"Let's find another bottle," I said.
He stepped back.
"You found them. You tested them. You killed them."
And the government man walked away and left me standing with a murderer.
* * * * *
You see it now, don't you, General?
What I'm carrying around on my back is guilt. Not guilt complex, not
guilt fixation, just plain old Abel-Cain _guilt_.
In this nice, well-ordered age I'm a killer and everybody knows it.
You see our mistake, General.
We sent men with variable amounts of loneliness. These amounts could
alter. But now we have a golden opportunity.
The _Evening Star_ is waiting and I have found for you a man with the
true measure of loneliness. It is impossible for this man to become any
more or any less lonely. It isn't the Ultimate Possible Loneliness,
understand that, General.
It's just that by himself or with others he is always in a crowd of
three, no more, no less.
The interstellar ship is waiting.
So tell me, General, have you ever seen a lonelier man than me, your
humble servitor, Dr. Thorn? No, I mean it. Have you?