窓の外に見える山々について、ヴァシュティが客室乗務員に質問します。 かつての「世界の屋根」、神々が住んでいると言われた（once called the Roof of the World）ヒマラヤ山脈も、マシーンのおかげで簡単に飛び越えることができるのです。
“Those mountains to the right ―― let me show you them.” She pushed back a metal blind. The main chain of the Himalayas was revealed. “They were once called the Roof of the World, those mountains.”
“You must remember that, before the dawn of civilization, they seemed to be an impenetrable wall that touched the stars. It was supposed that no one but the gods could exist above their summits. How we have advanced, thanks to the Machine!”
“How we have advanced, thanks to the Machine!” said Vashti.
“How we have advanced, thanks to the Machine!” echoed the passenger who had dropped his Book the night before, and who was standing in the passage.
“And that white stuff in the cracks?–what is it?”
“I have forgotten its name.”
“Cover the window, please. These mountains give me no ideas.”
The northern aspect of the Himalayas was in deep shadow: on the Indian slope the sun had just prevailed. The forests had been destroyed during the literature epoch for the purpose of making newspaper-pulp, but the snows were awakening to their morning glory, and clouds still hung on the breasts of Kinchinjunga. In the plain were seen the ruins of cities, with diminished rivers creeping by their walls, and by the sides of these were sometimes the signs of vomitories, marking the cities of to day. Over the whole prospect air-ships rushed, crossing the inter-crossing with incredible aplomb, and rising nonchalantly when they desired to escape the perturbations of the lower atmosphere and to traverse the Roof of the World.
“We have indeed advance, thanks to the Machine,” repeated the attendant, and his the Himalayas behind a metal blind.
The day dragged wearily forward. The passengers sat each in his cabin, avoiding one another with an almost physical repulsion and longing to be once more under the surface of the earth. There were eight or ten of them, mostly young males, sent out from the public nurseries to inhabit the rooms of those who had died in various parts of the earth. The man who had dropped his Book was on the homeward journey. He had been sent to Sumatra for the purpose of propagating the race. Vashti alone was travelling by her private will.
この飛行船に乗っているのは、大概が若い男子。地球各地の亡くなった人間のために空き部屋に補充される（mostly young males, sent out from the public nurseries to inhabit the rooms of those who had died in various parts of the earth）、って書いてあるわ。
「マシーンの書」を床に落とした男性は、人類繁殖のために（for the purpose of propagating the race）派遣されていたスマトラ島から、家に帰る旅だそうよ。つまり、本物の「旅」をしているのはヴァシティだけ。
At midday she took a second glance at the earth. The air-ship was crossing another range of mountains, but she could see little, owing to clouds. Masses of black rock hovered below her, and merged indistinctly into grey. Their shapes were fantastic; one of them resembled a prostrate man.
“No ideas here,” murmured Vashti, and hid the Caucasus behind a metal blind.
In the evening she looked again. They were crossing a golden sea, in which lay many small islands and one peninsula. She repeated, “No ideas here,” and his Greece behind a metal blind.
「ここは思索の場ではない（No ideas here）」と口癖のようにつぶやくヴァシュティ。そろそろ彼女の旅の終点が見えてきそうです。 この続きは来年から！