"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: