des, after pondering for several days, the Red Bloc decided it
could not afford to fall behind in anything, so it started its own
program, explaining with much logic how it differed.

An elderly British philosopher endorsed the movement, on the grounds
that a temporary setback in Evolution was preferable to facing up to
anything.

The Free Bloc, the Red Bloc, the Neutral Bloc and such scraps as had
been too obtuse to find themselves a Bloc were drawn into the
whirlpool in an amazingly short time, if in a variety of ways. In less
than two years the world was rid of most of what had been bedeviling
it.

Oddly enough, the country where the movement began was the last to
succumb completely. Or perhaps it is not so odd. Coffin-maker to the
world, the American casket industry had by now almost completely
automated box-making and gravedigging, with some interesting assembly
lines and packaging arrangements; there still remained the jobs of
management and distribution. The President of General Mortuary, an
ebullient fellow affectionately called Sarcophagus Sam, put it well.
"As long as I have a single prospective customer, and a single
Stockholder," he said, mangling a stogie and beetling his brows at the
one reporter who'd showed up for the press conference, "I'll try to
put him in a coffin so I can pay him a dividend."

* * * * *

Finally, though, a man who thought he must be the last living human,
wandered contentedly about the city of Denver looking for the coffin
he liked best. He settled at last upon a rich mahogany number with
platinum trimmings, an Automatic Self-Adjusting Cadaver-contour
Innerspring Wearever-Plastic-Covered Mattress with a built in bar. He
climbed in, drew himself a generous slug of fine Scotch, giggled as
the mattress prodded him exploringly, closed his eyes and sighed in
solid comfort. Soft music played as the lid closed itself.

From a building nearby a turkey-buzzard swooped down, cawing in
raucous anger because it had let its attention wander for a moment. It
was too late. It clawed screaming at the solid cover, hissed in
frustration and finally gave up. It flapped into the air again, still
grumbling. It was tired of living on dead small rodents and coyotes.
It thought it would take a swing over to Los Angeles, where the
pickings were pretty good.

As it moved westward over parched hills, it espied two black dots a
few miles to its left. It circled over for