When the first warm breeze of doomsday came, the summers were ready... They had used their great wealth to forge a citadel in their beautiful valley. Their descendants would have all they needed to raise food and do the scientific research to insure survival. But they had not counted on sterility. Now that final pocket of humanity was threatened. The creation of clones seemed the only answer. But the answer turnd bitter when the creations turned against their creators and the very last battle of the world was fought on the very ground... Where late the sweet birds sang.