Dead End 3

Dead End 3

"I'd give a lot to have him meet a human female," said Prime Center

wistfully.

 

"What shall I do?"

 

"Stay with him and wait," ordered Prime Center. "This is the first

time the hopes of humanity lie in one man. Remember that. We can only

serve," he added bitterly. "He hasn't tested the final limitation?

Good. Keep me informed."

 

* * * * *

 

John Davis Drumstetter stayed beside his huge mind machine for nearly a

week, and, though he was only sixty, he looked like an old man when he

greeted Monica and Norcross at the end of that time.

 

"The relay is finished," he announced. "It's being installed in the

_Last Hope_ now. That's what I'm calling my ship, the ship to make

mankind free of the stars. My work on Earth is nearly done."

 

"But, Johnny darling," said Monica Drake Lane, looking up at him

through her eyelashes, "what about our marriage?"

 

He looked at her with grim pity. "The bower was an old bower," he

answered. "Did you have the courage to be a unique in a patterned

world? Can you reproduce, Monica Drake Lane?"

 

"Oh, Johnny--"

 

"The final limitation!" he said. "Humans have the power to command

pseudo-life. Pseudo-life, answer! I command!"

 

She sank to the ground.

 

"No," she said, "no, Johnny, I can't have a baby. I died over a month

ago. I'm sorry you found out."

 

John Davis Drumstetter turned on Scientist William Manning Norcross.

"You've done no new work because you have no capacity for it. Correct?

Answer, pseudo-life, I command!"

 

Norcross lifted a calm face. "Why, yes," he said, "I'm pseudo-life.

Have been for over two years. But don't you worry, Johnny, it's better

this way and only natural that--"

 

John Davis Drumstetter paid no attention. He spoke as if explaining

to himself. "You see, they're pseudo-life, dancing to the very end of

the masquerade ball that started so long ago. It began when measurable

science, the science of finity, made a finite man, a man _nearly_

as good. It was the mental climate of an age that wanted its books

digested, and then abandoned reading for television. They froze

food and precooked it and said it was even better than garden fresh

vegetables.

 

"Do it the easy way, they said, never knowing that the hard way is the

only way in the last analysis. Why try to cure a neurotic when you can

make a pseudo-life of him? Don't let his grieving friends and relations

suffer; provide them with a pseudo-life. He's just the same, they said,

and he's not sick. And should a man die? Oh, no! Make a pseudo-life for

his wife and children."

 

"But, Johnny--"

 

"Be still, pseudo-life! Why bother with men who were beginning to

understand the human mind, when you can create pseudo-life? The cheap

drives out the good every time. Oh, with the kindliest intentions, with

the softest sympathies! Hide. Conceal. The truth be damned!"

 

"But, Johnny darling--" began Monica Drake Lane.

 

"Be still, pseudo-life. There's one more thing, the final capstone to

mankind's pyramid of folly." He got Prime Center on the communication.

"Answer, pseudo-life, I command. Am I the last human being on Earth?"

 

"Since you put it that way," said Prime Center reluctantly, "you are."

 

"And in the Solar System?"

 

"I'm afraid so."

 

The communication dropped from John Davis Drumstetter's hand.

 

"This is the logical conclusion," he said slowly. "The actors are

playing on a stage of worlds for an audience of one. At the solar

observatory on Mercury, astronomers study the Sun and send in their

reports, in case I should glance at them. In the mines of Pluto, miners

dig ore to provide a market quotation I might see in the telepapers."

 

He kicked the communication across the floor.

 

"Get out," he told them with infinite weariness. "The last human being

commands."

 

* * * * *

 

He slept for a day and had breakfast in _full public view_ under a

tree. Peeping Toms of both sexes watched him.

 

Prime Center appeared in person just as he finished mopping up the last

of his once-over-lightly egg. Prime Center coughed and blushed and

looked away, and John Davis Drumstetter laughed aloud, humorlessly.

 

"Good morning," he said cheerfully.

 

"Hm, yes," said Prime Center.

 

"Sit down. Have an egg?" A wicked light appeared in his eyes, and he

went on in a low, sinister voice, "A coddled egg, soft and white and

runny? Maybe you want to gulp some coffee? Or snap your way through

a piece of crackling toast? No?" His guest was turning pale and

sick-looking. "Well, let me finish this bacon, and state your business."

 

He threw back his head and slipped the bacon into his mouth. Prime

Center shuddered.

 

"Scientist Drumstetter," he said, keeping his gaze fixed on the trunk

of the tree, "I have come to offer you all the worlds. Yes, the whole

Solar System, including the asteroids and Pluto. You will be more

powerful than Alexander or Caesar or Stalin or O'Toole. We will create

a new office--Prime _Squared_ Center--to rule the Solar System. Do you

mind not doing that?"

 

John Davis Drumstetter was licking his fingers thoughtfully. He nodded.

 

"Then you accept?"

 

"No, I'm through licking my fingers. I'll give you your answer on a

systemwide communication. Arrange it, pseudo-life, immediately."

 

As a concession to morality, John Davis Drumstetter agreed to step

into a molecular cleanup booth. When he came out again, he spoke to the

worlds and all the ships in space:

 

"My friends, from now on the blind will lead the blind. Moral obliquity

has triumphed and becomes common morality." He laughed and rubbed his

nose. "I'm sorry. I was speaking to an audience of one--myself. What

I want you billions to do is to continue your work, to maintain the

system as it now stands. Pseudo-life will be replaced with pseudo-life

till the end of time. It will be a static world. It will be a

nearly-as-good world. It will be a pleasant world by your standards.

I wish you to do this, and you must, of course, obey my command. My

purpose reaches a little beyond your natural inclination; this system

will serve as a fertile warning to any beings with intelligence who may

come after me.

 

"I will not be with you long, myself--"

 

"Suicide?" asked Prime Center hopefully.

 

"Alpha Centauri," said John Davis Drumstetter with a chuckle. "The

colonists left because they didn't like pseudo-life, either. Good-by to

you all."

 

He snapped off the communication, waved to the little group under

the tree, and entered the _Last Hope_. The entry port swung closed.

The force field glowed, and then the ship was gone, leaving behind a

whirlwind of dust.

 

"Alpha Centauri?" asked Monica Drake Lane.

 

"Following the others of his wild, unstable breed," said Scientist

Norcross.

 

"Easy come, easy go," the girl said, shrugging.

 

Prime Center had the last word. "Yes, and good riddance. Human beings have always been a nuisance."