited for the vehicle to approach. As it drew near, he saw that it was unmanned, merely a hollow shell made of some bright metal, teardrop-shaped and empty.
"Please get inside," a dead-sounding voice requested. "We will take you to the city."
Shrugging, Kesley rode forward; the teardrop split into halves. He guided his mount inside; the great door dropped closed again, and a moment later he was heading at a terrifying speed toward the metal city.
The humming teardrop sped across the empty wastes; within, through a clear plastic window, Kesley watched the metal building loom larger.
Then they were almost next to it, and abruptly a section of the building's gleaming wall opened. The teardrop shot in without reducing speed, slid along a banked incline that swung it in a wide curve through a vast enclosed area and gradually brought it to a halt. The teardrop split open again and, somewhat shaken, Kesley and his mount left it.
He looked around. The place was brightly lit despite the total absence of windows; the ceiling was some fifty feet above his head, and he could see stairwells spiraling down deep into the earth. Along one wall rose a shining mass of dials and meters, switches and complex instruments which seemed to be moving rapidly from one position to another sheerly of their own accord.
All around him were machines. He felt a strange queasiness. Machines were things to fear; they had destroyed the world, once. The sight of them, clicking and humming and carrying out their unknown functions, disturbed him immensely.