DESTINY UNCERTAIN By Rog Phillips Is Fate a robot typing out the destiny of the world? Lin knew it was true so with his own future at stake--he stole a page from history! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy May 1952 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "I'm never going to take my last breath," Lin said with a gloating tone that implied some deep secret. He waited until his remark had had its full dramatic moment, then added, "I'm simply going to take my next to last breath and hold it." Jerry Myer's voice emerged from the wave of laughter, serious. "But there does often seem to be something predestined about death. Even seemingly accidental death." He shuddered. "There were five hundred and sixty-nine traffic deaths last Labor Day weekend. I wonder how those victims would have felt if they had been told, say, a week before they died? And been unable to avoid it, no matter what they did?" "Nonsense!" Phil Arnoff said. "What about surgery, serums, and safety devices? They get demonstrable results in saving lives. A man has an enlarged aorta. Ten years ago he would have been a goner. Today he has an operation. They transplant a section of the aorta of a dead person, and he lives another twenty years." Jerry sighed. "You're getting into a meaningless argument. It could be answered that destiny brought the operation into the realm of actuality to save him _because it wasn't his time to die_. There's a lot of evidence to support predestination. Some of the oldest of philosophies and religions are based on it. _It is written_ is a concept as old as man." "And maybe as mistaken as the ancient belief in a god of thunder," Lin scoffed. "And maybe not," Jerry said. "You read a book. Unless you cheat and look at the ending first it's like life. Unpredictable. But you _can_ skip to the end and see how it will come out, and then start in at the beginning and read with that knowledge. And when you again reach the end it's still the same, because it was already written and unchangeable when you began reading the first page. Sometimes I think real life is like that." Phil and Lin winked at each other. Then Phil said, "Let's suppose that's true for the moment. Who does the writing?" Jerry shrugged. "What difference would that make? There's the old tale of the Fates as weavers, weaving a cloth that becomes the events of men's lives as it is woven. And there's another one I heard once, or read someplace...." "What's that?" Lin prodded.