isaac asimov the last question read online

The Voice said, “This is no place as you understand place.” He heard his own voice, quite recognisable, and his own words, infinitely clear. He tried, mouthlessly, to hum words or breathe them or just push them out by a contraction of – something.Īnd they came out. It was in Murray’s mind to say something, but he was not conscious of possessing a mouth, tongue, or vocal chords. The Voice said, “I have done this so often and yet I still have the capacity to be pleased at success.” There was no lessening of the peace even though in all the Universe only he remained – and the Voice. I’m going to Heaven.Įven as he thought that, the light faded, but the warmth remained. Darkness was invading his consciousness and off in a distance, as a last glimmer of sight, there was a figure of light, vaguely human in form, and radiating warmth. He thought: There should be some angel – or something – coming for me.

He thought: Miracle of miracles! The life-after-life nuts were right.Īnd although that was a humiliating way for an atheistic physicist to die, he felt only the mildest surprise, and no alteration of the peace in which he was immersed. He was down there, sprawled, face contorted. Now, with the pain gone, the others were still hovering, still anxious, still gathered about his fallen body –– Which, he suddenly realised, he was looking down on. He had been in the laboratory when the pain had struck, quite without warning, and when he had staggered, he had heard surprised outcries from the others before everything vanished into overwhelming agony. He opened his eyes and noted with distant amusement that the others in the room were still agitated. Murray felt an almost giddy lightness as though he were lifting in the air and hovering. There is no pleasure like the absence of pain – immediately after pain. He could feel his breath slowing and a kind of gathering peace washing over him. The pain had come suddenly, had mounted to an unbearable peak, and had then ebbed steadily. Murray Templeton was forty-five years old, in the prime of life, and with all parts of his body in perfect working order except for certain key portions of his coronary arteries, but that was enough.

Isaac asimov the last question read online