And now the job was over, and he realized he couldn’t rest. He didn’t dare. Rest would give him time to remember. Maybe he could find surcease in the gigantic work of reconstruction. Maybe.

“Here we are,” said Robinson.

Drummond blinked in new amazement. There was a car, camouflaged under brush, with a military chauffeur—a car! And in pretty fair shape, too.

“We’ve got a few oil wells going again, and a small patched-up refinery,” explained the general. “It furnishes enough gas and oil for what traffic we have.”

They got in the rear seat. The aide sat in front, a rifle ready. The car started down a mountain road.

“Where to?” asked Drummond a little dazedly.

Robinson smiled. “Personally,” he said, “I’m almost the only lucky man on Earth. We had a summer cottage on Lake Taylor, a few miles from here. My wife was there when the war came, and stayed, and nobody came along till I brought the head offices here with me. Now I’ve got a home all to myself.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re lucky,” said Drummond. He looked out the window, not seeing the sun-spattered woods. Presently he asked, his voice a little harsh: “How is the country really doing now?”

“For a while it was rough. Damn rough. When the cities went, our transportation, communication, and distribution systems broke down. In fact, our whole economy disintegrated, though not all at once. Then there was the dust and the plagues. People fled, and there was open fighting when overcrowded safe places refused to take in any more refugees. Police went with the cities, and the army couldn’t do much patrolling. We were busy fighting the enemy troops that’d flown over the Pole to invade. We still haven’t gotten them all. Bands are roaming the country, hungry and desperate outlaws, and there are plenty of Americans who turned to banditry when everything else failed. That’s why we have this guard, though so far none have come this way.

“The insect and blight weapons just about wiped out our crops, and that winter everybody starved. We checked the pests with modern methods, though it was touch and go for a while, and next year got some food. Of course, with no distribution as yet, we failed to save a lot of people. And farming is still a tough proposition. We won’t really have the bugs licked for a long time. If we had a research center as well equipped as those which produced the things—But we’re gaining. We’re gaining.”

“Distribution—” Drummond rubbed his chin. “How about railroads? Horse-drawn vehicles?”

“We have some railroads going, but the enemy was as careful to dust most of ours as we were to dust theirs. As for horses, they were nearly all eaten that first winter. I know personally of only a dozen. They’re on my place; I’m trying to breed enough to be of use, but”—Robinson smiled wryly—“by the time we’ve raised that many, the factories should have been going quite a spell.”