Professor John Nova McKay went on with the stock lecture. How many times had it been repeated now, some 80,000? He himself had delivered it over a thousand times. It was hard to keep the monotony out of his tones. "Ships roared into space at the end of the 20th century. First, to explore and pioneer on nearby worlds of the same sun. By the 25th century, they had the Hyper Drive, permitting speeds greater than light. Then began the second phase of building a galactic commonwealth. Those were days of glory." The speaker tried to lift his voice on those words but it fell flat in his own ears. But the audience hung on it, caught in the dramatic thought that their own feet stood where all that had started. "This is all ancient space history going back 14,000 years, and many of its details and records are lost. But we know that by the 30th century we humans ranged all through the Milky Way, settling, colonizing, setting up trade with native races. Worlds existed in vast numbers, many habitable." Blake stopped muttering apologies as he elbowed his way inch by inch. The apologies drew frosty frowns, and were the last thing they wanted. They wanted silence. Only Blake's bag insisted on clanking now and then. He kept on doggedly. Professor McKay's voice rolled over the rapt faces. "Today, there are over a million commonwealth planets, about half under native rule, friendly to us. On the other half no native intelligence survived, and they thus became our own home planets. Earthmen came to dominate the galaxy but only in the sense that they were the single largest and most prolific race." McKay's dry voice quickened now, as the most unique part of the stock historical story came at last. "But strangely, during that era of galactic expansion, Earth itself gradually faded out of the picture. More and more people left, seeking better homes, richer opportunities, more desirable locations and neighborhoods in the galaxy. Population fell on Earth. "This was all hastened and brought to a focus when the sun of Earth suddenly began dimming in the 49th century. An old star, that sun died. In a short time, by the cosmic clock, another ice age fell on Earth--the final one. The oceans froze solid and all land areas turned to bleak wasteland." There was a suitable pause at this point for the audience to weigh that calamitous event. People stood hushed, half in ancient sorrow. Blake stopped, hardly daring to breathe. One clank now and he might be thrown out. "Of course, long before the final death of the planet, the last Earthmen had left for other waiting homes. There was no swift storylike doom. No panic or hardship or loss of life. And then, perhaps inevitably but still queerly, Earth receded in all human memory and was forgotten."