ying on his bunk ruining his
beady eyes on the micro-viewer, I've been asking myself significant
questions. Question number one: What kind of person does it take to
survive the inactivity and boredom of three, four, maybe six months in
a space can like this? Answer: It takes a highly trained and
conditioned person such as yours truly or yourself. Arnold is obviously
not such a person."

"Obviously."

"Question number two: Under what circumstances can a person as
obviously intelligent as Arnold manage not to become a highly
specialized member of society? And last, what kind of person can be so
revoltingly unspecialized as to know, with fanatical certainty, that
the main ingredient of a good potato fertilizer is ammonium nitrate;
that such a substance is rather ineffective as an explosive unless you
mix it with a good oxidizable material, such as Diesel fuel; that a
four-square mile chunk of rock is 'brittle'--"

"And don't forget to add another nice facet--that he's a lot cleverer
in the manly art of self-defense than you'll ever be."

"I acknowledge my humiliation and at the same time repeat my question:
What kind of person can be so unspecialized and at the same time so
miserably competent?"

"I give up. Do you really know the answer?"

"I know this. I know that whoever he is, it makes good sense to send
somebody like him along with two overspecialized robots like us. Look
at us. You couldn't pull a cotter pin with a pair of pliers if you knew
what a cotter pin was. As for myself, if I'd of gotten that gun away
from Arnold, I'm not even sure I'd have known how to fire it."

"Which still doesn't answer any questions."

"There are still a hundred places on our primitive homeland that
provide the answer," said Harcraft thoughtfully. "Places where men
spend half the year working with vegetables and fertilizer--"

"And the other half breaking rock with a sledge hammer?"

"Yes. And there's probably no better place than a cell to train for the
isolation of space."

"Uh-huh. It also explains a certain familiarity with makeshift
explosives and weapons."

"And, brother Bean Brain," summed up Harcraft wistfully. "What better
place in the universe to find asylum from specialization."

THE END

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Unspecialist, by Murray F. Yaco

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNSPECIALIST ***

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