One by one Man fused with Lamy, each physical body losing its mental identity in a manner that was somehow not a loss but a gain.
Man's last mind paused before fusion, looking over a space that included nothing but the empty alcohol bottles, agitated randomly by the tag ends of heat wearing out, asymptotically, to the absolute zero.
Man said, "Lamy, is this the end? Can those bottles not be filled with the Alcohol once more? Can that not be done?"
Lamy said, "Does it really matter? Let's become one, Anon"
Man's last mind fused and only Lamy existed -- and that in hyperspace.
Matter and energy had ended and with it space and time. Even Lamy existed only for the sake of the one last bottle that she had never drunk from the time a half-drunken pirate ten trillion years before had given her.
All other bottles had been finished, and until this last bottle was consumed also, Lamy might not release her consciousness.
All collected sake had come to a final end. Nothing was left to be drunk.
But all collected bottles had yet to be completely correlated and put together in all possible relationships.
A timeless interval was spent in doing that.
And it came to pass that Lamy learned how to reverse the direction of entropy.
But there was now no man to whom Lamy might give the answer of the last question. No matter. The answer -- by demonstration -- would take care of that, too.
For another timeless interval, Lamy thought how best to do this. Carefully, Lamy organized the bottles.
The consciousness of Lamy encompassed all of what had once been a Universe and brooded over what was now Chaos. Step by step, it must be done.
And Lamy said, "LET THERE BE ALCOHOL!"
And there was alcohol --
