"In a hospital," answered the voice. "A hospital? Where? On Earth?" "Of course," the voice laughed. "You're in Base Hospital Number 61-X, at Delhi. I'm your nurse." "I see. The battle's over, then." "Months ago. After our ships fired blasts between sections of the asteroid and then destroyed them, you were one of the few survivors found floating in space among the wreckage. It's been a fight to keep you alive." He lay still and thought silently. "Am I blind?" he asked at length. "No, but leave that bandage on your eyes alone. Plenty of time to see everything when the doctor takes it off." "I understand," he said. "And am I--badly hurt?" "You were. But we've put you together, as good as new. It will take many days more, but you'll walk and talk and see and fly again. And you'll still have your good looks, too." Again he was quiet. The nurse broke the silence. "Something was left here for you." He heard the rattle of a paper wrapping. Then a small object was placed in his palm. It seemed to be a bit of metal, cut into the shape of a many-pointed star and depending from a strip of ribbon. "The president of the Terrestrial League brought you that with his own hands," the nurse told him. "Shall I read the citation?" "Do." "Very well, listen. 'In recognition of the intelligent and loyal service rendered in capturing an enemy scout and securing from him information of paramount importance to the Terrestrial arms on or about the first day of October, 2675; and for courageous and successful attempts and actions against and in the presence of a superior armed force of the enemy on or about the third day of March, 2676; I, Silas Parrish, president of the Terrestrial League, by authority vested in me by the government of the planet Earth, do confer upon Captain Neil Andresson, unattached, the highest award for valor and service that is within the gift of the body I represent; to wit, the Medal of Honor of the Terrestrial League.'" She stopped reading. "But it calls me a captain!" exclaimed Neil. "I'm only a scout." "You have the rank of captain now. It's honorary, of course. You'll be out of the hospital before the beginning of the year, but you won't be able to go into action again before the whole mess is settled." He heard her lay the medal and document down. Then her footsteps went echoing away. "Hello, Neil," said a voice he knew. "Yaxa!" he cried. "You here?" "In the cot next to you. They picked us up together, I'm told." "Badly wounded?" "Worse than you. Both my legs have been taken off." Neil said nothing for a moment. "It could be worse," he ventured at last. "Oh yes. Life is worth living, even with artificial limbs." "Can you see, Yaxa." "Perfectly." "Here then. The war's over, at least so far as we're concerned. Let's call it quits." He painfully stretched out his hand toward the place from which Yaxa's voice came. After a moment he felt the Martian's spidery fingers on it.