shock of their good fortune; and the remainder, since my esteemed grandfather saw fit to further bless them with great beauty of form, wasted away through an overindulgence in erotic activity—deprived of these pleasures for so long, you see, they now hurled themselves into every sort of debauchery, and in such a violent and unbridled fashion, that within two years not one was left among the living. Well, there was an exception… but it’s hardly worth mentioning.”
“Go on, let’s hear it all!” cried Klapaucius, and I could tell that he was greatly troubled.
“If you insist… Two remained, actually. The first presented himself before my grandfather and pleaded on bended knee for the return of his hump. It seems that as a cripple he had lived comfortably enough on charity, but now had to work and was quite unaccustomed to it. What was worse, now that he was straightened, he kept bumping his head on door lintels…”
“And the second?” asked Klapaucius.
“The second was a prince who had been denied succession to the throne on acount of his deformity. In light of its sudden correction, his stepmother, to insure her own son’s position, had him poisoned…”
“I see… But still, you can work miracles, can’t you?” said Klapaucius, despair in his voice.
“Bestowing happiness by miracle is highly risky,” lectured the machine. “And who is to be the recipient of your miracle? An individual? But too much beauty undermines the marriage vows, too much knowledge leads to isolation, and too much wealth produces madness. No, I say, a thousand times no! Individuals it’s impossible to make happy, and civilizations—civilizations are not to be tampered with, for each must go its own way, progressing naturally from one level of development to the next and having only itself to thank for all the good and evil that accrues thereby. For us, at the Highest Possible Level, there is nothing left to do in this Universe, and to create another Universe, in my opinion, would be in extremely poor taste. Really, what would be the point of it? To exalt ourselves? A monstrous idea! For the sake, then, of those yet to be created? But how are we obligated to beings who don’t even exist? One can accomplish something only so long as one cannot accomplish everything. Otherwise it’s best to sit back and watch… And now, if you’ll kindly leave me in peace…”
“But wait!” I cried in alarm. “Surely there’s something you can give us, some way to improve the quality of life, if only a little! Some way to lend a helping hand! Remember the Golden Rule and Love Thy Neighbor!”
The machine sighed and said:
“My words fall on deaf ears, as usual. I should have dismissed you to begin with, like we did the last time… Oh, very well then, here’s a formula that hasn’t been tried. No good will come of it, you’ll see—but do with it what you will! All I wish now is to be left alone to meditate among my many theostats and deiodes…”
The voice faded away, the console lights dimmed, and we stood and read the card the machine had printed out for us. It went something like this:
ALTRUIZINE. A metapsychotropic transmitting agent effective for all sentient homoproteinates. The drug duplicates in others, within a radius of fifty yards, whatever sensations, emotions and mental states one may experience. Operates by telepathy, guaranteed however to respect one’s privacy of thought. Has no effect on either robots or plants. The sender’s feelings are amplified, the original signal being relayed back in turn by its receivers and thereby producing resonance, which is as a result directly proportional to the number of individuals situated in the vicinity. According to its discoverer, ALTRUIZINE will insure the untrammled reign of Brotherhood, Cooperation and Compassion in any society, since the neighbors of a happy man must share his happiness, and the happier he, the happier perforce they, so it is entirely in their own interest that they wish him nothing but the best. Should he suffer any hurt, they will rush to help at once, so as to spare themselves the pain induced by his. Neither walls, fences, hedges, nor any other obstacle will weaken the altruizing influence. The drug is water-soluble and may be administered through reservoirs, rivers, wells and the like. Tasteless and odorless. One millimicrogram serves for one hundred thousand individuals. We assume no responsibility for results at variance with the discoverer’s claims. Supplied by the Gnost. computerized representative of the Highest Poss. Lev. Devel.
Klapaucius was somewhat put off by the fact that Altruizine was only for humans, which meant that robots would have to continue to endure the misfortunes allotted to them in this world. I, however, made bold to remind him of the solidarity of all thinking beings and the necessity of aiding our organic brothers. Then there were practical matters to arrange, for we were agreed that the business of bestowing happiness was not to be postponed. So while Klapaucius had a subsection of the Gnostotron prepare a suitable quantity of the drug, I selected a geomorphic planet, one peopled by human types and no more than a fortnight’s journey off. As a benefactor, I wished to remain anonymous, therefore my distinguished mentor advised me, when going there, to assume the form of a man, which is no easy task, as you well know. Yet here too the great constructor overcame all difficulties, and soon I was ready to depart, a suitcase in either hand. One suitcase was filled with forty kilograms of Altruizine in a white powder, the other was packed with various toilet articles, pajamas, underwear, spare chins, noses, hair, eyes, and so forth. I went as a well-proportioned young man with a thin mustache and a forelock. Now Klapaucius had some doubt as to the advisability of applying Altruizine on such a large scale to begin with, and though I did not share his reservations, I did agree to test the formula first as soon as I landed on Terrania (for so was the planet called). Longing for the moment I could commence with the great sowing of universal peace and brotherhood, I bid a fond farewell to Klapaucius and hastened on my way.
In order to conduct the necessary test, I repaired, upon arrival, to a small hamlet where I took lodgings at an inn maintained by an aging and rather morose individual. As they carried my luggage from the carriage to the guest room, I contrived to drop a pinch of the powder into a nearby well. Meanwhile there was a great commotion in the front yard, scullery maids ran back and forth with pitchers of hot water, the innkeeper drove them on with curses, and then came the sound of hoofbeats, a chaise clattered up and an old man jumped out, clutching the black leather bag of a physician—his goal was not the house, however, but the barn, whence came the most doleful groans. As I learned from the chambermaid, a Terranian beast which belonged to the innkeeper—they called it a cow—was just now giving birth. This news troubled me: it had never occurred to me to consider the animal side of the question. But nothing could be done now, so I locked myself in and waited for events to unfold. Nor did I have long to wait. I was listening to the chain rattling in the well—they were still drawing water—when suddenly the cow gave another groan, which was echoed this time by several others. Immediately thereafter the veterinarian came running from the barn, howling and holding his stomach, and he was followed by the scullery maids and at last the innkeeper. Driven by the cow’s labor pains, they raised a great cry and fled in all directions —only to return at once, for the agony abated at a certain distance. Again and again they rushed the barn and each time were forced to retreat, doubled over with the beast’s contractions. Much chagrined by this unforeseen development, I realized now that the drug could be properly tested only in the city, where there were no animals. So I quickly packed my things and went to pay the bill. But as everyone about was quite incapacitated in birthing that calf, there was no one available with whom to settle accounts. I returned to my carriage, but finding both coachman and horses deep in labor, decided instead to proceed to the city on foot. I was crossing a small bridge when, as my ill fortune would have it, the suitcase slipped from my hand and fell in such a way, that it flew open and spilled my entire supply of powder into the stream below. I stood there dazed while the quick current carried off and dissolved all forty kilograms of Altruizine. But nothing could be done now— the die was cast, inasmuch as this stream happened to supply the entire city up ahead with its drinking water.
It was evening by the time I reached the city, the lights were lit, the streets were full of noise and people. I found a small hotel, a place to stay and observe the first signs of the drug taking effect, though as yet there seemed to be none. Weary after the day’s peregrination, I made straight for bed, but was awakened in the middle of the night by the most horrible screams. I threw off the covers and jumped up. My room was bright from the flames that were consuming the building opposite. Running out into the street, I stumbled over a corpse which was not yet cold. Nearby, six thugs held down an old man and, while he cried for help, yanked one tooth after another from his mouth with a pair of pliers— until a unanimous shout of triumph announced that finally they had succeeded in pulling the right one, the rotten root of which had been driving them wild, due to the metapsychotropic transmission. Leaving the toothless old man half-dead in the gutter, they walked off, greatly relieved.
Yet it was not this that had roused me from my slumber: the cause was an incident which had transpired in a tavern across the way. It seems some drunken weightlifter had punched his comrade in the face and, experiencing the blow forthwith, became enraged and set upon him in earnest. Meanwhile the other customers, no less affronted, joined in the fray, and the circle of mutual abuse soon grew to such proportions, that it awoke half the people at my hotel, who promptly armed themselves with canes, brooms and sticks, rushed out in their nightshirts
