The Better Man

She Was Lovely and graceful and serene, but it wouldn't have mattered if she were none of these. All that mattered was that she was female. And that mattered very much, indeed, for she was said to be the last woman.

As such, she was the hope of the earth, a prize to be fought over. Her two suitors—the last of their sex—stood now in the twilight of their world, prepared to duel to the death. The winner would become a new Adam, in an Eden of ashes and rubble.

"Put away your weapons," she said. "There has been enough dying. Let us decide by reason which of you is the better man."

"My name is John," said the one who limped and was bald, "and I am the better man. It is true that I am no kid, as they say, and my sight is no longer what it should be, and I am deaf in one ear, and I seem to have developed this cough, and my teeth are false, and I really cannot say to what extent my genes may be affected by radiation, but I am educated, skilled in many crafts and, I hope, wise with the experience of .my years."

"Thank you, John," she said sweetly. "And you, young man?"

"My name is Nine," said the other one, who was tall and handsome, "and I am not a man at all. My full name is Nine Four Six Three Seven, decimal, Zero Zero Five Two Eight. I am an android. But I am the better man."

John laughed. "Better man! A thing of plastic bones and chemical blood and artificial flesh? Ridiculous!"

She asked, "Why do you say you are the better man, Nine?"

(concluded on page 163) Better Man (continued from page 67)

Nine cleared his throat. "I won't bore you with the history of robots and androids," he began.

"Please don't," John interjected.

"But I'm sure both of you are aware," Nine continued, "of the refinements that have gone into the manufacture of androids during the past few centuries?"

John shrugged. "Eyes that work like eyes instead of like television cameras."

"Hair and nails that grow," she said.

"Waste-disposal systems like our own," John grunted, and gallantly added, "Excuse me, miss."

"Laughter," she said. "Tears." And she smiled.

Nine smiled back at her. "That's right," he said. "As we were made more efficient, we naturally were made more human, because the human body and brain are still the most efficient machines there are. You might almost say that, while you folks were becoming more and more false-toothed and nose-jobbed and bustplastied, and more and more warped and mutated by radiation, more and more dehumanized, we androids were becoming more and more human. Kind of ironic."

"Very," said John, stifling a yawn.

Nine said, "The point being, John, that you're getting old and infirm, while this body of mine—ersatz though it may be—will last another hundred years or so, with care. I'm stronger than you, also, and have better sight and hearing and quicker reflexes, all of which will be vital in building the new world. So you see," he concluded, spreading his hands, "there's no contest."

Smugly, John said, "You're forgetting one thing."

"No, I'm not," said Nine. "We androids used to be put together in laboratories and on assembly lines, I grant you, but not anymore. Too expensive. It's not generally known (fear of public opinion), but for quite a while now it's been cheaper and simpler for androids to be so constructed that we can reproduce ourselves. In fact, it's been proven in certain top-secret lab experiments that, theoretically at least, we can even, er, intermarry with humans."

John spluttered and stammered, "But that's—indecent and—unheard of and—you mean mate? Produce offspring? A human and an android? That's absurd!"

"It is, isn't it?" reflected Nine. "But it's also true."

Their beautiful prize looked long at the handsome, muscular Nine, then turned to the squinting, coughing John. "He's right, I'm afraid, John," she said, sorrowfully. "He is the better ... man."

John sighed but said nothing. He crept slowly away, into the jagged shadows. In a few moments, they heard a single shot and the sound of a frail body crumpling to the ground.

"Poor John," she said. "I felt so sorry for him."

"So did I," said Nine, "but that's life." He led her toward the hovel that would be their home. "You know," he said, "I was really afraid John's education and skill and wisdom and all that might tip the scales in his favor ..."

"It did, almost."

"Yes, I could tell. That's why I made up that little fib about being an android. My name's not Nine, it's Bill, and I'm one hundred percent human."

"Just as I thought," said John triumphantly, emerging from the shadows. "Not only a liar but stupid as well. Stupid enough to be taken in by my simple sound effects a moment ago." John turned to the lovely object of their rivalry. "Is this the kind of mate you deserve, my dear? A man without principles? A muscle-bound clod both morally corrupt and mentally deficient? Is he indeed the better man?"

She wavered, but for only an instant. "No, John. The father of the new race should be a man of honor and intelligence. You are the better man."

John turned to Bill. "In the absence of judges and juries, I take it upon myself to pronounce sentence upon you for mendacity, opacity, and crimes to future humanity. The sentence is death." John shot Bill through the head, and the younger suitor fell, lifeless.

"Now, wife," said John, with a gleam in his eye, "let us not waste any more precious time in getting that new race started. I am, admittedly, neither as young nor as handsome as the late Bill, but I think you'll find there is life in the old boy yet."

"Are you an android, by any chance?" she asked.

John said, "It just so happens that Bill was entirely correct about the, er, compatibility of humans and androids. I put up a fuss about it only because I didn't want to lose you. So, actually, it wouldn't make any difference if I were an android. However, I assure you I am quite human, if it matters."

She smiled prettily and took his arm. "How nice," she said. "If it matters, I'm not." And silenced his expression of surprise with an admirably genuine kiss.