The footsteps of approaching death, he tears Flows, toss and turn for a long time would not die. Enlighten, comfort. His
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As the distant future, a scientist who comes to visit, said: "I'll try it."
A thick curtain shielding the outside light, the shadow of the future in front of the dying scientist asked: "There are several problems, you can truthfully answer?"
The dying nodded
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"Are you that there have been drugs act?"
"No."
"There drinking habits?"
"No."
"There smoking habits?"
"No."
Futurist sigh of relief, asked:
"Well, you did it in a friendly manner towards the natural
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"Done."
"Would you be curious of new things, and accept as much as possible?"
"Done."
"You are brave to do an honest living, not to suppress their own personality?"
"Done."
"Do you birth a child, his health?"
"I have a child 33 years of age, children
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Futurist abruptly stood up, respect and said: "In this space-time chain, you have completed the task of life! Predecessors put genes into your body, you properly protect it, a little to evolve it, It has successfully inherited. This is not everyone can do. you have nothing to regret, I respect the person? "
The dying sigh: "I do not have wealth, status, honor, ah ... ..."
Futurist, said: "It seems from the well-being of mankind in the future, these
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The dying softly: "... ... After all, I have not made any contribution, for example, technological innovation ... ..."
Futurist, said: "If this life is more substantial achievements, of course, no such enrichment achievements can not say no."
Some easing the dying despondent mood, he asked: "So, I do not live in vain?"
Futurology home a kind of Kuang Yuan said with a long and solemn tone: "You are the bows, your child is sent from the life of arrows on the bowstring. The shooting at the infinite in your fully to their lead with a full. In future, it Jifei of arrows, the bow still in love with it ... ...
"Some years later, your genes, it may open up that dream now can not imagine all the splendor of exotic flowers of life ... ..."
Like a breeze blowing from the sky, the dying face was uproar in the haze scatters. A kind of never had ever felt pleased emission from the bottom of my heart, quietly spread in the body, finally face full of tears Dangkai a smile,
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In this smile, the dying stopped breathing quietly.