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ROBERT A. HEINLEIN. BEYOND THIS HORIZON

“What has this to do with me?”

“It will have. The data from Deaf Smith County was seized on by the contemporary technicians-medicine men, they called them-as a solution for the problem. Duplicate the diet of the Deaf Smithians-no more caries. They were perfectly right and biologically quite wrong, for an advantage is no good to a race unless it can be inherited. The clue was there, but they used it the wrong way. What we looked for finally were men and women who had perfect teeth despite poor diet and lack of attention. In time it was proved that all such cases had a group of three genes, previously uncharted. Call it a favorable mutation. Or call the susceptibility to tooth decay an unfavorable mutation which didn’t quite kill off the race.

“My predecessors conserved this particular gene group. You know how inheritance fans out; go back enough generations and all of us are descended from the whole population. But, genetically, our teeth are descended from one small group-because we selected to preserve that dominant. What we want to do with you; Felix, is to conserve the favorable variations present in you until the whole race has your advantages. You won’t be the only ancestor of coming generations-oh, no! — but you will be, genetically, the ancestor of them all in the respects in which you are superior to the majority.”

“You’ve picked the wrong man. I’m a failure.”

“Don’t tell me that, Felix. I know your chart. I know you better than you know yourself. You are a survivor type. I could set you down on an island peopled by howling savages and dangerous animals-in two weeks you would own the place.”

Hamilton grudged a smile. “Maybe so. I’d like to try it.”

“We don’t need to try it. I know! You’ve got the physique and the mentality and the temperament. What’s your sleep ration?”

“Around four hours.”

“Fatigue index?”

“It runs around a hundred and twenty-five hours, maybe more.”

“Reflex?”

Hamilton shrugged.. Mordan suddenly whipped his sidearm clear, aimed it at Hamilton. Hamilton had his own out and had Mordan covered at appreciably the same instant. He returned it at once. Mordan laughed and replaced his own. “I was in no danger,” he declared. “I knew that you could draw, evaluate the situation, and decide not to fire, before a slower man would see that anything was going on.”

“You took a long chance,” Hamilton complained.

“Not at all. I know your chart. I counted not only on your motor reactions, but your intelligence. Felix, your intelligence rating entitles you to the term genius even in these days.”

There followed a long silence. Mordan broke it. “Well?”

“You’ve said all you have to say?”

“For the moment.”

“Very well, then, I’ll speak my piece. You haven’t said anything that convinces me. I wasn’t aware that you planners took such an interest in my germ plasm, but you didn’t tell me anything else that I did not already know. My answer is ‘No’ — ”

“But — ”

“My turn-Claude. I’ll tell you why. Conceding that I am a superior survival type-I don’t argue that; it’s true. I’m smart and I’m able and I know it. Even so, I know of no reason why the human race should survive…other than the fact that their make-up insures that they will. But there’s no sense to the whole bloody show. There’s no point to being alive at all. I’m damned if I’ll contribute to continuing the comedy.”

He paused. Mordan waited, then said slowly, “Don’t you enjoy life, Felix?”

“I certainly do,” Hamilton answered emphatically. “I’ve got a twisted sense of humor, and everything amuses me.”

“Then isn’t life worth living for itself alone?”

“It is for me. I intend to live as long as I can and I expect to enjoy most of it. But do most people enjoy life? I doubt it. As near as I can tell from outward appearances it’s about fourteen to one against it.”

“Outward appearances may be deceiving. I am inclined to think that most people are happy.”

“Prove it!”

Mordan smiled. “You’ve got me. We can measure most things about the make-up of a man, but we’ve never been able to measure that. However-don’t you expect your own descendants to inherit your zest for living?”

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Categories: Heinlein, Robert
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