All the land surface of Trantor, 75,000,000 square miles in extent, was a single city. The population, at its height, was well in excess of forty billions. This enormous population was devoted almost entirely to the administrative necessities of Empire, and found themselves all too few for the complications of the task. (It is to be remembered that the impossibility of proper administration of the Galactic Empire under the uninspired leadership of the later Emperors was a considerable factor in the Fall.) Daily, fleets of ships in the tens of thousands brought the produce of twenty agricultural worlds to the dinner tables of Trantor. . . . (Encyclopedia Galactica) – Trantor
I hate the outdoors. Most of the time my idea of a perfect place to live would be in a domed city with no creepy crawly bugs, vicious animals or unrestrained plant life. But we’ve still got a long way to go before we finish paving over the planet. In the meantime, we share it with all kinds of creatures.
I saw a dead fox by the side of the road this morning.
I’ve become used to the sight of dead birds and squirrels, even possum and armadillos. I can almost pass by a dead dog or cat without giving it a second glance. But this beautiful, red fox, lying in the median of a 6-lane thoroughfare gave me pause.
Where did it come from? It was near the overpass of an interstate highway, buildings all around, right in the middle of the evidence of our obsessive need to put up another structure and connect it with concrete paths for our wheeled pollution factories. It made me stop and think about the consequences of my dislike for nature.