Tom is captured by mad scientist Dr. Kraus, who plans to extract his brain using a deadly machine to achieve eternal life. As the machine powers up, Kraus’s assistant Morgan rebels; both perish in the ensuing confrontation. Tom escapes using a concealed blade, and Morgan’s final act destroys equipment sustaining another victim’s brain, freeing the soul.
The doctor twisted his lips into another smile. “I can see, my friens,” he said, “dat you do not understand the unnecessary phenomenon ve call death. You see, my friens, the human body iss so complex dat death iss usually caused by disorganization. The body fails to vork any longer as a whole, so ve call it dead. But the individual parts of the body do not die for perhaps days—und den of starvation. I merely removed hiss brain and placed it here, exactly as it iss placed in its own head—do you see, my friens?”
Quick as a flash, Tom saw his chance and leaped through the air. His right arm circle like a snake around the doctor’s head, and his left hand seized the German’s right wrist. The Luger spat fire in staccato thunder, but the sudden rush bore the man to the floor with a crash, and Tom had wriggled to a safe position.
With the anguish of defeat staring him in the face, he strained every muscle in his body. Slowly, slowly the man’s arm raised itself off the floor, higher and higher it came, and then, with a sudden powerful movement, twitched itself free from Tom’s weakening hold.
CRASH!
Millions of flickering lights danced for a moment in the moon, and a great darkness settled upon Tom’s mind.
When Tim finally came to, he found himself strapped firmly to a table in another room. His head was bursting with pain. Slowly he opened his eyes and found himself looking at a positive mass of black shiny machinery, studded with dials and indicators.
Over his head hung two great bluish lamps, which gave off a weird eerie glow in the darkness of the room. Only one light was burning—shaded—to his left, and there he began to dimly perceive the doctor and the man called Morgan, busy at a table. Their backs were turned towards him, and, as his head cleared somewhat, he tried his bonds.
He was strapped to his table with heavy buckled straps, one tightly binding his feet, the other preventing any movement of his arms and chest. Only his head was free to move. With horror he discovered the table to which he was fastened was an operating table.
The doctor turned and noticed that Tom was awake. He strode over to him and stood by his side, watching him with a vicious grin.
“So, my friens! You haff come oud off your sleep. Vot a pity!” The doctor made his chuckling noise again. “I had tought dat you vould miss it by not coming to in time, but now, of course, you shall know vot I propose to do.” He laughed.
Tom strained at his bonds.
“Let me go, I say!”
“My friens, you are most ungracious. I plan to giff you eternal life und you are not happy. Ah, vell, ve shall proceed, anyhow. The men who do the most for mankind are the least appreciated, alvays.”
The doctor rubbed his hand over his jaws, surveying him as a cat surveys a helpless mouse. From the depths of his cavernous chest there came a slow rumbling sound. Gradually it increased and burst past his lips as a peal upon peal of mocking laughter. In the background, Morgan was watching his master, his face expressionless. Under that terrible roar, Tom felt his hope slipping from him through his fingers. The doctor stopped abruptly, and waved a long knife in his left hand.
“Listen,” he whispered. “Listen to your companion!”
Tom shuddered. Faintly to his ears came the horrible clicking sound. A mind in agony. A mind without a body. A voice from the dead.
At the expression engraved upon Tom’s face, the German burst into another roar. “My friens,” he said as he finally controlled himself and wiped away tears from his eyes, “my friens, do you see dose blue lamps over your head?”
Tom’s eyes wandered to the eerie blue globes. He closed them, quickly.
The doctor continued. “Dat is anodder of my leedle toys. Presently I shall press dis svitch, here, und dat light vill grow brighter und brighter. Und dis dial her, look!” Tom opened his eyes and looked at a large white dial. “Ven dis indicator reaches 180, from dose lamps vill steam a flood of ossianic electrons, whose reaction to bone iss most disastrous—to bone, dat iss. Odder tissue iss impervious to its attack.”
Kraus paused and chuckled as though at some good joke.
“You see, my friens, it iss a great help to me to be able to reduce the bone to pulp. It iss so much easier to get at the brain.”
The doctor turned to his assistant.
“Morgan, are you ready?”
A grunt was his only response.
Kraus then reached to the wall before Tom’s horrified eyes and turned on the switch. Instantly there was a dull humming sound which grew louder and louder until in a few seconds it was a mighty sobbing vibration. The room fairly shook.
The doctor stood alongside the table to which Tom was fastened, watching his facial expressions with great satisfaction. Tom was struggling to free himself, as he watched the indicator on the dial move slowly but steadily to forty. At the same time the blue lights over his head were growing brighter and brighter, casting an unearthly glow throughout the entire room. The doctor had to shout to make himself understood.
“Soon, my friens, it vill be all over.” Tom could hear his crazy laugh above the roar of the machines. “Den you vill join your friens out dere, forever. Two minds, living forever. My leedle playtings!” Kraus was actually shouting now, frenziedly. The indicator was moving past the hundred mark.
“Vhy do you look so frightened, my friens? Vhy do you struggle so hard? Soon you will be eternal. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
The doctor paused suddenly and leaned over to Tom’s agonized face. Almost in his ear he spoke. “You can amuse me by talking to your companion—” he leered, hideously, “und den, perhaps, if you do not amuse me, den I can shut off the switch.”
He paid no attention to the curses evoked by this fiendish thought, and turned to Morgan. The indicator was up to 140 now.
“Morgan,” he barked, “haff you got the container ready?”
Morgan simply looked at him and made no reply.
“Morgan! The container!”
Suddenly Morgan’s face moved in an expression of utter disgust. He stepped forward, his entire body tense; his head thrown high.
“No!” He shrieked the word, frenziedly.
The doctor seemed stunned. He hesitated a moment, looking at his assistant searchingly. Then his face became evil with a hideous snarl. His hand snatched up the long knife laying on the table. With eyes that reflected the glassiness of approaching death, Tom noticed that the indicator had reached 160.
Then above the buzzing roar of the machines he heard that awful laugh of Kraus. The crazed scientist was screaching. “Hah! You tought I didn’t know you vas betraying me, eh? You tought I didn’t know about the radio message, yah? But I do! Und you shall die!”
Slowly he approached the defenceless Morgan, waving his knife. Morgan backed against the table, and crouched there for a moment, watching his approach. Then, without warning, he lurched heavily forward and pinned the doctor against the wall.
Then Tom saw again that awful strength come into play; saw again that grim duel he had fought, reenacted. Slowly the doctor began to move his knife hand upwards, slowly, slowly it came—then with a wrench he was free, holding Morgan against the wall with the knife at his throat.
The blue lights were now vivid gleams of searing color. The indicator had moved past 170. Tom groaned, as the sweat ran in torrents down his neck. It was all over now.
But was it? Suddenly he remembered Terry’s ring. Frantically he twisted it about on his finger and pushed the lever. Up sprang the two little blades of razor sharpness. With a strength born of utter anguish Tom twisted his hand backwards to the strap binding his arms and body. His finger moved twice, thrice—again, and with a sudden lurch he tore the strap in two and sat up on the table, tearing at the buckle on his feet. Even as he did so Kraus screamed:
“Morgan, you fool! I’ll show you who’s master here! You die, dog.”
Prefacing his action with a great bellowing laugh, he lifted the knife high in the air and brought it down on his assistant’s chest, burying it to the hilt. A shrill scream tore through the sobbing of motors and Morgan slumped in the doctor’s grasp, blood bubbling from his nose and mouth.
The doctor jerked him to a standing position against the wall and lifted the knife again.
At that moment a hand of iron grabbed his wrist and spun it around. Tom had succeeded in freeing himself. Morgan flopped to the floor. For a split second the two men stood face to face, righteous anger facing the madness of a lunatic.
Thud.
Only the vibration of the blow was perceptible above the racket as Tom flailed outwards with his fist.
The crazed scientist reeled backwards.
At that very moment a great crackling noise bellowed forth, and to Tom’s utter horror a sudden ray of crimson light poured down upon the man. He seemed to slowly melt under the light, falling inwards upon himself, growing smaller and more compact, until balance was lost and the entire shapeless mass that had been Kraus settled quiveringly upon the floor. His head had become an almost liquid mass of flesh.
Tom threw his hands before his eyes to shut out the vision that had almost blasted them. He reeled against the wall, and stood there for a few moments, unsteadily. Then he opened his eyes.
“Stay where you are.”
Tom could make out the words only by reading the lips and sighting the revolver held by Morgan. The assistant was crawling toward the door to the other room, bubbles and streams of scarlet issuing from his mouth. His face reflected his anguish. Tom stood still, watching the man in his horrible creeping and choking. He reached the door and pushed it open. Suddenly he raised his revolver.
“Bang!”
And he fell forward on his face, smoke curling from the muzzle of his weapon. Tom rushed to the door. On the table in the other room lay a mass of shattered wax and an indefinite gray pulp. The telegraph key was silent. Terry was at peace at last. Morgan had made his atonement.
Originally Published: Ace Publishing, BEYOND #4, May 1951
Read by ElevenLabs (Daniel Voice)
