Laurence Janifer - The Neander Ifrit

Says Dave: My son shall be the leader of all leaders-of-leaders-of-leaders and shall rule over all humanity, and his seed after him, as long as humanity shall exist.

And says the genie: It is so, and it is done. That is a wish of some size, and I do not mind saying that its fulfillment cost me no little exertion and indeed a fair amount of eldritch cunning; but it is done, and you shall be content. And now, says the genie, if you’ll hand me that container I’ll be on my way, and if I am lucky I will not have to be granting any more wishes for a few millions of years, because it can get to be a terrible strain, this taking orders like a waiter from all these newcomers upon the Earth.

And Dave handed him his extended-circle of a container that wouldn’t break or bend, and the genie went out the way lightning disappears, leaving a bright stain on Dave’s eyes for a few seconds, and far out in the Arabian Gulf Dave saw a splash and figured that the container was seaborne out there somewhere.

Heading, I am driven to suppose—and after a good deal more time, to be sure—for Aladdin.

Now, all this is strange enough, Stan, but it is not the end of the story. The end of the story is a praiseful, even worshipful description of Dave’s son, Dave the Leader-and-then-some.

It is a description of a Cro-Magnon man.

Stanley Schmidt was editor of Analog Science Fiction and Fact at the time of this story’s publication. (Note of scanner)