hoped that it would swell the fruit on the trees of a less
figurative orchard.
Such was the life and death of the great Professor de Laix, a man
for whom someday almost came.
How the Humans Finally Learned to Like Themselves
It is man's peculiar distinction to love even those who err.
--Marcus Aurelius, VII.22
A sweet disorder in the dress.
--Herrick
Once upon a time, many years from now, technology had continued its
remarkable progress to the point that the construction of artificial
people had finally become possible. These humakins, as they were
called, were made so carefully and with such art that no one could
tell the difference between a real human and an artificial
one--except that the artificial ones were flawless. Physically the
humakins were always young, always beautiful, always fresh; they
never had a hair out of place, never a pimple, never a wrinkle,
never a gray hair. Mentally they were always bright, alert, and
smiling; they always got their facts right, and never took a wrong
turn or got lost.
At first the appeal of the humakins was irresistible, and most
humans chose them over other humans for spouses. What human female
could compete with an always slim, beautiful, and lively imitation?
And what human male could compete with an always confident, correct,
and handsome construction? In fact, the word "humakin" quickly
became a synonym for "perfect," as in, "That's a really humakin
car," or "This pie tastes just humakin." At the same time the word
"human" became a term of opprobrium, indicating something defective
or of low quality, as in, "I never shop there because it's such a
human store with human-quality merchandise."
To the consternation of many, however, while the humakins could
construct more of themselves in a factory, the humans could produce
more of themselves only by following the ancient method of their
ancestors, so that the result of the marriages between flesh and
plastic was the eventual decline of the human race.
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