That was crazy. Nobody could be—nobody could be the last— But there was nobody. Except him. So, it followed: therefore—ergo: logically, if there was nobody, and if.... God, it was dark. God, it was quiet. And if.... If you laugh you'll go crazy. If you don't laugh, if you don't laugh, if you—hell, only one dose of barbiturate left in the First Aid stores ... big thing, hard to swallow ... and if there's nobody left, then.... Sleep. He hadn't touched the UHF in three months, but he'd left it on regardless of the power drain just in case. He had divided the hours off into sleeping and eating periods, and he had just slept, and just eaten, and he'd shaved, and put on a fresh uniform. He had knotted the tie perfectly; his collar insignia were shined and pinned in place without a single wrinkle. He had it figured out. He could die of oxygen, if not food, starvation in five more months, three and one-half more days. And that would be the end of it. The hell it would! Who the hell did they think they were to do this to him.... But he had his computers. He had his reference-tapes. He had his refractor and his scanners, and his star-charts, and his store of fuel for orbital correction (ninety percent of which remained, because it had been an almost perfect shot) and he had his brains. If you threw a stone off the rear of a moving train at a speed less than the train's speed forward, the stone would of course leave the train, but in relation to the ground would still be travelling in the train's direction.
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