"Major Thorn, Captain Streeter.... There is probably little I can add to all that has been so thoroughly ingrained in you in your five years of training for this experiment, or learned by both of you, the hard way, in war. But there are certain points I feel I ought to emphasize personally ... even though I know you've heard them many, many times before. "First, this is your country. In the adventure--in the duty, that you are about to undertake, there must be no mistake that your nation comes above _all_ other considerations! Now, I don't question your devotion, I merely re-impress...." Pause. The man was good, all right. "Second, despite what you may have heard from--from any of various sources in recent months, our cold-war Enemy is hard-pressed; he is desperate, and he is likewise determined. Determined as even you may not guess. Our Intelligence has learned that he has trained women to bear arms as well as children for his armies. He has trained them to march, to bivouac, to fly intercontinental bombers, to fly rocket interceptors, to go to the attack with men--and on an equal basis, and in almost equal numbers. A point to remember, even from where you shall soon sit! Don't forget it. "Last, if--and we all pray that it won't happen in this or any other generation--but, _if_ war should come--if some unsuspecting midnight it should suddenly erupt (and such eruption would be on both our shores, smashing all of our greatest cities even as we retaliated) if this happens, gentlemen, you must not forget one thing. You must not forget for an instant that in such a war, _all_ the Enemy must die. "If I sound melodramatic forgive me, and bear with me. You both realize, I'm certain, that any Next War would be a war to the death. After which--" the skillfully-modulated voice lowered, softened, paused, softened again.... "After which, there will be only one of us left. _Because there will be no time for armistice, for truce...._ It will be Our Side, or Theirs. Gentlemen, it _must be Ours! So if there is war, I repeat_, all _the Enemy must die!_ "That's all I have, except to say good luck and God-speed." Very firm hand-shake for each of them, and Final Briefing was over. * * * * * Even yet Joshua Thorn could remember that first emotion shared by himself and Streeter after the effects of the four-G blast-off had worn away, after the tension of establishing orbit was eased, the first report made to Home Plate, and they were at last granted a moment's rest, a moment's respite to look back, to realize.... Done it. Done it.... They had _done_ it! They could almost see themselves, the National Emblem emblazoned brilliantly on their chalk-white metal skin, riding in dignified, silent triumph over all of the Earth. Now let anybody--anybody, anybody anywhere (for weren't they above all of anywhere?) shake a fist, rattle a sabre! First Men in Space. Like God, somehow....