A world had collapsed around this man -- a world that would never shout his praises again. The burned-out cities were still and dead, the twisted bodies and twisted souls giving him their last salute in death. And now he was alone, alone surrounded by memories, alone and waiting . . . Sometimes the queerly shaped Venusian trees seemed to talk to him, but their voices were soft. They were loyal people. There were four men in the lifeboat that came down from the space-cruiser. Three of them were still in the uniform of the Galactic Guards.