center. Thus, paradoxically, it was the last city to be
completely evacuated, and so, although the massive but jerry-built
apartment houses that lined the streets were already crumbling, the
roads had been kept in fairly good shape and were hardly cracked at all.

Still, here and there the green was pushing its way up in unlikely
places. A few more of New York's tropical summers, and Long Island would
soon become a wilderness.

The streets were empty, except for the cats sunning themselves on
long-abandoned doorsteps or padding about on obscure errands of their
own. Perhaps their numbers had not increased since humanity had left the
city to them, but there certainly seemed to be more--striped and solid,
black and grey and white and tawny--accepting their citizenship with
equanimity. They paid no attention to Johnson--they had long since
dissociated themselves from a humanity that had not concerned itself
greatly over their welfare. On the other hand, neither he nor the
surface car appeared to startle them; the old ones had seen such before,
and to kittens the very fact of existence is the ultimate surprise.

The Queensborough Bridge was deadly silent. It was completely empty
except for a calico cat moving purposefully toward Manhattan. The
structure needed a coat of paint, Johnson thought vaguely, but of course
it would never get one. Still, even uncared for, the bridges should
outlast him--there would be no heavy traffic to weaken them. Just in
case of unforeseeable catastrophe, however--he didn't want to be trapped
on an island, even Manhattan Island--he had remembered to provide
himself with a rowboat; a motorboat would have been preferable, but then
the fuel difficulty would arise again....

How empty the East River looked without any craft on it! It was rather a
charming little waterway in its own right, though nothing to compare
with the stately Hudson. The water scintillated in the sunshine and the
air was clear and fresh, for no factories had spewed fumes and smoke
into it for many years. There were few gulls, for nothing was left for
the scavenger; those remaining were forced to make an honest living by
catching fish.

In Manhattan, where the buildings had been more soundly constructed, the
signs of abandonment were less evident ... empty streets, an occasional
cracked window. Not even an unusual amount of dirt because, in the
past, the normal activities of an industrial and ruggedly individual
city had pr