"From this height, the various precincts were clearly marked. The medical complex, bright and white and vast. The mathematical eyrie clung to the side of a mountain, not far below the astronomer's peak. The psychologists had built themselves a maze to navigate; mastering it was a graduation requirement. The tower of art centered the campus, a frothy creation of violet spun-steel. And the historians lived within an immense Mughal palace, a testatment to the glories of their ancestors.
.His destination was not so visible; his fellow programmers had buried themselves underground, for the sake of their machines. But he knew where to go. To the eastern edge of campus, near the Warren, where the monsters lived. Avian, saurian, gasbags, methane breathers -- all the bizarre variations the universe had offered up, once humans escaped the confines of Old Earth. All the aliens that could survive on a planet's surface, in human-comfortable temperatures, at any rate. Just west of the Warren lay the entrance to the programmers lair, a massive gate of metal wrought in fantastic shapes. He had the key. The men would be waiting."