mise, he
would--and thankfully. There would be no electricity, of course, but he
had provided himself with flashlights and bulbs and batteries--not too
many of the last, of course, because they'd grow stale. However, he'd
also laid in plenty of candles and a vast supply of matches.... Tins of
food and concentrates and synthetics, packages of seed should he grow
tired of all these and want to try growing his own--fruit, he knew,
would be growing wild soon enough.... Vitamins and medicines--of course,
were he to get really ill or get hurt in some way, it might be the end
... but that was something he wouldn't think of--something that couldn't
possibly happen to him....

For his relaxation he had an antique hand-wound phonograph, together
with thousands of old-fashioned records. And then, of course, he had the
whole planet, the whole world to amuse him.

He even had provided himself with a heat-ray gun and a substantial
supply of ammunition, although he couldn't imagine himself ever killing
an animal for food. It was squeamishness that stood in his way rather
than any ethical considerations, although he did indeed believe that
every creature had the right to live. Nonetheless, there was the
possibility that the craving for fresh meat might change his mind for
him. Besides, although hostile animals had long been gone from this part
of the world--the only animals would be birds and squirrels and, farther
up the Hudson, rabbits and chipmunks and deer ... perhaps an occasional
bear in the mountains--who knew what harmless life form might become a
threat now that its development would be left unchecked?

A cat sitting atop one of the stately stone lions outside the library
met his eye with such a steady gaze of understanding, though not of
sympathy, that he found himself needing to repeat the by-now almost
magic phrase to himself: "Not in my lifetime anyway." Would some
intelligent life form develop to supplant man? Or would the planet
revert to a primeval state of mindless innocence? He would never know
and he didn't really care ... no point in speculating over unanswerable
questions.

He settled back luxuriously on the worn cushions of his car. Even so
little as twenty years before, it would have been impossible for
him--for anyone--to stop his vehicle in the middle of Forty-second
Street and Fifth Avenue purely to meditate. But it was his domain now.
He could go in the wrong direction on one-way streets, stop wherever he