"I — suppose so."

"Then I argue that our own individuality is due to our falling short of perfection. All of us — even van Manderpootz — are individuals only because we are not perfect. Were we perfect, each of us would be exactly like everyone else. True?"

"Uh — yes."

"But Heaven, by definition, is a place where all is perfect. Therefore, in Heaven everybody is exactly like everybody else, and therefore, everybody is thoroughly and completely bored! There is no torture like boredom, Dixon, and — Well, have I proved my point?"

I was floored. "But — about anarchy, then?" I stammered.

"Simple. Very simple for van Manderpootz. See here; with a perfect nation — that is, one whose individuals are all exactly alike, which I have just proved to constitute perfection — with a perfect nation, I repeat, laws and government are utterly superfluous. If everybody reacts to stimuli in the same way, laws are quite useless, obviously. If, for instance, a certain event occurred that might lead to a declaration of war, why, everybody in such a nation would vote for war at the same instant. Therefore government is unnecessary, and therefore anarchy is the ideal government, since it is the proper government for a perfect race." He paused. "I shall now prove that anarchy is not the ideal government — "

"Never mind!" I begged. "Who am I to argue with van Manderpootz? But is that the whole purpose of this dizzy robot? Just a basis for logic?" The mechanism replied with its usual rasp as it leaped toward some vagrant car beyond the window.

"Isn't that enough?" growled van Manderpootz. "However," — his voice dropped — "I have even a greater destiny in mind. My boy, van Manderpootz has solved the riddle of the universe!" He paused impressively. "Well, why don't you say something?"