The sound of the voice stabbed at Jerry. He studied the wavering dark form in front of his eyes, and recognition of the voice came slowly. The white blob of the face must belong to Lieutenant Blake. Ordinarily Jerry would have snapped to attention and saluted, but at the moment the formality seemed ridiculous. "I guess I'm all right, sir." "Good!" That was all Blake said as he passed from Jerry's view. * * * * * In Jerry's earphones it sounded like a strong wind was blowing. It could be the roar of a fleet of rocket planes. Was this the follow-up attack? Why wasn't the order given to man the gun? He groped forward and sprawled over a pile of debris. Where was everybody? Where was Blake? He called out. "Take it easy, Conlon," a voice said beside him. "Who--who is it?" Jerry asked, trying to determine the source of the voice. "It's me--Adam Peterman. You'll be all right after awhile. What'd you do--look into the flash?" "I saw the flash. Good God! Am I going blind?" "I once looked at a test blast with a radiation suit on. They still haven't perfected these lenses to shut out all the glare. You'll be like that for a couple of hours." "How many of the boys did the blast get?" Here he was, Jerry thought, asking about the six men in the gun crew when there must have been thousands--maybe millions--dead in the city, or what must be left of it. "There's just three of us alive so far," Peterman said. "The Lieutenant found Kroger, but he'd been crushed. The rest are either buried or blown away." "How about you? I still can't see where you are," Jerry said. "Are you hurt?" "My legs got messed up. I'm sitting on the ground. That's why you can't see me." "What about the city? What's left of it?" "From where I'm sitting I should be able to see the tops of some of the taller buildings over the concrete, but there's nothing there. I hate to think about it." "If there is anything left, the rocket planes will bring 'em down." "What rocket planes?" "Can't you hear 'em? That roar in the air. It almost drowns out the geiger meter on my suit." "Naw, Conlon, that isn't what you think! You're still hearing the sound of the blast." "After this long?" "It doesn't die out for a long time." Jerry thought about Mildred and Billy. It was this bad even in a radiation suit with special lenses to protect the eyes; special braces to minimize the shock wave effects; special material perfected during the latter part of the century to deflect ultra-radiation. How would Mildred and Billy fare back home where they were unprotected? They might even be dead. But no! They couldn't be! They were all he had left in life. They just had to be alive! The shadowy blob which was Lieutenant Blake, moved into Jerry's line of vision. Blake's form seemed to be getting smaller now; the haziness around the edges seemed to be dwindling. "How are you Peterman?" Blake asked the man with the wounded legs.