Hanley sniffed it, then sipped it. He sighed.
«I’m dead,» he said. «This is usquebaugh, the nectar of the gods. There isn’t any such drink as this.» He drank deeply and it didn’t even burn his throat.
«What is it, Nine?» Three asked.
«A quite complex formula, fitted to his exact needs. It is fifty per-cent alcohol, forty-five per-cent water. The remaining ingredients, however, are considerable in number; they include every vitamin and mineral his system requires, in proper proportion and all tasteless. Then other ingredients in minute quantities to improve the taste—by his standards. It would taste horrible to us, even if we could drink either alcohol or water.»
Hanley sighed and drank deeply. He swayed a little. He looked at Three and grinned. «Now I know you aren’t there,» he said.
«What does he mean?» Nine asked Three.
«His thought processes seem completely illogical. I doubt if his species would make suitable slaves. But we’ll make sure, of course. What is your name, creature?»
«What’s in a name, pal?» Hanley asked. «Call me anything. You guys are my bes’ frien’s. You can take me anywhere and jus’ lemme know when we get Dar.»
He drank deeply and lay down on the floor. Strange sounds came from him but neither Three nor Nine could identify them as words. They sounded like «Zzzzzz, glup—Zzzzzz, glup—Zzzzzz, glup.» They tried to prod him awake and failed.
They observed him and made what tests they could. It wasn’t until hours later that he awoke. He sat up and stared at them. He said, «I don’t believe it. You aren’t here. For Gossake, give me a drink quick.»
They gave him the beaker again—Nine had replenished it and it was full. Hanley drank. He closed his eyes in bliss. He said, «Don’t wake me.»
«But you are awake.»
«Then don’t put me to sleep. Jus’ figured what this is. Ambrosia—stuff the gods drink.»
«Who are the gods?»
«There aren’t any. But this is what they drink. On Olympus.»
Three said, «Thought processes completely illogical.»
Hanley lifted the beaker. He said, «Here is here, and Dar is Dar and never the twain shall meet. Here’s to the twain.» He drank.
Three asked, «What is a twain?»
Hanley gave it thought. He said, «A twain is something that wuns on thwacks, and you wide on it from here to Dar.»
«What do you know about Dar?»
«Dar ain’t no such things as you are. But here’s to you, boys.» He drank again.
«Too stupid to be trained for anything except simple physical labor,» Three said. «But if he has sufficient stamina for that we can still recommend a raid in force upon this planet. There are probably three or four billion inhabitants. And we can use unskilled labor—three or four billion would help us considerably.»
«Hooray!» said Hanley.
«He does not seem to coordinate well,» Three said thoughtfully. «But perhaps his physical strength is considerable. Creature, what shall we call you?»
«Call me Al, boys.» Hanley was getting to his feet.
«Is that your name or your species? In either case is it the full designation?»
Hanley leaned against the wall. He considered. «Species,» he said. «Stands for—let’s make it Latin.» He made it Latin.
«We wish to test your stamina. Run back and forth from one side of this cube to the other until you become fatigued. Here, I will hold that beaker of your food.»
He took the beaker out of Hanley’s hands. Hanley grabbed for it. «One more drink. One more li’l drink. Then I’ll run for you. I’ll run for President.»
«Perhaps he needs it,» Three said. «Give it to him, Nine.»
It might be his last for awhile so Hanley took a long one. Then he waved cheerily at the four Darians who seemed to be looking at him. He said, «See you at the races, boys. All of you. An’ bet on me. Win, place an’ show. ’Nother li’l drink first?»
He had another little drink—really a short one this time—less than two ounces.
«Enough,» Three said. «Now run.»
Hanley took two steps and fell flat on his face. He rolled over on his back and lay there, a blissful smile on his face.
«Incredible!» Three said. «Perhaps he is attempting to fool us. Check him, Nine.»
Nine checked. «Incredible!» he said. «Indeed incredible after so little exertion but he is completely unconscious—unconscious to the degree of being insensible to pain. And he is not faking. His type is completely useless to Dar. Set the controls and we shall report back. And take him, according to our subsidiary orders, as a specimen for the zoological gardens. He’ll be worth having there. Physically he is the strangest specimen we have discovered on any of several million planets.»
Three wrapped himself around the controls and used both ends to manipulate mechanisms. A hundred and sixty-three thousand light years and 1,630 centuries passed, cancelling each other out so completely and perfectly that neither time nor distance seemed to have been traversed.
In the capital city of Dar, which rules thousands of useful planets, and has visited millions of useless ones—like Earth—Al Hanley occupies a large glass cage in a place of honor as a truly amazing specimen.
There is a pool in the middle of it, from which he drinks often and in which he has been known to bathe. It is filled with a constantly flowing supply of a beverage that is delicious beyond all deliciousness, that is to the best whiskey of Earth as the best whiskey of Earth is to bathtub gin made in a dirty bathtub. Moreover it is fortified—tastelessly—with every vitamin and mineral his metabolism requires.
It causes no hangovers or other unpleasant consequences. It is a drink as delightful to Hanley as the amazing conformation of Hanley is delightful to the frequenters of the zoo, who stare at him in bewilderment and then read the sign on his cage, which leads off in what looks to be Latin with the designation of his species as Al told it to Three and Nine:
ALCOHOLICUS ANONYMOUS
Lives on diet of C2H5OH, slightly fortified with vitamins and minerals. Occasionally brilliant but completely illogical. Extent of stamina—able to take only a few steps without falling. Utterly without value commercially but a fascinating specimen of the strangest form of life yet discovered in the Galaxy. Habitat—Planet 3 of Sun JX6547-HG908.
So strange, in fact, that they have given him a treatment that makes him practically immortal. And a good thing that is, because he’s so interesting as a zoological specimen that if he ever dies they might come back to Earth for another one. And they might happen to pick up you or me—and you or I, as the case might be, might happen to be sober. And that would be bad for all of us.
MILLENNIUM
Hades was hell, Satan thought; that was why he loved the place. He leaned forward across his gleaming desk and flicked the switch of the intercom.
«Yes, Sire,» said the voice of Lilith, his secretary.
«How many today?»
«Four of them. Shall I send one of them in?»
«Yes—wait. Any of them look as though he might be an unselfish one?»
«One of them does, I think. But so what, Sire? There’s one chance in billions of his making The Ultimate Wish.»
Even at the sound of those last words Satan shivered despite the heat. It was his most constant, almost his only worry that someday someone might make The Ultimate Wish, the ultimate, unselfish wish. And then it would happen; Satan would find himself chained for a thousand years, and out of business for the rest of eternity after that.