 What seems to be true about the world Rikud lives in?
When nobody aboard ship remembers where it's going, how can they tell when it has arrived? Every day for a week now, Rikud had come to the viewport to watch the great changeless sweep of space. But ever since the engines somewhere in the rear of the world had changed their tone, from the steady whining Rikud had heard all twenty-five years of his life, to the sullen roar that came to his ears now, the feelings had grown. And, because he had realized this odd difference in himself, he kept it locked up inside him. The stars—it was a meaningless concept to Rikud, but that was what everyone called the bright pinpoints of light on the black backdrop in the viewport—were not apparent in the speckled profusion Rikud had always known. Instead, there was more of the blackness, and one very bright star set apart by itself in the middle of the viewport. Rikud knew he should be exercising now, or bathing in the rays of the health-lamps. Often Rikud had dreamed of the time he would be thirty and a father. But it came again, and each time it left him with a feeling he could not explain. Rikud knew that something which he could not explain had entered the elder man's head for a moment, but it had departed almost before Chuls knew of its existence. "I'll go with you," Rikud told him. Rikud, for his part, wanted to get back to the viewport and watch the one new bright star. Rikud muttered to himself and undressed. There was a strange thought, and Rikud's brain whirled once more down the tortuous course of half-formed questions and unsatisfactory answers. But something soft had cushioned the impact—something which had come into being just for the moment and then abruptly passed into non-being again, something which was as impalpable as air. Rikud had been stopped in this action, although there was no real authority to stop him.
 It's run by machines, and no longer run by people. There is no room for decisions.
 It's run by machines, and no longer run by people. There is no room for decisions.  Change never happens. It's a concept that's been erased.  Women and men are segregated, because they can't live with one another.  It's run by machines, and no longer run by people. They remember a time when they could make decisions, but no longer can.