Ramma led us on a straight course for about half an hour, there being
nothing to steer around, and when that time had elapsed, we found
ourselves in a small, battered city. There were no great buildings or
infrastructure like in Nunami, nor any complex labyrinths like the
Canitaur's military base. Instead there were only weak, unsound huts,
built with a framework of oddly shaped driftwood and covered with a
thick layer of insulating sod. A road ran through the center of the
city, only distinguishable because it was packed down by constant use,
and on either side were groupings of the huts in semi-circular patterns,
with no space between them left unfilled by soil. This created a wind
barrier, preventing the strong winds that whipped across the desert
lands from harassing the inhabitants as they worked and played in their
communal yards. Each such grouping had a field of a strange, potato-like
plant that spread across the back ends of the houses, where the fierce
winds piled up loads of nutrient rich top soil from miles and miles
around. In the center of the protected areas, each of the communities,
for such they were called, had a well that reached hundreds of feet
downwards, bringing them almost unlimited supplies of fresh water. Using
these two major systems, they were able to live in a comfortable manner,
not comfortable in a sense of comparison with the Zards or Canitaurs,
but comfortable in the sense that they had food to eat, clothes to wear,
and shelter to protect them. Under such conditions humanity can thrive,
for happiness is not found in the accumulation of excess comforts, but
in the accumulation of excess love. This the Munams had plenty of, and
from that point of view were more the evolutionary form of humanity than
the devolutionary.

The Munams all wore a sort of close fitting frock, a plain colored one
piece suit that displayed their practicality and modesty. It is a hobby