Urdli looked up in annoyance at the speaker calling his name. He was barely out of the runway from the monstrous aircraft that had carried him over the Pacific, and his stomach was still queasy. He hated air travel. He visited the rest room before going to the infoboard for directions to Baggage Carousel Three. The foolish machine insisted on giving him directions to Carousel Fifteen, asserting that his luggage would be arriving there. He circumvented the paternalistic thing by calling for a general map—with routes to the baggage area.