Captain Future 26 - Earthmen No More (March 1951) by Edmond Hamilton Read Free Book Online Page A

scientific passion still burned bright within him.
    “All right, Roger,” he said finally. “I’m willing to try it. But you will have to prepare the serum-case quickly, for I have not long to live.”
    The next few days were ones of frenziedly urgent preparation by the younger scientist. Only his powerful stimulants were keeping the dying old scientist alive.
    Newton prepared the square serum-case of transparent metal. At its center was a shock-proofed chamber molded to receive a human brain. A maze of artificial arteries led to this chamber to supply the living brain with a constant flow of serum which would furnish its cells nutritional elements and carry away fatigue-poisons.
    The serum was constantly circulated by a series of tiny, ingenious pumps inside the case. These forced the serum ceaselessly through purifying filters. The compact atomic motors of the pumps would run almost indefinitely without attention.
    Two “ears” that were really sensitive microphones were fixed to the sides of the serum-case. From them, electric wires ran to the brain-chamber. Similarly, Roger Newton mounted on the front of the case two photoelectric eyes with artificial retinas. They were fixed upon the ends of movable metal stalks so that the direction of gaze could be changed. Wires ran also from these to the central brain-chamber.
    The speech-apparatus was the most difficult. The production of intelligible speech by completely artificial means had been achieved in the so-called “voder,” far back in 1939. But to build such a device into small space and articulate its controls stretched all Roger Newton’s superb abilities.
     
    AIDED BY WRIGHT’S GENIUS
    The younger scientist could not have done all this, alone. It was the constant advice and aid of the dying Simon Wright that made possible completion of the serum-case, after four days and nights of toil.
    Roger Newton stumbled to the side of his dying friend on that fourth night. “It’s all ready, Simon — but I can’t do it tonight,” he husked. “My hands are too unsteady for the operation. I must sleep first.”
    Simon spoke as calmly as though of another person. “I will be dead before morning, if my self-diagnosis is correct. You must do it now.”
    “I can’t — I won’t!” cried Newton. “It would be murder.”
    He flung out of the room. But in a half-hour, he returned. His self-control had come back.
    “You are right, Simon. It must be now.”
    Roger Newton’s young wife served as his assistant as he prepared for the appalling task of lifting a man’s living brain from his skull and transferring it undamaged to the serum-case.
    Simon Wright lay upon the table in the laboratory and looked up at their pale faces with affection.
    “If you fail, this is goodbye,” he murmured. Then the anesthetic hissed into his nostrils and he knew nothing more.
     
    THE BRAIN AWAKES
    He awakened slowly. His first sensation was of a curious lightness and buoyancy. Then he heard sounds, oddly echoing.
    “Simon, can you hear me? Can you hear?” He tried to open his eyes. Light blinded him. His vision seemed to focus queerly.
    Then he saw Roger and Elaine Newton bending over him. There was awe in their faces.
    Simon realized the truth. The transformation had been accomplished. He was now a brain living in an artificial case. That accounted for his unusual feeling of lightness and buoyancy. He no longer had a dying, weakened body dragging at his mind.
    He attempted to speak. The effort of will actuated the controls of the little voder-device in his case. He heard his voice as a metallic, rasping monotone. “I — hear, Roger. Hard — form words — correctly —”
    And then, with a feeling of triumph, “My mind — clear, strong, now — we can go on with our — work.”
    He tested his new senses. He could hear with greater clarity than ever before. His eyes had perfect vision.
    Weeks went by, and Simon Wright felt more at home in his strange new body. The absence of