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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7206c2d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51295 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51295) diff --git a/old/51295-h.zip b/old/51295-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 54cb815..0000000 --- a/old/51295-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51295-h/51295-h.htm b/old/51295-h/51295-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 13eff69..0000000 --- a/old/51295-h/51295-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2384 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Man Who Was Six, by F. 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Wallace. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man Who Was Six, by F. L. Wallace - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Man Who Was Six - -Author: F. L. Wallace - -Release Date: February 24, 2016 [EBook #51295] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WHO WAS SIX *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="404" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>The Man Who Was Six</h1> - -<p>By F. L. WALLACE</p> - -<p>Illustrated by ASHMAN</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Science Fiction September 1954.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>There is nothing at all like having a sound<br /> -mind in a sound body, but Dan Merrol had too<br /> -much of one—and also too much of the other!</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Sorry, darling," said Erica. She yawned, added, "I've tried—but I -just can't believe you're my husband."</p> - -<p>He felt his own yawn slip off his face. "What do you mean? What am I -doing here then?"</p> - -<p>"Can't you remember?" Her laughter tinkled as she pushed him away and -sat up. "They said you were Dan Merrol at the hospital, but they must -have been wrong."</p> - -<p>"Hospitals don't make that kind of mistake," he said with a certainty -he didn't altogether feel.</p> - -<p>"But <i>I</i> should know, shouldn't I?"</p> - -<p>"Of course, but...." He did some verbal backstepping. "It was a -bad accident. You've got to expect that I won't be quite the same -at first." He sat up. "<i>Look</i> at me. Can't you tell who I am?" She -returned his gaze, then swayed toward him. He decided that she was -highly attractive—but surely he ought to have known that long ago.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>With a visible effort she leaned away from him. "Your left eye does -look familiar," she said cautiously. "The brown one, I mean."</p> - -<p>"The <i>brown</i> one?"</p> - -<p>"Your other eye's green," she told him.</p> - -<p>"Of course—a replacement. I told you it was a serious accident. They -had to use whatever was handy."</p> - -<p>"I suppose so—but shouldn't they have tried to stick to the original -color scheme?"</p> - -<p>"It's a little thing," he said. "I'm lucky to be alive." He took her -hand. "I believe I can convince you I'm <i>me</i>."</p> - -<p>"I wish you could." Her voice was low and sad and he couldn't guess why.</p> - -<p>"My name is Dan Merrol."</p> - -<p>"They told you that at the hospital."</p> - -<p>They hadn't—he'd read it on the chart. But he had been alone in the -room and the name had to be his, and anyway he <i>felt</i> like Dan Merrol. -"Your name is Erica."</p> - -<p>"They told you that too."</p> - -<p>She was wrong again, but it was probably wiser not to tell her how he -knew. No one had said anything to him in the hospital. He hadn't given -them a chance. He had awakened in a room and hadn't wanted to be alone. -He'd got up and read the chart and searched dizzily through the closet. -Clothes were hanging there and he'd put them on and muttered her name -to himself. He'd sat down to gain strength and after a while he'd -walked out and no one had stopped him.</p> - -<p>It was night when he left the hospital and the next thing he remembered -was her face as he looked through the door. Her name hadn't been on the -chart nor her address and yet he had found her. That proved something, -didn't it? "How could I forget you?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>"You may have known someone else with that name. When were we married?"</p> - -<p>Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital. It would have been easier -to convince her there. But he'd been frantic to get home. "It was quite -a smashup," he said. "You'll have to expect some lapses."</p> - -<p>"I'm making allowances. But can't you tell me something about myself?"</p> - -<p>He thought—and couldn't. He wasn't doing so well. "Another lapse," -he said gloomily and then brightened. "But I can tell you lots about -myself. For instance, I'm a specialist in lepidoptera."</p> - -<p>"What's that?"</p> - -<p>"At the moment, who knows? Anyway, I'm a well-known actor and a -musician and a first-rate mathematician. I can't remember any equations -offhand except C equals pi R squared. It has to do with the velocity -of light. And the rest of the stuff will come back in time." It was -easier now that he'd started and he went on rapidly. "I'm thirty-three -and after making a lot of money wrestling, married six girls, not -necessarily in this order—Lucille, Louise, Carolyn, Katherine, Shirley -and Miriam." That was quite a few marriages—maybe it was thoughtless -of him to have mentioned them. No woman approves her predecessors.</p> - -<p>"That's six. Where do I come in?"</p> - -<p>"Erica. You're the seventh and best." It was just too many, now that he -thought of it, and it didn't seem right.</p> - -<p>She sighed and drew away. "That was a lucky guess on your age."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Did that mean he wasn't right on anything else? From the expression -on her face, it did. "You've got to expect me to be confused in the -beginning. Can't you really tell who I am?"</p> - -<p>"I <i>can't</i>! You don't have the same personality at all." She glanced at -her arm. There was a bruise on it.</p> - -<p>"Did I do that?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"You did, though I'm sure you didn't mean to. I don't think you -realized how strong you were. Dan was always too gentle—he must have -been afraid of me. And <i>you</i> weren't at all."</p> - -<p>"Maybe I was impetuous," he said. "But it was such a long time."</p> - -<p>"Almost three months. But most of that time you were floating in -gelatin in the regrowth tank, unconscious until yesterday." She -leaned forward and caressed his cheek. "Everything seems wrong, no -matter how hard I try to believe otherwise. You don't have the same -personality—you can't remember anything."</p> - -<p>"And I have one brown eye and one green."</p> - -<p>"It's not just that, darling. Go over to the mirror."</p> - -<p>He had been seriously injured and he was still weak from the shock. He -got up and walked unsteadily to the mirror. "Now what?"</p> - -<p>"Stand beside it. Do you see the line?" Erica pointed to the glass.</p> - -<p>He did—it was a mark level with his chin. "What does it mean?"</p> - -<p>"That should be the top of Dan Merrol's head," she said softly.</p> - -<p>He was a good six inches taller than he ought to be. But there must be -some explanation for the added height. He glanced down at his legs. -They were the same length from hip bone to the soles of his feet, but -the proportions differed from one side to the other. His knees didn't -match. <i>Be-dum, be-dum, be-dumdum, but your knees don't match</i>—the -snatch of an ancient song floated through his head.</p> - -<p>Quickly, he scanned himself. It was the same elsewhere. The upper right -arm was massive, too big for the shoulder it merged with. And the -forearm, while long, was slender. He blinked and looked again. While -they were patching him up, did they really think he needed black, red -and brown hair? He wondered how a beagle felt.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>What were they, a bunch of humorists? Did they, for comic effect, piece -together a body out of bits and scraps left over from a chopping block? -It was himself he was looking at, otherwise he'd say the results were -neither hideous nor horrible, but merely—well, what? Ludicrous and -laughable—and there were complications in that too. Who wants to be -an involuntary clown, a physical buffoon that Mother Nature hadn't -duplicated since Man began?</p> - -<p>He felt the stubble on his face with his left hand—he <i>thought</i> it -was his left hand—at least it was on that side. The emerging whiskers -didn't feel like anything he remembered. Wait a minute—was it <i>his</i> -memory? He leaned against the wall and nearly fell down. The length of -that arm was unexpectedly different.</p> - -<p>He hobbled over to a chair and sat down, staring miserably at Erica as -she began dressing. There was quite a contrast between the loveliness -of her body and the circus comedy of his own.</p> - -<p>"Difficult, isn't it?" she said, tugging her bra together and closing -the last snap, which took considerable effort. She was a small girl -generally, though not around the chest.</p> - -<p>It was difficult and in addition to his physique there were the -memories he couldn't account for. Come to think of it, he must have -been awfully busy to have so many careers in such a short time—<i>and</i> -all those wives too.</p> - -<p>Erica came close and leaned comfortingly against him, but he wasn't -comforted. "I waited till I was sure. I didn't want to upset you."</p> - -<p>He wasn't as sure as she seemed to be now. Somehow, maybe he was still -Dan Merrol—but he wasn't going to insist on it—not after looking at -himself. Not after trying to sort out those damned memories.</p> - -<p>She was too kind, pretending to be a little attracted to him, to the -scrambled face, to the mismatched lumps and limbs and shapes that, -stretching the term, currently formed his body. It was clear what he -had to do.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The jacket he had worn last night didn't fit. Erica cut off the sleeve -that hung far over his fingertips on one side and basted it to the -sleeve that ended well above his wrist, on the other. The shoulders -were narrow, but the material would stretch and after shrugging around -in it, he managed to expand it so it was not too tight.</p> - -<p>The trousers were also a problem—six inches short with no material -to add on, but here again Erica proved equal to the task and, using -the cuffs, contrived to lengthen them. Shoes were another difficulty. -For one foot the size was not bad, but he could almost step out of the -other shoe. When she wasn't looking, he wadded up a spare sock and -stuffed it in the toe.</p> - -<p>He looked critically at himself in the mirror. Dressed, his total -effect was better than he had dared hope it would be. True, he did look -<i>different</i>.</p> - -<p>Erica gazed at him with melancholy affection. "I can't understand why -they let you out wearing those clothes—or for that matter, why they -let you out at all."</p> - -<p>He must have given some explanation as he'd stumbled through the door. -What was it?</p> - -<p>"When I brought the clothes yesterday, they told me I couldn't see you -for a day or so," she mused aloud. "It was the first time you'd been -out of the regrowth tank—where no one could see you—and they didn't -know the clothes wouldn't fit. You were covered with a sheet, sleeping, -I think. They let me peek in and I could make out a corner of your -face."</p> - -<p>It was the clothes, plus the brief glimpse of his face, which had made -her think she recognized him when he came in.</p> - -<p>"They told me you'd have to have psychotherapy and I'd have to have -orientation before I could see you. That's why I was so surprised when -you rang the bell."</p> - -<p>His head was churning with ideas, trying to sort them out. Part of last -night was dim, part sharp and satisfying.</p> - -<p>"What's Wysocki's theorem?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"<i>Whose</i> theorem?"</p> - -<p>"Wysocki's. I started to call the hospital and you wouldn't let me, -because of the theorem. You said you'd explain it this morning." She -glanced at the bruise on her arm.</p> - -<p>It was then he'd grabbed her, to keep her from talking to the hospital. -He'd been unnecessarily rough, but that could be ascribed to lack of -coordination. She could have been terrified, might have resisted—but -she hadn't. At that time, she must have half-believed he was Dan -Merrol, still dangerously near the edges of post-regrowth shock.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She was looking at him, waiting for that explanation. He shook his -mind frantically and the words came out. "Self-therapy," he said -briskly. "The patient alone understands what he needs." She started to -interrupt, but he shook his head and went on blithely. "That's the -first corollary of the theorem. The second is that there are critical -times in the recovery of the patient. At such times, with the least -possible supervision, he should be encouraged to make his own decisions -and carry them through by himself, even though running a slight risk of -physical complications."</p> - -<p>"That's new, isn't it?" she said. "I always thought they watched the -patient carefully."</p> - -<p>It ought to be new—he'd just invented it. "You know how rapidly -medical practices change," he said quickly. "Anyway, when they -examined me last night, I was much stronger than they expected—so, -when I wanted to come home, they let me. It's their latest belief that -initiative is more important than perfect health."</p> - -<p>"Strange," she muttered. "But you are very strong." She looked at him -and blushed. "Initiative, certainly you have. Dan could use some, -wherever he is."</p> - -<p>Dan again, whether it was himself or another person. For a brief time, -as she listened to him, he'd had the silly idea that.... But it could -never happen to him. He'd better leave now while she was distracted and -bewildered and believed what he was saying. "I've got to go. I'm due -back," he told her.</p> - -<p>"Not before you eat," she said. "Any man who's spent the night with me -is hungry in the morning."</p> - -<p>It was a domestic miracle that amidst all the pressing and fitting, -she'd somehow prepared breakfast and he hadn't noticed. It was a simple -chore with the automatics, but to him it seemed a proof of her wifely -skill.</p> - -<p>He wanted to protest, but didn't. Maybe it was the hand she was -holding—it seemed to be equipped with a better set of nerves than its -predecessor. It tingled at her touch. Sadly, he sat down and looked at -his food. Eat? Did he want to eat? Oddly enough, he did.</p> - -<p>"How much do you remember of the accident?" She shoved aside her own -food and sat watching him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Not a thing, now that she asked. In fact, there wasn't much he did -remember. There had been the chart at his bed-side, with one word -scrawled on it—<i>accident</i>—and that was where he'd got the idea. There -had been other marks too, but he hadn't been able to decipher them. He -nodded and said nothing and she took it as he thought she would.</p> - -<p>"It wasn't anybody's fault. The warning devices which were supposed to -work didn't," she began. "A Moon ship collided with a Mars liner in -the upper atmosphere. The ships broke up in several parts and since -they are compartmented and the delay rockets switched on immediately, -the separate parts fell rather gently, considering how high they were. -Casualties weren't as great as you might think.</p> - -<p>"Parts of the two ships fell together, the rest were scattered. There -was some interchange of passengers in the wreckage, but since you were -found in the control compartment of the Mars liner, they assumed you -were the pilot. They never let me see you until yesterday and then -it was just a glimpse. I took their word when they said you were Dan -Merrol."</p> - -<p>At least he knew who or what Dan Merrol was—the pilot of the Mars -liner. They had assumed he was the pilot because of where he was found, -but he might have been tossed there—impact did strange things.</p> - -<p>Dan Merrol was a spaceship pilot and he hadn't included it among his -skills. It was strange that she had believed him at all. But now that -it was out in the open, he did remember some facts about spaceships. He -felt he could manage a takeoff at this instant.</p> - -<p>But why hadn't he told her? Shock? Perhaps—but where had those other -identities come from—lepidopterist, musician, actor, mathematician -and wrestler? And where had he got memories of wives, slender and -passionate, petite and wild, casual and complaisant, nagging and -insecure?</p> - -<p>Erica he didn't remember at all, save from last night, and what was -that due to?</p> - -<p>"What are you going to do?" he asked, deliberately toying with the last -bite of breakfast. It gave him time to think.</p> - -<p>"They said they'd identified everyone, living or dead, and I supposed -they had. After seeing you, I can believe they made any number of -similar mistakes. Dan Merrol may be alive under another name. It will -be hard to do, but I must try to find him. Some of the accident victims -went to other hospitals, you know, the ones located nearest where they -fell."</p> - -<p>Even if he was sure, he didn't know whether he could tell her—and he -wasn't sure any longer, although he had been. On the physical side of -marriage, how could he ask her to share a body she'd have to laugh at? -Later, he might tell her, if there was to be a 'later.' He pushed back -his chair and looked at her uncertainly.</p> - -<p>"Let me call a 'copter," she said. "I hate to see you go."</p> - -<p>"Wysocki's theorem," he told her. "The patient has decided to walk." -He weaved toward the door and twisted the knob. He turned in time to -catch her in his arms.</p> - -<p>"I know this is wrong," she said, pressing against him.</p> - -<p>It might be wrong, but it was very pleasant, though he did guess her -motives. She was a warmhearted girl and couldn't help pitying him. -"Don't be so damned considerate," he mumbled.</p> - -<p>"You'll have to put me down," she said, averting her eyes. -"Otherwise.... You're an intolerable funny man."</p> - -<p>He knew it—he could see himself in the mirror. He was something to -laugh at when anyone got tired of pretending sympathy. He put her down -and stumbled out. He thought he could hear the bed creak as she threw -herself on it.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3">II</p> - -<p>Once he got started, walking wasn't hard. His left side swung at a -different rate from his right, but that was due to the variation in -the length of his thighs and lower legs, and the two rhythms could be -reconciled. He swept along, gaining control of his muscles. He became -aware that he was whizzing past everyone.</p> - -<p>He slowed down—he didn't want to attract attention. It was difficult -but he learned to walk at a pedestrian pace. However poorly they'd -matched his legs, they'd given him good ones.</p> - -<p>Last night, on an impulse, he'd left the hospital and now he had to go -back. <i>Had</i> to? Of course. There were too many uncertainties still to -be settled. He glanced around. It was still very early in the morning -and normal traffic was just beginning. Maybe they hadn't missed him -yet, though it was unlikely.</p> - -<p>He seemed to know the route well enough and covered the distance in a -brief time. He turned in at the building and, scanning the directory, -went at once to the proper floor and stopped at the desk.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The receptionist was busy with the drawer of the desk. "Can I help -you?" she asked, continuing to peer down.</p> - -<p>"The director—Doctor Crander. I don't have an appointment."</p> - -<p>"Then the director can't see you." The girl looked up and her firmly -polite expression became a grimace of barely suppressed laughter.</p> - -<p>Then laughter was swept away. What replaced it he couldn't say, but it -didn't seem related to humor. She placed her hand near his but it went -astray and got tangled with his fingers. "I just thought of a joke," -she murmured. "Please don't think that I consider you at all funny."</p> - -<p>The hell she didn't—and it was the second time within the hour a woman -had used that word on him. He wished they'd stop. He took back his -hand, the slender one, an exquisite thing that might once have belonged -to a musician. Was there an instrument played with one hand? The other -one was far larger and clumsier, more suited to mayhem than music. -"When can I see the director?"</p> - -<p>She blinked at him. "A patient?" She didn't need to look twice to see -that he had been one. "The director does occasionally see ex-patients."</p> - -<p>He watched her appreciatively as she went inside. The way she walked, -you'd think she had a special audience. Presently the door opened and -she came back, batting her eyes vigorously.</p> - -<p>"You can go in now," she said huskily. Strange, her voice had dropped -an octave in less than a minute. "The old boy tried to pretend he was -in the middle of a grave emergency."</p> - -<p>On his way in, he miscalculated, or she did, and he brushed against -her. The touch was pleasant, but not thrilling. That reaction seemed -reserved for Erica.</p> - -<p>"Glad to see you," said Doctor Crander, behind the desk. He was nervous -and harassed for so early in the morning. "The receptionist didn't give -me your name. For some reason she seems upset."</p> - -<p>She did at that, he thought—probably bewildered by his appearance. The -hospital didn't seem to have a calming influence on either her or the -doctor. "That's why I came here. I'm not sure who I am. I thought I was -Dan Merrol."</p> - -<p>Doctor Crander tried to fight his way through the desk. Being a little -wider and solider, though not by much, the desk won. He contented -himself by wiping his forehead. "Our missing patient," he said, sighing -with vast relief. "For a while I had visions of...." He then decided -that visions were nothing a medical man should place much faith in.</p> - -<p>"Then I <i>am</i> Dan Merrol?"</p> - -<p>The doctor came cautiously around the desk this time. "Of course. I -didn't expect that you'd come walking in my office—that's why I didn't -recognize you immediately." He exhaled peevishly. "Where did you go? -We've been searching for you everywhere."</p> - -<p>It seemed wiser to Dan not to tell him everything. "It was stuffy -inside. I went out for a stroll before the nurse came in."</p> - -<p>Crander frowned, his nervousness rapidly disappearing. "Then it was -about an hour ago. We didn't think you could walk at all so soon, or we -would have kept someone on duty through the night."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They had underestimated him, but he didn't mind. Of course, he didn't -know how a patient from the regrowth tanks was supposed to act. -The doctor took his pulse. "Seems fine," he said, surprised. "Sit -down—please sit down."</p> - -<p>Without waiting for him to comply, Crander pushed him into a chair and -began hauling out a variety of instruments with which he poked about -his bewildered patient.</p> - -<p>Finally Crander seemed satisfied. "Excellent," he said. "If I didn't -know better, I'd say you were almost fully recovered. A week ago, we -considered removing you from the regrowth tank. Our decision to leave -you there an extra week has paid off very, very nicely."</p> - -<p>Merrol wasn't as pleased as the doctor appeared to be. "Granted you can -identify me as the person who came out of regrowth—but does that mean -I'm Dan Merrol? Could there be a mistake?"</p> - -<p>Crander eyed him clinically. "We don't ordinarily do this—but it is -evident that with you peace of mind is more important than procedure. -And you look well enough to stand the physical strain."</p> - -<p>He pressed the buzzer and an angular woman in her early forties -answered. "Miss Jerrems, the Dan Merrol file."</p> - -<p>Miss Jerrems flashed a glance of open adoration at the doctor and -before she could reel it in, her gaze swept past Dan, hesitated and -returned to him. Her mouth opened and closed like that of a nervous -goldfish and she darted from the room.</p> - -<p><i>They see me and flee as fast as they can caper</i>, thought Merrol. It -was not wholly true—Crander didn't seem much affected. But he was a -doctor and used to it. Furthermore, he probably had room for only one -emotion at the moment—relief at the return of his patient.</p> - -<p>Miss Jerrems came back, wheeling a large cart. Dan was surprised at the -mass of records. Crander noticed his expression and smiled. "You're -our prize case, Merrol. I've never heard of anyone else surviving -such extensive surgery. Naturally, we have a step-by-step account of -everything we did."</p> - -<p>He turned to the woman. "You may leave, Miss Jerrems." She went, but -the adoration she had showed so openly for her employer seemed to have -curdled in the last few moments.</p> - -<p>Crander dug into the files and rooted out photographs. "Here are -pictures of the wreckage in which you were found—notice that you were -strapped in your seat—as you were received into the hospital—at -various stages in surgery and finally, some taken from the files of the -company for which you worked."</p> - -<p>Merrol winced. The photographic sequence was incontrovertible. He had -been a handsome fellow.</p> - -<p>"Here is other evidence you may not have heard of. It's a recent -development, within the last ten years, in fact. It still isn't -accepted by most courts—they're always lagging—but to medical men -it's the last word."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Merrol studied the patterns of waves and lines and splotches. "What is -it?"</p> - -<p>"Mass-cell radiographs. One was loaned by your employer. The other was -taken just after your last operation. Both were corrected according -to standard methods. One cell won't do it, ten yield an uncertain -identity—but as few as a hundred cells from any part of the original -body, excepting the blood, constitute proof more positive than -fingerprints before the surgical exchange of limbs. Don't ask me -why—no one knows. But it is true that cells differ from one body to -the next, and this test detects the difference."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="600" height="369" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The mass-cell radiographs did seem identical and Dr. Crander seemed -certain. Taken altogether, the evidence was overwhelming. There had -been no mistake—he was Dan Merrol, though it was not difficult to -understand why Erica couldn't believe he was her husband.</p> - -<p>"You did a fine job," he said. Recalling the picture of the wreckage, -he knew they had. "But couldn't you have done just a little better?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Crander's eyebrows bounced up. "We're amazed at how well we have -done. You can search case histories and find nothing comparable." His -eyebrows dropped back into place. "Of course, if you have a specific -complaint...."</p> - -<p>"Nothing specific. But look at this hand...."</p> - -<p>The doctor seized it. "Beautiful, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps—taken by itself." Dan rolled up his sleeve. "See how it joins -the forearm."</p> - -<p>Crander waggled it gravely. "It coordinates perfectly. I've observed -you have complete control over it. The doctor's eye, my boy. The -doctor's diagnostic eye."</p> - -<p>The other just didn't understand. "But the size—it doesn't match my -arm!"</p> - -<p>"Doesn't <i>match</i>?" cried the doctor. "Do you have any idea of the -biological ways in which it <i>does</i> match? True, it may not be -esthetically harmonized, but here we delve into the mysteries of the -human organism, and we can hardly be striving for Botticelli bodies and -Michelangelo men. First, your hand moves freely at the joint, a triumph -of surgical skill." He moved the hand experimentally, to show Merrol -how it was done. He dropped the hand and hurried to a screen against -the wall.</p> - -<p>Crander drew his finger across the surface and the mark remained. "You -know about Rh positive and negative blood. Mixed, they can be lethal. -This was discovered long ago, by someone I've forgotten. But there are -other factors just as potent and far more complex."</p> - -<p>He scribbled meaningless symbols on the screen with his finger. "Take -the bone factors—three. They must be matched in even such a slight -contact as a joint ... this was done. Then there are the tissue -factors—four. Tendon factors—two. Nerve-splice factors—three -again. After that, we move into a complex field, hormone-utilization -factors—seven at the latest count and more coming up with further -research.</p> - -<p>"That's the beginning, but at the sensory organs we leave the simple -stuff behind. Take the eye, for instance." Merrol leaned away because -Dr. Crander seemed about to pluck one of Dan's eyes from its socket. -"Surgical and growth factors involved in splicing a massive nerve -bundle pass any layman's comprehension. There are no non-technical -terms to describe it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was just as well—Merrol didn't want a lecture. He extended his -arms. One was of normal length, the other longer. "Do you think you can -do something with this? I don't mind variation in thickness—some of -that will smooth out as I exercise—but I'd like them the same length."</p> - -<p>"There were many others injured at the same time, you know—and you -were one of the last to be extricated from the ship. Normally, when -we have to replace a whole arm, we do so at the shoulder for obvious -reasons. But the previously treated victims had depleted our supplies. -Some needed only a hand and we gave them just that, others a hand and -a forearm, and so on. When we got to you, we had to use leftovers or -permit you to die—there wasn't time to send to other hospitals. In -fact there wasn't any time at all—we actually thought you were dead, -but soon found we were wrong."</p> - -<p>Crander stared at a crack in the ceiling. "Further recovery will take -other operations and your nervous system isn't up to it." He shook his -head. "Five years from now, we can help you, not before."</p> - -<p>Merrol turned away miserably. There were other things, but he had -learned the essentials. He was Dan Merrol and there was nothing they -could do for him until it was too late. How long could he expect Erica -to wait?</p> - -<p>The doctor hadn't finished the medical session. "Replacement of body -parts is easy, after all. The big trouble came when we went into the -brain."</p> - -<p>"Brain?" Dan was startled.</p> - -<p>"How hard do you think your skull is?" Crander came closer. "Bend your -head."</p> - -<p>Merrol obeyed and could feel the doctor's forefinger slice across his -scalp in a mock operation. "This sector was crushed." Roughly half his -brain, it appeared. "That's why so many memories were gone—not just -from shock. In addition, other sectors were damaged and had to be -replaced."</p> - -<p>Crander traced out five areas he could feel, but not see. "Samuel -Kaufman, musician—Breed Mannly, cowboy actor—George Elkins, -lepidopterist—Duke DeCaesares, wrestler—and Ben Eisenberg, -mathematician, went into the places I tapped."</p> - -<p>Dan raised his head. Some things were clearer. The memories were -authentic, but they weren't his—nor did the other wives belong to him. -It was no wonder Erica had cringed at their names.</p> - -<p>"These donors were dead, but you can be thankful we had parts of their -brains available." Crander delved into the file and came up with a -sheet.</p> - -<p>"Here are some body part contributors." He read rapidly. "Dimwiddie, -Barton, Colton, Morton, Flam and Carnera were responsible for arms and -hands. Greenberg, Rochefault, Gonzalez, Tall-Cloud, Gowraddy and Tsin -supplied feet and legs."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He was not a man, Merrol thought. Not now. If anything, he was a -convention and one body was not a large enough hotel to hold it in -comfort.</p> - -<p>"These were the major human donors, but there were others I didn't -bother to read, for the kidneys and so on. And I think our four-footed -friends deserve some mention." He looked up. "The skin on your face is -from a pig embryo."</p> - -<p>That explained why it was hard to shave. "<i>Oink?</i>" he said. "I mean did -it have to be a pig?"</p> - -<p>"You'd be surprised how hard it is to transplant human skin," commented -Crander. "Besides, we wanted to give you a masculine look. The finest -face there is, genuine pigskin."</p> - -<p>Merrol felt like a wallet.</p> - -<p>The doctor droned on through the list, but Merrol scarcely listened. -Only once did he interrupt, to ask incredulously, "Did you say a -<i>horse</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Is there anything wrong with a horse?"</p> - -<p>Merrol thought back. Come to consider it, there was nothing wrong—in -fact, compliments were more in order.</p> - -<p>"The skill that went into matching the unrelated parts that are now -you is a landmark in medical history, quite comparable to Harvey's -discovery of the circulation of the blood," said Dr. Crander. "I -wouldn't believe it if I hadn't participated in it myself. There have -been limb and brain replacements before, but never on such a scale. One -of these days, we'll get out a report that will astound the medical -world."</p> - -<p>Without doubt, it would. Merrol tried to feel grateful, but gratitude -refused to come. They had saved him—but was it worth it?</p> - -<p>Puzzled, Crander frowned at the buzzer. He'd been pressing it -intermittently for the past few minutes. "Doesn't seem to be working," -he muttered, heading toward the door through which Merrol had entered. -"Wait here—I'll be back. I have to cancel an appointment."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As soon as the door closed, a voice behind Merrol hissed. "I fixed the -buzzer. He went for the guards."</p> - -<p>He whirled. Miss Jerrems stood in the doorway that led into the filing -room on the opposite side of the office. "Guards?" he repeated.</p> - -<p>"Of course—guards for the violent patients."</p> - -<p>"What does that have to do with me?"</p> - -<p>"You escaped once, didn't you?"</p> - -<p>He hadn't escaped, he had merely walked out when he felt he could. Did -that qualify him as violent? It might. "What of it? I'm no longer a -patient. The doctor said I had recovered."</p> - -<p>"That's what he said to <i>you</i>. But even if he means it, there's always -psychotherapy, post-re-growth orientation."</p> - -<p>Orientation—he hadn't thought of that. They'd want to keep him under -observation for several days and he had no desire to stay hospitalized. -Erica would come to the hospital in a few hours. Perhaps she was there -now, waiting to see someone. Come to think of it, he had got past the -receptionist with remarkable ease. At any rate, if she was insistent -about it, she must eventually get to see the evidence he had just -studied.</p> - -<p>And then there would be orientation—for both of them.</p> - -<p>Without doubt, he would be taught to accept himself as he was, and -Erica would be trained to look at him without laughter, and together -they would know that beneath his piebald exterior lurked a lovely -personality. Then, well adjusted, they would go home and live happily -ever after. Or would they?</p> - -<p>"Don't stand there, if you want to get away," Miss Jerrems whispered -urgently. "Next time they won't take any chances."</p> - -<p>They wouldn't. He would be confined to a room he couldn't break out of -with guards disguised as nurses. Blindly he moved toward the door.</p> - -<p>"Not there," she exclaimed. "Do you want to walk right into them? This -way. They won't look for you in here." She clasped his hand in her bony -fingers and led him through the maze of files to an elevator. "This -takes you to the ground floor," she said. "Once outside, you can get -away."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="581" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He probably could—it was a large building and it would take a -prolonged search to determine that he was not inside it.</p> - -<p>She smiled peculiarly, clearing her throat. "Thirty-seven Brighton -Drive."</p> - -<p>Mechanically he repeated the number. "What is it?"</p> - -<p>"That's where you can find out."</p> - -<p>"Find out what?"</p> - -<p>"What they did to you here. I can't tell you now," she whispered -nervously. "Oh, <i>do</i> hurry!"</p> - -<p>If he had to move fast, this seemed a good time. The elevator dropped -him to the street level and, looking cautiously around, he walked out. -In a few minutes, he was blocks away. It was mid-morning, and he swung -along, hands thrust into his jacket. There was a wad of paper inside -and he fished it out and examined it—money, neatly folded with a note -around it.</p> - -<p>The note was from Erica, saying that the money was meant for him. The -sum was not great, but she must have given him everything she had in -the house. Mistily, he counted it out.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3">III</p> - -<p>Dan hadn't been stopped and didn't expect to be. He wasn't a criminal, -but until the hospital released him, he was technically a mental case. -But Crander would hardly be anxious to report to the police that a -patient was missing—not until he had tried everything else.</p> - -<p>Merrol took the elevator. It was a bright new apartment building, which -conferred some social status and not much else on those living in it.</p> - -<p>Miss Jerrems opened the door. "Come in," she said, looking around -furtively as he slipped past her.</p> - -<p>He sat down gingerly, watching her scurry about. He tried to protest, -but nothing he said had any effect on her aggressive hospitality. -She thrust a cup of watery coffee in his hand and placed a tray of -breakfast rolls beside him.</p> - -<p>She sat facing him. Their knees almost touched—it was a narrow room. -"I came home at once," she said, not very successful in her attempt to -control her excitement. "I told them I was upset and, after my long -years of service, they didn't question me. I tore my dress and told -them you had done it. I said that you ran up toward the top of the -building."</p> - -<p>He appreciated her motives, but thought she shouldn't have tried so -hard to convince them. Now they had reason to think he was violent.</p> - -<p>"Until today, I've been devoted to Doctor Crander," she said sternly.</p> - -<p>He recalled the first look on her face in the doctor's office—and the -one after she had seen him. In seconds, her whole attitude had changed. -Why?</p> - -<p>"I heard what he told you." She hissed the word—"Lies."</p> - -<p>Dan stared at her skeptically. "They didn't do what he said?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, the facts were straight enough," she said bitterly. "It was the -reasons he concealed. They thought you didn't have a chance, so they -did all sorts of strange things they never tried on anyone else. You -were an experiment, that's all—but you surprised them."</p> - -<p>The hospital was looking for the wrong mental case. They had one -working for them and didn't know it. He didn't doubt that she was -right—about his being an experiment—but her observations were wrong. -It was due entirely to their unorthodox procedures that he was alive.</p> - -<p>She looked him over carefully and he knew that the halves of his face -didn't match by a ridiculous margin, that one shoulder was heavier than -the other, that his hair was in three colors. Even in repose and fully -clothed, so that some of the discrepancies of his physique were hidden, -he was hardly presentable.</p> - -<p>"When I saw you standing there today, I realized what they had done to -you and my loyalty to the institution and the doctor vanished," she -said earnestly. "And the psychotherapy isn't to help you, it's to make -sure you won't protest over what they've done. That's why I had to get -you away. They've ruined you and now <i>you</i> must ruin <i>them</i>."</p> - -<p>He had half-suspected it would come to this—but he hadn't been sure. -"I don't want to ruin them," he said slowly. "I'd rather be alive, even -as an experiment. And if you're thinking of a malpractice suit, you saw -the files. I couldn't win against that."</p> - -<p>"I ought to know about the files—I worked on them." Her eyes sparkled -and her voice lowered. "What if the evidence is missing?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He sat back. With her co-operation, the vital parts of the file could -vanish and, with that gone, he could collect a staggering amount from -the institution. He had only to appear and no jury or panels of experts -would decide against him. Is that what she had planned so swiftly -in the director's office—that she would share the money with him? -Somehow, he couldn't believe money meant that much to her. "I can't -permit it," he said. "In spite of everything, I feel obligated."</p> - -<p>She flung herself across the narrow space. "I expected you to be -noble," she sobbed. "One look at you, and I knew I had met the -loneliest person in the world."</p> - -<p>Like called to like, at least for her, and that explained why she had -grimaced when she had first seen him. It was her counterpart of the -receptionist's reaction. It explained, too, why she was willing to turn -against the doctor she had previously adored. As for the money, she -didn't want it for herself, but as bait for him—and he'd have to take -her with it.</p> - -<p>She had guessed wrong on all counts. He would have thrust her away, but -it would have been too cruel. He tried to comfort her, and she dried -her eyes on his shoulder. "Darling," she sniffled. "I've never yielded -to any man, but if it will help you...."</p> - -<p>She pressed close and he couldn't get away without breaking through -the thin walls of the cramped apartment. He had never known a female -form could be shaped around so many bones. "These things take time," he -said, though they didn't. "Let's not rush into anything we'll regret." -He seemed to arouse the motherly instinct in some women, if only in the -future tense.</p> - -<p>Presently, she sat up, blowing her nose and looking ardently at him -through tear-rimmed eyes. "You can stay here. You've no place else to -go, and they'll be looking for you."</p> - -<p>"Well," he said—but it was true. He shouldn't be wandering on the -streets.</p> - -<p>He slept that night on a sink that converted to a bed. It would have -been more comfortable unconverted.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He crept out in the morning before she was awake. He paused outside -to scribble a note, principally to throw her off his track. You never -could tell with so unstable a person. Implicated in his escape, she -might nevertheless report to the hospital. He shoved the note under the -door and left quickly and quietly.</p> - -<p>His first move was to buy a hat, which entailed further trouble. The -doctors had overcompensated in replacing the missing brain tissue and, -in piecing a skull together, had constructed an outsized head on which -nothing seemed to fit. By careful shopping, he found something that did -fit and, when he'd clapped it on, he happily noted it concealed the -tricolor hair ... one item less to attract attention.</p> - -<p>He ate and afterward walked to the rocketport. It was a long distance -and formerly he might have complained, but now he didn't mind it. The -miles seemed to have shrunk to furlongs.</p> - -<p>He found the big <i>Interplanet</i> sign and examined the place minutely -from the outside. Once he had worked there, technically he still did. -Some memories came back, but not many. He needed at least an hour -inside to enable him to forget the hospital and its psychotherapy.</p> - -<p>Once cleared, he would be free for a while to concentrate on what to do -about Erica.</p> - -<p>The hospital evidently had yet to call in the police. He was still safe -on the streets, but the medicos must have notified <i>Interplanet</i> and -all other places at which he might show up. However, the company was -too big for everyone to know about him this soon. More likely there -would be only a few who could have information on him as yet. The trick -was to bypass those individuals who might try to detain him and still -get where he wanted.</p> - -<p>Normally, he'd go to the front office after an accident. This time, he -went to the side gate and when the guard looked at him questioningly, -mumbled, "Reporting for duty." Which got him through.</p> - -<p>Inside, there were more memories awaiting him. Depending on them, he -walked rapidly through hall after hall and finally found the desk he -sought. The man behind it looked up. "Are you sure you're in the right -place?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Merrol would soon know. "Reporting for duty," he stated.</p> - -<p>This reply elicited a puzzled expression. "The devil you are. We -haven't hired anyone new."</p> - -<p>"I'm not new. I've been injured, and this is my first time back. Dan -Merrol's my name."</p> - -<p>"Okay, where's your slip?"</p> - -<p>"Slip?" he asked, stalling. This was something he ought to know about, -but didn't.</p> - -<p>"Sure, the release from the front office after an injury."</p> - -<p>"They said they'd send it down," he replied, holding his breath.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The clerk pawed through the stack. "They don't send nothing down," he -growled. "I'll call and find out." His hand reached out and then he -relaxed. "No use bothering them, it'll get here tomorrow." He looked up -and laughed. "Red tape," he said by way of explanation. "Why should I -doubt you? If you said they released you, then they did."</p> - -<p>Merrol was glad to see one man who wasn't impressed by office routines. -Still, his behavior was a little puzzling.</p> - -<p>The man screened on. The communication unit was behind the desk, tilted -so he couldn't see it. The volume was low, but Dan could hear the -conversation from this end. "Got a case for you. Name is Dan Merrol. I -don't know, he's before my time."</p> - -<p>The reply was faint and Dan didn't catch it. But the clerk added, "He -seems okay. What? Sure he's got a release. Would I send him in?"</p> - -<p>He cut the connection and looked up. "Go over to Psych. They'll test -you. If you pass, we'll put you back on schedule." He started to turn -away and saw Merrol standing there. "What's the matter?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know where Psych is."</p> - -<p>"I see. We must have moved things since you were here." The man got up -and pointed. "Down there and turn left at the second corner. You can't -miss."</p> - -<p>The examiner was scanning a card as he entered. "Lots of experience," -he commented. "We'll pass over the written stuff. That's for kids, to -make sure they've studied their lessons. After you've been out this -long, you can almost feel a course faster than anyone can figure it."</p> - -<p>It was a relief. Merrol didn't know how much theory he remembered, but -was sure he could still lift a ship as well as the next man.</p> - -<p>The examiner made a notation on the card and tossed it into a machine -that snapped it up and clicked furiously over it. "Let's take the -biggest thing first, if you're up to it."</p> - -<p>"I feel fine." It was not true, but it was the customary answer. -Anything else, and he'd be shunted off into a series of meaningless -tests, each designed to verify the results of previous tests. An -ingenious scheme rigged up by the psych crew in their spare time -to see how complicated they could make any given system. Answered -straightforwardly, they rushed a man through with a minimum of -officiousness.</p> - -<p>"Okay, let's take the trip."</p> - -<p>He accompanied Dan into a room unlike the others. For one thing, it -might have been the control room of a ship. Forward, there was the -usual clear view. The stars were there too, in an adaptation of the -planetarium. Outside, arranged to give any effect from top acceleration -to free fall, were a number of gravity coils. Except for the pilot—and -Merrol would play that role—there was a full complement of officers -who were invisible.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The tester flicked on a machine. "I'll give you Mars, because that's -your usual run. This is a short drive, because you're in a favorable -position. Got it?"</p> - -<p>Merrol nodded and climbed into the seat, facing the instruments.</p> - -<p>"I've turned on the best crew simulators, better than you'd ever -actually get. Don't worry about them, just take the data and flit the -way you think you should." The tester clamped a mike inches away and -adjusted the visio-recorders firmly on his head, where electron beams -could sneak in and tap his optic centers. "The first trip after you've -been away is rough, but you'll make it."</p> - -<p>Merrol strapped himself in and hoped the other man was right.</p> - -<p>The examiner went to the door, turned and grinned. "Watch out for the -interplanetary goose," he called and snapped the switch.</p> - -<p>Merrol was now in a ship. In the back of his mind there was some doubt -of his ability, but it didn't reach as far as his fingers. Rockets -vibrated beneath him. Outside, he could see the glazed earth-slick. He -touched the power and climbed above the clouds. The sky turned black -and there were stars.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="359" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He checked position. The tester had given him a setup. The Moon was -out of the way and the run to Mars was the shortest on record. If he -couldn't handle this, he wasn't a pilot.</p> - -<p>The seat jabbed him suddenly. That's what he'd been warned about—he'd -been expecting it and still wasn't prepared. The tempathy drugs flooded -into him and the needle was withdrawn.</p> - -<p>Takeoff and landing were always rehearsed on the pilot's own time. -The ends of a voyage were critical and it was essential to have an -undistorted reaction. Besides, neither took long.</p> - -<p>The time between one planet and the next was long and nothing much -happened, so it could be shortened without deleterious effect on the -results. Tempathy drugs shortened it, though not completely. Part of a -man's consciousness went along at normal speed and the rest, that which -counted in jockeying rockets, was enormously telescoped.</p> - -<p>It telescoped on Merrol. He couldn't see. Rather, part of him could -but, for the other fraction, images passed in front of his eyes too -fast for his mind to evaluate. Weeks flipped past in minutes. It -was a dream world turned inside out—the roles of consciousness and -unconsciousness were reversed.</p> - -<p>There was something wrong with the sounds he half-heard. He could get -emotions, though he couldn't separate them into sense. There were -additional voices that shouldn't be there—the mechanical crew spoke to -him giving silent data—but there were other actual voices, fearful or -consolatory. He tried to speak, but his vocal cords were preempted.</p> - -<p>He was doing it all, speaking, moving the controls, directing the ship -between planets. It ought to be easier than takeoff, but it wasn't. He -shouldn't be afraid of anything he might find out there—which was -nothing—but that didn't alter conditions. He was profoundly disturbed, -and he hoped the tester noticed it.</p> - -<p>The examiner did spot trouble. He opened the door and reversed the -switch. Lights went on, and another needle speared him, counteracting -the effects of the tempathy drugs. Slowly the ship disappeared, space -along with it, and the room whirled back into view and settled down. -Something handed him back his eyes and ears.</p> - -<p>"Easy," said the man. "Sit there. You don't have to move. We'll find -out what's wrong. It may not be serious at all."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Unhooking the visio-recorder, the tester also swung the mike away. "You -were doing fine," he said. "Never saw anything smoother. About here, -though, you seemed to be having difficulty. We'll slow it down and see -what it was."</p> - -<p>He snapped the reels in place and darkened the room. On the screen -was the vision-port and, through it, a view of Mars. A fleck of light -glittered, grew, became a cloud, a swarm. A swarm?</p> - -<p>"God!" said the tester, bewildered. "A billion butterflies! How could -you imagine butterflies, twenty million miles from a planet?"</p> - -<p>Merrol squirmed—he didn't know either. What was wrong with him to make -him dream up butterflies?</p> - -<p>The examiner switched the film off and the lights on. "So you missed -them—why, I don't know." He fiddled with another machine. "We'll slow -down the sound, synchronize the two of them later, but maybe by itself -the sound will give us a clue as to what happened."</p> - -<p>"What's that?" It came from the sound track, but it was Merrol's voice.</p> - -<p>"Those are lepidoptera." Another voice, also his, though of different -pitch and timbre—his, because he was the only one there to speak. -"I've always dreamed of discovering a new species and at last I have, -since these can fly through space. What strange adaptations they have -made. Aren't they beautiful?"</p> - -<p>He answered. "They won't be when I plow through them. The rockets will -fry them."</p> - -<p>"Turn aside!" shouted the lepidopterist. "You can't destroy them."</p> - -<p>"I'm going to act as if this were not happening," said a cultured -voice. "<i>Bang-bang!</i>"</p> - -<p>"This is upsetting," said a different person. "Since I have -no instrument, I'll listen with my memory to a Bach concerto. -Unfortunately, it ends in the middle of the third movement, as though -it has been sliced through with a knife that separated one note cleanly -from the next. Still, it's better to have this than nothing."</p> - -<p>"Your computers are awfully slow," said the fifth. "I'll figure out a -new course for us."</p> - -<p>"Gimme the controls," said the wrestler. "I'll turn the ship, if I -hafta do it with my bare hands."</p> - -<p>The examiner snapped off the sound and busied himself with things that -may have been necessary. "You don't have to sit there," he said after a -while. "Wait outside." He glanced down, "Be careful when you move, the -control column will fall off. Didn't know it could be broken."</p> - -<p>As he got out of the seat, the examiner slapped his back. "Tell you -what, fellow—don't wait—go now to the Compensation Board and see -about retirement."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3">IV</p> - -<p>Merrol sat in the room where he had been sitting for a day and a half -since the psych test. He had walked out immediately, found a room and -was still in it. It wasn't comfortable, sitting. Whichever position was -right for the bend of one knee was wrong for the other.</p> - -<p>He had depended on the test to get him out of a jam, but the stratagem -had failed. If he had passed, he'd have been another experienced pilot -for the <i>Interplanet</i> string and that meant something. Experienced men -were valuable and I. P. would have gone to bat for him.</p> - -<p>Not everyone could pass the test and, while it didn't prove that the -man who did was one hundred per cent sane, it was a big argument -in that direction. It was evidence that would have to be respected -publicly, whatever private doubts a psychotherapist might have.</p> - -<p>Unwittingly, he had provided additional ammunition against himself. -When the results of the test sifted through the layers of red tape to -the front office, <i>Interplanet</i> would contact the hospital, which would -then really want to orient him to a frazzle.</p> - -<p>Orientation sounded nice but it was not for Merrol. If they could -orient everyone he would come in contact with as well—but how much -insulation could a man build up against involuntary laughter? It was -fine to be a comedian on the screen and then step out of character -and relax—but what if you couldn't stop? Nobody could adjust to the -constant expectation of hysterical mirth. But wasn't that a reason -to undergo psychotherapy, so they could blunt the edges of his own -reactions? It ought to be, but somehow it wasn't. He didn't dare -submit.</p> - -<p>There was a difference, apparently determined by sex, in the way -people behaved toward him. No man had thus far done more than smile -respectfully while he was near. What they did later, he could guess. -Face to face, they seemed to be reserved and incredulous until they -learned to accept him as a member of their species and sex and -then—how <i>did</i> they act? It would take more than casual thinking to -puzzle <i>that</i> out.</p> - -<p>Women saw the big joke instantly and giggled, and he couldn't blame -them. Seconds later, they smirked contritely and tried to touch him, as -if contact could atone for their behavior. <i>They</i> noticed appearance at -all times, whereas men didn't as a rule of their own sex.</p> - -<p>He paused to re-examine his thoughts. Something seemed to be missing in -his analysis. What it was, he couldn't tell. It would have to come out -later, as he mingled more with people—if he ever did.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And that wasn't all. He had been a pilot, but never would be one -again. His skill had been destroyed by the intrusion of five other -personalities, who each brought his own odd bit of useless knowledge to -the whole Merrol. He should have expected it, but he hadn't, nor had -the doctors.</p> - -<p>It was obvious—the brain slices that had replaced his own damaged -tissues had to be in healthy condition or they'd never have functioned -properly—and what did those medical fools think was the function of -any brain? He was in command of the group brain because his was the -dominant fraction, but when he sat down and thought about it, what good -did it do? He was sitting down and it didn't do any good, so he got up.</p> - -<p>He took two paces across the room and looked out the window, into -windows that looked into his. Compensation was coming to him. -Ultimately, he'd divide it with Erica and go away. She must know by now -that the man she had spent the night with was actually her own husband. -Intellectually she must have decided to accept him.</p> - -<p>He wasn't noble, though. Much as he wanted her, he knew he couldn't -live with anyone who had to stifle her laughter when he stepped out of -the bath or into bed.</p> - -<p>He walked the carpet aimlessly until, through the window, he caught a -word from the telecast in the next apartment. He thought it sounded -familiar. He yanked the louvers closed and grunted, but it didn't -help—the word bothered him. He reached out the long arm to turn on his -own screen.</p> - -<p>A face came into view and a man's voice whispered. Merrol turned up the -volume, but it didn't get any louder. It was the low-pressure soothing -type. Whatever he was selling, it was a welcome change.</p> - -<p>The announcer smiled reassuringly. "Actually, I'm talking to one -person. The rest of you may listen or not for the next five minutes, -after which I'll have something to say to you." It was a clever -approach to insure that the audience didn't switch programs.</p> - -<p>"Dan Merrol, this is a personal message to you." Merrol sat up.</p> - -<p>"We'd call you if we could, but this is a large city and you've simply -vanished. We have operatives trying to trace you, but with no success -up to now." The announcer leaned forward confidentially.</p> - -<p>"Now, Dan, before you become alarmed, let me say you've done nothing -wrong. In fact, at <i>Interplanet</i>, we think you've done everything -right—but I'll come to that later."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Interplanet? Then it wasn't the hospital or the police. What could I. -P. want of him?</p> - -<p>"No doubt the test you took was somewhat of a shock. Don't blame the -psych examiner for the conclusions he formed—he can't be expected to -know more than the leading psychologists. You're probably curious as -to what this test has to do with you and <i>Interplanet</i>. We hope so—we -want you to keep on listening.</p> - -<p>"The test proved you're no longer a competent pilot—but it also -indicated something much bigger. Dan, <i>you</i> are the answer to a problem -that has been bothering us for generations. Before the accident, you -knew nothing of music or any life science, your math was adequate but -not deep, you often felt awkward in the presence of others when you had -no need to and you lacked confidence in your physical ability.</p> - -<p>"Suddenly, you gained something of each and, when we contacted your -doctors, we were able to surmise how it happened. Now you ask—what -good does this do you and what is the problem to which this is the -answer?</p> - -<p>"Simply this—<i>specialization</i>. You know what constitutes a rocket -crew—pilot, radio man, engineer and several lesser technicians, each -of whom knows only his own job. Although you'll never sit at the -controls again—through you, we can help others."</p> - -<p>The announcer lowered his voice now. "You can unlock specialization -for us. In the future, each man will concentrate on what particular -aptitudes he has, then share it, via surgery, with others whose -knowledge complements his own. To do this, we need to study you further -and, of course, we'll pay you well for the opportunity. In addition, -you'll still get your compensation. Please come and talk it over with -us.</p> - -<p>"Frankly, we're a little worried about what you may be thinking. If -you have any thoughts of self-destruction because of what must seem a -strange condition, put them aside. You're much saner than the average -man."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Merrol listened, smiling at the remark. No matter what they thought, he -couldn't seriously contemplate suicide. There were too many others to -dissuade him.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, it was hard to understand and accept the sudden change of -his status. He had formerly been a mere employee, but now....</p> - -<p>The announcer hadn't finished. "In the beginning, Dan, I said you had -done everything right, whether you knew it or not. After we learned -what we did from your test, we checked through our files and found -that we had a few other accident cases on record in which part of -the brain had been replaced. In each case there was a faint trace of -another personality, which we could detect when we knew what to look -for. We rechecked each person we could locate. Unfortunately, the -latent personalities and their share of knowledge had been submerged -beyond recovery by the rigorous psychotherapy the accident victim had -undergone after surgery."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The imaginary Wysocki's theorem of self-therapy. He never knew of -anyone by that name, nor had he got it from one of the other five. But, -however nonsensically he had invented it to express the needs he felt -at the time, it was, in fact, not nonsense. When it came to that, who -knew anything about six minds packaged together—and what could have -been done to him in ignorance?</p> - -<p>The announcer was finished talking to Dan Merrol alone. "Remember, -all of you," he said briskly. "This man is neither a criminal -nor insane. He is extremely withdrawn, as a result of unpleasant -experiences. If you can induce him to come to <i>Interplanet</i>, or lead -our representatives to him, you will receive a substantial reward. Here -is his picture."</p> - -<p>Merrol turned off the screen and scowled. He didn't like that last. -He intended to take their offer, but he wanted to be free to walk -the streets. He could settle that easily enough by just calling -<i>Interplanet</i>. They'd send someone down to whisk him away. That would -solve all his problems—or would it?</p> - -<p>Certainly, it eliminated orientation or any form of psychotherapy. -After what had happened to the others, the psychologists would be -content merely to observe what went on in his mind. They wouldn't want -to give him much privacy, but he'd have to insist on it. They'd listen.</p> - -<p>This could be just a job, a very good job while it lasted—say three or -four years—until they had learned all they need to know. Perhaps there -would be other men blended more scientifically than he had been. But he -could accumulate enough money to last the rest of his life, or perhaps -turn his many new talents to something else. There were many things he -would like to do, and he was ahead of everyone else now, even though in -three or four years he would no longer be unique.</p> - -<p>Except, of course, in his body.</p> - -<p>And there it was again. Was there nothing he could do to get away from -it?</p> - -<p>He had no memory of Erica except for the one night, but it was enough -to convince him. What would their future be like in what was sure to -follow? After that broadcast, he would be a person of some note, but -would that stop laughter? Would she wait until he left the room before -she giggled?</p> - -<p>He'd come to terms with <i>Interplanet</i>, but first he had to come to -terms with himself ... and he hadn't.</p> - -<p>How good was his imaginary Wysocki's theorem? Could it take one last -extension? He counted what was left of the money Erica had given him. -It wasn't much, but with it he could leave the city. And he had to.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3">V</p> - -<p>It was dusk when he slipped out of the room and later still when the -plane lifted away from the station. It was an ancient jet, long since -relegated to cheap overnight service where speed was not a factor and -price was.</p> - -<p>He knew he was taking a chance and half expected to be stopped, but -apparently not many people had listened to the broadcast. Casual -glances slid off him and didn't linger. Partly, he suspected, because -he had pulled his hat over his face and thrust his hands in the jacket. -He'd gotten away in time, but by the morning there would be people on -the streets looking for him.</p> - -<p>He stared at the approximation of a port. When this ship had been -built, there was some feeling against the practice and so the row of -picture tubes had been camouflaged as ports in the wall. There was a -station selector switch, but none for <i>on</i> or <i>off</i>. He glowered at the -picture at his elbow and turned to the least annoying thing he could -find. Across the aisle, there were three other programs he could see -distinctly. The one directly opposite was a repeat of the broadcast -he had heard a few hours previously. He scowled and looked away. If -it hadn't been a night plane, in which people sought sleep, he would -certainly have been spotted. Apathy was his best protection. He hunched -down in his seat and dozed off.</p> - -<p>When he awakened, the familiar <i>Interplanet</i> program was at his elbow. -He reached to change stations, then on impulse let his hand continue -past the knob until he felt the ash tray. He unfastened the heavy -article and poked it through the screen.</p> - -<p>The glass broke, but only a few in the immediate vicinity heard it in -the din. To those who stared at him, he presented a view of his back or -the profile of his hat. They glanced at him indifferently, then looked -away. Outside the orifice, where the tube had been in the outer of two -walls, was an actual port. He gazed through it contentedly.</p> - -<p>A finger tapped him. "Yes?" he said in a loud voice.</p> - -<p>The man behind him leaned over. "I've been riding in this plane once a -week for five years. I mean, would you mind if I looked out? I've never -seen where I'm going."</p> - -<p>"Glad to have you."</p> - -<p>The man sat beside him and peered wistfully out. Below were lights, -the patterns of cities, roads and towns and in the distance the glare -of furnaces. There was also a current of cold air seeping from the -space between the double walls. The man looked, shivered, turned up his -collar and finally went back to his seat.</p> - -<p>It was cold, but Merrol remained where he was. There was some -satisfaction in asserting himself, but the satisfaction wore off and -the cold didn't.</p> - -<p>His attention was caught by the program which was flickering across the -aisle. Doctor Crander—Merrol frowned. Did the hospital want him too? -He listened intently. No, they didn't want him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Crander sounded tired. "This is an emergency appeal and we'll need a -wide response. We have in our care a person with a serious illness we -can't diagnose. With so much interplanetary travel we can't determine -what causes the disease. It may be an organism from a moon of Saturn or -almost anything else.</p> - -<p>"Our staff is working at top speed. We feel, if we can keep her alive -for one week, she'll be out of danger. That is by no means a certainty, -but a reasonably accurate forecast.</p> - -<p>"We have a new theory, largely untested, but we hope it will work. -Each person differs from the next and though, when we match limbs and -organs, we try to take this into account, we never quite succeed in -effecting a perfect biological match. As a result, the character of the -blood changes, slightly but significantly. It's as if we had lumped -together the various natural immunities of the component bodies and -created an entirely new super-immunity."</p> - -<p>Crander paused. "We need persons who have had five or more major -replacements. By major, I mean hands, arms, legs or parts of -them—nothing so trivial as ears, or a few feet of skin, or three or -four fingers.</p> - -<p>"It must be at least five, though more are correspondingly better. -Nothing less—and please don't apply with only a minor replacement. Two -donors have volunteered so far and we have fractioned and administered -the blood of one with dramatic, if temporary, results. In a few hours, -we'll have to use the second. After that, I don't know what we'll do."</p> - -<p>Merrol stirred. He was deeply suspicious.</p> - -<p>"Here's the woman," said Crander. "She needs your help."</p> - -<p>The man across the aisle leaned forward and his head was in front of -the picture. Merrol tried to see, but couldn't.</p> - -<p>"It's up to you," said Crander as he faded from the screen.</p> - -<p>Merrol tapped the man across the aisle. "Please repeat it."</p> - -<p>The man glanced around and saw who it was. "Aw, you're the guy who -doesn't like that stuff." He jerked his head at the broken screen.</p> - -<p>The memory cell of the picture tube didn't have a long attention span. -It could recall forty-five seconds of the past program and no longer. -The broadcast might be repeated, or it might not. Did he want to wait?</p> - -<p>He reached out his arm—the long one—and fastened onto the man's -jacket, giving him a short rough shove.</p> - -<p>"Repeat it, I said!"</p> - -<p>The man looked down. He wasn't small himself, but it was a large -fist. "Sure thing," he said, jabbing the repeat button. The scene was -replayed.</p> - -<p>"Thanks," said Merrol, letting go.</p> - -<p>The man looked at his crumpled clothing. "Not at all," he muttered, -sliding away against the wall. "Don't mention it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The woman was Erica. It was too much of a coincidence that, among so -many millions in the city, she should be the one. The hospital and -<i>Interplanet</i> were working together and now they had brought in Erica. -How gullible did they think he was and how much had they offered her -for this? It might not be money, though—they might have convinced -her it was to Dan's own best interest that they get in touch with him -immediately.</p> - -<p>They were baiting him crudely and if they weren't, there were others -who could respond as well as he. There must be hundreds in the -vicinity, scores at any rate, who could qualify. There were enough -without him, depending on how often the blood fraction was needed. -Crander hadn't said. It was a trick and Erica wasn't ill—or if she -was, she would be safe without him. He had to make up his mind before -he saw her, and he couldn't. He clenched his hands, both big and -little. He had stretched Wysocki's theorem too far and it had failed.</p> - -<p>"I had a wife once." The voice startled him, but he sat still, hoping -to hear it again. Maybe they would tell him what to do. "Not so slender -as Erica. Rather bouncy, in fact, but I liked her. Pity she ran away -with a coleopterist. Never could understand what she saw in him." The -voice grew sad. "<i>Beetles!</i>"</p> - -<p>"My advice is that wives are easily come by," said a theatrical voice, -modulated for effect. "But before he shuffles off this mortal coil to -the last roundup, every man should have at least one wife like Erica."</p> - -<p>"I can't speak of wives or women," said the musician. "There's so -little memory left, mostly music. But you've been subconsciously -humming a tune for days—and I must tell you that Beethoven didn't -write anything called Erica. The correct title is Eroica."</p> - -<p>"One fall don't mean nothing, it's always the best two out of three. -The way I see it, you gotta get up. Get close to them, hold them tight, -or they'll throw you outta the ring."</p> - -<p>"This is something that can't be figured. There are some odds no one -can live by. You'll have to solve this one yourself."</p> - -<p>He sat there, not moving. They were with him always, but sometimes they -weren't much help.</p> - -<p>The plane would land on the other side of the continent. He had little -money, but he could get in touch with <i>Interplanet</i> and they would -advance him the fare back. Unfortunately, such a move would take time. -There would be schedules to juggle, to say nothing of the ride back. A -mere matter of hours on a fast ship—yet what if that was too long?</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He got to his feet and went forward. "You can't go in there," said the -stewardess.</p> - -<p>He looked past her into the pilot's compartment. It was securely locked -from this side though not on the other. He glanced down at the girl. -It was a tradition that stewardesses were gorgeous creatures, though -the tradition was simply not true any longer. In an age of space -exploration, air travel had dispensed with glamor. But for unfathomable -reasons, this stewardess was a throwback to the old days. If she didn't -quite achieve real beauty, she came close enough so that no healthy -male could conceivably object to her nearness.</p> - -<p>Merrol could take the keys away from her, but she'd scream and a dozen -men would come leaping to her rescue. He didn't care for the odds.</p> - -<p>He had met three women and had he misjudged the effect of the -new himself on them? First Erica—her behavior had been strange, -considering that, even from the first, she must have doubted he -was her husband. Then the receptionist—she <i>had</i> gone out of her -way to get him into Crander's office when the latter was upset by -the disappearance of a patient. And finally, the pathetic Miss -Jerrems, who had thawed and would have descended to crooked schemes, -had he encouraged her. Was this some form of pity or something -quite different—or did it matter at all as long as they were not -indifferent? There was a way to find out.</p> - -<p>He raised his arm, the shorter one, and laid his hand affectionately on -the stewardess' shoulder. "Isn't there a private room in back?"</p> - -<p>She tilted her head and her lips glistened. "Yes, there is."</p> - -<p>"Small enough for two?"</p> - -<p>"I believe so." Her lashes trembled and lowered and she seemed -surprised that they did. "That is if you—if we snuggled close."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure we will. Why don't you find out about that room?"</p> - -<p>"It seems like a good idea." She blushed and turned to leave.</p> - -<p>"I'll need keys, won't I?" he said.</p> - -<p>She leaned against him and the keys dropped into his hand. "I'll be -waiting," she whispered. He watched her walk down the aisle and enjoyed -the enticing sway of her hips. Under other circumstances, he might -have considered joining her.</p> - -<p>He had the keys! It had worked! He didn't know why, nor did he have -time to think about it. He inserted the key and stepped inside.</p> - -<p>"Hi, Jane," sang out the pilot, not turning, assuming he knew who it -was.</p> - -<p>Merrol located the autopilot switch and, reaching past the man, turned -it on. With the same motion he whirled the pilot around. "Listen, -friend, don't you want to go back?"</p> - -<p>"No. Why should I?" The pilot was startled, but not intimidated.</p> - -<p>"Engine trouble or something. You figure it out. I don't care -what it is, as long as we get back." He half-hoped the man would -object—physical action would be a relief. In an emergency, he could -handle the ship himself—it was simpler than a spaceship.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The pilot squinted beyond and behind him. "Engines don't sound so -good," he muttered. He was unexpectedly docile. "Safety first is the -motto of this airline." It was a good rule, but it was questionable -whose safety he was referring to.</p> - -<p>The pilot was still having unaccountable difficulty with his -eyes—there was a marked tendency to cross. "Sure, we'll go back," he -said. "Glad you brought it to my attention. But call off your gang, -will you, mister?"</p> - -<p>Merrol turned around. He was alone. There was no one behind him, though -the pilot seemed convinced there was.</p> - -<p>He had a partial answer to the pilot's strange reaction. He was a -multiple personality and, normally latent, in times of stress the -multi-personality became dominant and impressed itself psychologically -on the observer. And if the mind received the impression of several -men, the eye tried hard to produce evidence that would confirm it.</p> - -<p>Not everyone was as successful at self-hypnosis as the pilot, but -the temptation toward it was always there. Now that he thought of -it, men never had laughed at him. Instead they had been respectful. -He apparently had an unsettling effect on those of his own sex he -came in contact with—just how powerful it was, he didn't know yet. -The complete answer would have to await investigation by trained -psychologists.</p> - -<p>Women were different. They invariably laughed first—Erica too, in -spite of the general sympathy she must have felt for him. In what did -the difference lie? That too he would have to determine—later.</p> - -<p>The pilot looked at him dizzily, beseechingly. Merrol decided he must -be pouring it on, though he felt no different. "Remember, I can get up -here in an awful hurry," said Merrol, "so no tricks." The pilot nodded -and clung helplessly to the controls. He wouldn't cause any trouble. -Merrol raised his arm in a gesture. "Come on, fellows."</p> - -<p>As an afterthought, he locked the stewardess in the private compartment -and, as he did so, he could feel the plane swing in a wide arc that -would take them to the station they had started from. The apathetic -dozing passengers didn't even notice.</p> - -<p>And then all six of him walked back to his seat and Merrol sat down.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3">VI</p> - -<p>He slid out of the plane while it was still rolling. He didn't want to -argue with the passengers, when they found they were on the wrong coast -and he was to blame. Nor did he particularly want to explain to the -authorities. Later he would have to, but by then he would have powerful -interests behind him to smooth over the incident.</p> - -<p>It was late and there were no cabs in sight, in air or on surface. He -crossed the landing strip into the station and out of it and swept -along the dark streets with a loose-jointed stride that made the -distance seem less than it was. Presently, he broke into a trot and his -speed was encouraging.</p> - -<p>A hoppicopter—one of the little surface cars that could rise and -fly for a short time to avoid traffic jams—bounced down and rolled -alongside. A window slid open and a head popped out. "In a hurry, -mister?"</p> - -<p>He bobbed his head. "Hospital."</p> - -<p>"Jump in and we'll take you. We're not doing anything special—just -riding around." The hoppicopter stopped. This was luck—he'd get there -faster.</p> - -<p>The man in the front seat opened the door and stepped out, flashing a -light on him. "Just a check. We don't mind taking you, but we want to -be sure we don't pick up some rough character."</p> - -<p>The man didn't look so gentle himself—and the light was trained on Dan -too long. If they were afraid, he'd have to refuse their offer and go -on.</p> - -<p>"Hey, Carl," the man with the flash called out puzzledly. "Haven't we -seen this guy somewhere before?"</p> - -<p>He should have expected something like this and not stopped—but maybe -it would have been worse if he hadn't. So far, he had been lucky that -no one had spotted him—and now was not the time to be discussing -terms with <i>Interplanet</i>. He began to edge away.</p> - -<p>Carl climbed out of the hoppicopter and circled in the same direction -Merrol was inching toward. "I guess I have at that," said Carl slowly. -He was a big man. "Can't say where, though."</p> - -<p>Merrol breathed more easily. He couldn't make a break for it, but -perhaps he wouldn't have to. They might not have seen the broadcast. -"I've got to hurry," he said. "I'll go on."</p> - -<p>"Don't get sore," said Carl soothingly. "We'll take you. Climb in."</p> - -<p>The man with the light was frowning indecisively. "The guy on the -broadcast?" he asked sharply.</p> - -<p>"Nah," said Carl disgustedly. "That guy—you look at his picture and -you have to bust out laughing. Now this fellow here—while he's a -long way from handsome—is clearly the executive type, a man you can -trust." Carl scrutinized him thoughtfully. Before Merrol could stop -him, he reached out and plucked off the hat. "There's only one guy with -three-colored hair, though, and you've got it," he said unbelievingly.</p> - -<p>Merrol started to back away, but the body of the hoppicopter stopped -him.</p> - -<p>"Mister, you've sure got some disguise," said the other man in an awed -voice. "I could look right at you all day and not tell who it was."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was no disguise, it was the multi-personality again. No one looked -quite the same in real life as in a picture, because the personality -was missing. And with him the difference was far more marked. The -camera could register his features accurately, but men couldn't, not -when he was actually there to inspire trust and respect—and he did -arouse those emotions. Added together, these were some of the reasons -why he hadn't hitherto been recognized.</p> - -<p>"Sorry to have bothered you," he said, pushing between them as they -converged on him. "I'm in a hurry."</p> - -<p>"Sure, sure," said Carl, apologetically, moving aside.</p> - -<p>"But he's money!" the man with the flashlight cried in an anguished -voice.</p> - -<p>"So he is!" said Carl. The vision of money seemed to carry a lot of -weight with him. He seemed reluctant to act, but he reached out and -swung Merrol around. "We'll take you to <i>Interplanet</i> and then you can -go to the hospital. Don't worry, we aren't going to do nothing. It -don't <i>pay</i> us to hurt you."</p> - -<p>Their original intentions were probably sincere, but now that they -thought they'd found money on the street, they weren't willing to let -it go. But Merrol was not going to accompany them to <i>Interplanet</i>. He -jerked away.</p> - -<p>"We'll split the reward," said Carl. "Too bad we got to carry him in."</p> - -<p>Merrol tried to elude him, but Carl caught his arm in a bone-cracking -hold. That is, it ought to have splintered bone. That it didn't was not -due to lack of skill, but to the proportions of the arm to which it was -applied. The advantage of leverage went to Merrol and he used it. He -broke loose and swung the long arm with the large fist and Carl went -down.</p> - -<p>The man with the light dropped it, climbed on Merrol's back and was -pounding away at a nerve. Had he found the nerve, Merrol might have -crumpled to the street. He didn't find it, because it wasn't there. The -nerve had been surgically rerouted.</p> - -<p>Merrol peeled him off and tossed him on top of Carl. He tossed him -harder than he meant to and neither man moved.</p> - -<p>He climbed into the hoppicopter and rolled it through the dark streets. -They had caused him to lose time and for this they would forfeit the -use of their 'copter. They could pick it up in the morning, if they -felt like claiming it. He got out and hurried into the hospital.</p> - -<p>He met others in the corridors—it was a busy place in spite of the -lateness—but the first person he recognized was Erica. "Dan!" she -said. She didn't use anything scientific, but the hold on him was -harder to break than judo. Perhaps because he didn't want to.</p> - -<p>Later, he became aware of someone tapping his shoulder. He turned -around. "These things can be consummated in the privacy of one's own -home," murmured Doctor Crander. "But when a life is at stake, passion -should be put aside."</p> - -<p>The purely physical elation began to fade. He put Erica down, but -uncertainly holding onto her. It was an ambivalent gesture. "Is this -what you call an emergency?" he asked sarcastically. He had broken a -number of minor laws and nearly his own neck in getting here. He had a -right to be angry, though he was not sure how he felt.</p> - -<p>The doctor gave him a scandalized look. "Do you think we're unethical? -There is such a woman as we described, one of our staff. We do have -other donors, but we think you can do more for her. In a fit of -despondency, this woman wandered into the extraterrestrial room without -the customary protection, hoping to catch something—and she did." -Crander frowned. "The only way we altered facts was to use your wife's -photo. It was her idea. Furthermore, it is true that a pretty girl gets -a better response—and, of course, Erica wanted you back."</p> - -<p>When he learned who the patient was, he was satisfied with his -decision. After the blood fraction had been administered to Miss -Jerrems, even his untrained eyes could see the improvement.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He watched Erica suspiciously as she pattered about in a state of -dishabille that did nothing to enhance her beauty but, perversely, -made her more exciting. That she had been uncertain as to his identity -the last time meant little and he could forgive it. Man and wife were -not thereby distinct species, separate to themselves, unattracted or -repelled by all others of the opposite sex. For himself, he had only to -remember the stewardess.</p> - -<p>But it was important to know what her true feelings toward him were. -Laughter at the wrong time could be disastrous to a man's ego!</p> - -<p>"This time, you know there's no mistake," he said, hoping that irony -was some protection. "But are you sure you want me as a husband?"</p> - -<p>She stopped fiddling with her hair. She tilted her head and looked -at him, at a body that defied the laws of anatomy and the face that -belonged on a clown—except that a clown could take his face off. "Are -you trying to get rid of me?" She was asking questions, not answering -them.</p> - -<p>Erica was examining him carefully and he could tell that she, unlike a -male, saw each feature distinctly, saw the nose that had belonged to -someone else and looked it, the jaw, originally very fine, but with -contours that had since melted out of shape.</p> - -<p>"I'm not trying to get rid of you," he said. "Maybe you want somebody -nicer." He'd have to know before he could stop feeling tormented.</p> - -<p>"Nicer?" she echoed. "Do you want me to answer that?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She came and leaned against him. "A woman ought to have <i>some</i> -secrets," she murmured. "But if you have to know, the first time I -saw you I laughed, because you are funny. And after that, well, I saw -traces of the nicest features of nearly every man I ever had a crush -on. That was just the physical side."</p> - -<p>She rested her head on his shoulder. "I didn't believe you actually -were Dan. I didn't pay attention to a thing you said."</p> - -<p>"But if you didn't believe...."</p> - -<p>"Just what you're thinking," she answered. "I couldn't help it. You're -the most exciting challenge a woman can have. Even if she doesn't know -why, as I didn't then, it's still there—half a dozen men, and all of -them in one monogamous package."</p> - -<p>Now that she put it that way, he could see why she hadn't been able to -resist. He could see that there were few women who could. He glanced at -a framed photograph of the handsome pre-accident Dan Merrol that stood -on the bureau. He thought, <i>Poor sucker!</i></p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man Who Was Six, by F. L. Wallace - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WHO WAS SIX *** - -***** This file should be named 51295-h.htm or 51295-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/9/51295/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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L. Wallace - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Man Who Was Six - -Author: F. L. Wallace - -Release Date: February 24, 2016 [EBook #51295] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WHO WAS SIX *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - The Man Who Was Six - - By F. L. WALLACE - - Illustrated by ASHMAN - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Science Fiction September 1954. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - There is nothing at all like having a sound - mind in a sound body, but Dan Merrol had too - much of one--and also too much of the other! - - -"Sorry, darling," said Erica. She yawned, added, "I've tried--but I -just can't believe you're my husband." - -He felt his own yawn slip off his face. "What do you mean? What am I -doing here then?" - -"Can't you remember?" Her laughter tinkled as she pushed him away and -sat up. "They said you were Dan Merrol at the hospital, but they must -have been wrong." - -"Hospitals don't make that kind of mistake," he said with a certainty -he didn't altogether feel. - -"But _I_ should know, shouldn't I?" - -"Of course, but...." He did some verbal backstepping. "It was a -bad accident. You've got to expect that I won't be quite the same -at first." He sat up. "_Look_ at me. Can't you tell who I am?" She -returned his gaze, then swayed toward him. He decided that she was -highly attractive--but surely he ought to have known that long ago. - - * * * * * - -With a visible effort she leaned away from him. "Your left eye does -look familiar," she said cautiously. "The brown one, I mean." - -"The _brown_ one?" - -"Your other eye's green," she told him. - -"Of course--a replacement. I told you it was a serious accident. They -had to use whatever was handy." - -"I suppose so--but shouldn't they have tried to stick to the original -color scheme?" - -"It's a little thing," he said. "I'm lucky to be alive." He took her -hand. "I believe I can convince you I'm _me_." - -"I wish you could." Her voice was low and sad and he couldn't guess why. - -"My name is Dan Merrol." - -"They told you that at the hospital." - -They hadn't--he'd read it on the chart. But he had been alone in the -room and the name had to be his, and anyway he _felt_ like Dan Merrol. -"Your name is Erica." - -"They told you that too." - -She was wrong again, but it was probably wiser not to tell her how he -knew. No one had said anything to him in the hospital. He hadn't given -them a chance. He had awakened in a room and hadn't wanted to be alone. -He'd got up and read the chart and searched dizzily through the closet. -Clothes were hanging there and he'd put them on and muttered her name -to himself. He'd sat down to gain strength and after a while he'd -walked out and no one had stopped him. - -It was night when he left the hospital and the next thing he remembered -was her face as he looked through the door. Her name hadn't been on the -chart nor her address and yet he had found her. That proved something, -didn't it? "How could I forget you?" he demanded. - -"You may have known someone else with that name. When were we married?" - -Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital. It would have been easier -to convince her there. But he'd been frantic to get home. "It was quite -a smashup," he said. "You'll have to expect some lapses." - -"I'm making allowances. But can't you tell me something about myself?" - -He thought--and couldn't. He wasn't doing so well. "Another lapse," -he said gloomily and then brightened. "But I can tell you lots about -myself. For instance, I'm a specialist in lepidoptera." - -"What's that?" - -"At the moment, who knows? Anyway, I'm a well-known actor and a -musician and a first-rate mathematician. I can't remember any equations -offhand except C equals pi R squared. It has to do with the velocity -of light. And the rest of the stuff will come back in time." It was -easier now that he'd started and he went on rapidly. "I'm thirty-three -and after making a lot of money wrestling, married six girls, not -necessarily in this order--Lucille, Louise, Carolyn, Katherine, Shirley -and Miriam." That was quite a few marriages--maybe it was thoughtless -of him to have mentioned them. No woman approves her predecessors. - -"That's six. Where do I come in?" - -"Erica. You're the seventh and best." It was just too many, now that he -thought of it, and it didn't seem right. - -She sighed and drew away. "That was a lucky guess on your age." - - * * * * * - -Did that mean he wasn't right on anything else? From the expression -on her face, it did. "You've got to expect me to be confused in the -beginning. Can't you really tell who I am?" - -"I _can't_! You don't have the same personality at all." She glanced at -her arm. There was a bruise on it. - -"Did I do that?" he asked. - -"You did, though I'm sure you didn't mean to. I don't think you -realized how strong you were. Dan was always too gentle--he must have -been afraid of me. And _you_ weren't at all." - -"Maybe I was impetuous," he said. "But it was such a long time." - -"Almost three months. But most of that time you were floating in -gelatin in the regrowth tank, unconscious until yesterday." She -leaned forward and caressed his cheek. "Everything seems wrong, no -matter how hard I try to believe otherwise. You don't have the same -personality--you can't remember anything." - -"And I have one brown eye and one green." - -"It's not just that, darling. Go over to the mirror." - -He had been seriously injured and he was still weak from the shock. He -got up and walked unsteadily to the mirror. "Now what?" - -"Stand beside it. Do you see the line?" Erica pointed to the glass. - -He did--it was a mark level with his chin. "What does it mean?" - -"That should be the top of Dan Merrol's head," she said softly. - -He was a good six inches taller than he ought to be. But there must be -some explanation for the added height. He glanced down at his legs. -They were the same length from hip bone to the soles of his feet, but -the proportions differed from one side to the other. His knees didn't -match. _Be-dum, be-dum, be-dumdum, but your knees don't match_--the -snatch of an ancient song floated through his head. - -Quickly, he scanned himself. It was the same elsewhere. The upper right -arm was massive, too big for the shoulder it merged with. And the -forearm, while long, was slender. He blinked and looked again. While -they were patching him up, did they really think he needed black, red -and brown hair? He wondered how a beagle felt. - - * * * * * - -What were they, a bunch of humorists? Did they, for comic effect, piece -together a body out of bits and scraps left over from a chopping block? -It was himself he was looking at, otherwise he'd say the results were -neither hideous nor horrible, but merely--well, what? Ludicrous and -laughable--and there were complications in that too. Who wants to be -an involuntary clown, a physical buffoon that Mother Nature hadn't -duplicated since Man began? - -He felt the stubble on his face with his left hand--he _thought_ it -was his left hand--at least it was on that side. The emerging whiskers -didn't feel like anything he remembered. Wait a minute--was it _his_ -memory? He leaned against the wall and nearly fell down. The length of -that arm was unexpectedly different. - -He hobbled over to a chair and sat down, staring miserably at Erica as -she began dressing. There was quite a contrast between the loveliness -of her body and the circus comedy of his own. - -"Difficult, isn't it?" she said, tugging her bra together and closing -the last snap, which took considerable effort. She was a small girl -generally, though not around the chest. - -It was difficult and in addition to his physique there were the -memories he couldn't account for. Come to think of it, he must have -been awfully busy to have so many careers in such a short time--_and_ -all those wives too. - -Erica came close and leaned comfortingly against him, but he wasn't -comforted. "I waited till I was sure. I didn't want to upset you." - -He wasn't as sure as she seemed to be now. Somehow, maybe he was still -Dan Merrol--but he wasn't going to insist on it--not after looking at -himself. Not after trying to sort out those damned memories. - -She was too kind, pretending to be a little attracted to him, to the -scrambled face, to the mismatched lumps and limbs and shapes that, -stretching the term, currently formed his body. It was clear what he -had to do. - - * * * * * - -The jacket he had worn last night didn't fit. Erica cut off the sleeve -that hung far over his fingertips on one side and basted it to the -sleeve that ended well above his wrist, on the other. The shoulders -were narrow, but the material would stretch and after shrugging around -in it, he managed to expand it so it was not too tight. - -The trousers were also a problem--six inches short with no material -to add on, but here again Erica proved equal to the task and, using -the cuffs, contrived to lengthen them. Shoes were another difficulty. -For one foot the size was not bad, but he could almost step out of the -other shoe. When she wasn't looking, he wadded up a spare sock and -stuffed it in the toe. - -He looked critically at himself in the mirror. Dressed, his total -effect was better than he had dared hope it would be. True, he did look -_different_. - -Erica gazed at him with melancholy affection. "I can't understand why -they let you out wearing those clothes--or for that matter, why they -let you out at all." - -He must have given some explanation as he'd stumbled through the door. -What was it? - -"When I brought the clothes yesterday, they told me I couldn't see you -for a day or so," she mused aloud. "It was the first time you'd been -out of the regrowth tank--where no one could see you--and they didn't -know the clothes wouldn't fit. You were covered with a sheet, sleeping, -I think. They let me peek in and I could make out a corner of your -face." - -It was the clothes, plus the brief glimpse of his face, which had made -her think she recognized him when he came in. - -"They told me you'd have to have psychotherapy and I'd have to have -orientation before I could see you. That's why I was so surprised when -you rang the bell." - -His head was churning with ideas, trying to sort them out. Part of last -night was dim, part sharp and satisfying. - -"What's Wysocki's theorem?" she asked. - -"_Whose_ theorem?" - -"Wysocki's. I started to call the hospital and you wouldn't let me, -because of the theorem. You said you'd explain it this morning." She -glanced at the bruise on her arm. - -It was then he'd grabbed her, to keep her from talking to the hospital. -He'd been unnecessarily rough, but that could be ascribed to lack of -coordination. She could have been terrified, might have resisted--but -she hadn't. At that time, she must have half-believed he was Dan -Merrol, still dangerously near the edges of post-regrowth shock. - - * * * * * - -She was looking at him, waiting for that explanation. He shook his -mind frantically and the words came out. "Self-therapy," he said -briskly. "The patient alone understands what he needs." She started to -interrupt, but he shook his head and went on blithely. "That's the -first corollary of the theorem. The second is that there are critical -times in the recovery of the patient. At such times, with the least -possible supervision, he should be encouraged to make his own decisions -and carry them through by himself, even though running a slight risk of -physical complications." - -"That's new, isn't it?" she said. "I always thought they watched the -patient carefully." - -It ought to be new--he'd just invented it. "You know how rapidly -medical practices change," he said quickly. "Anyway, when they -examined me last night, I was much stronger than they expected--so, -when I wanted to come home, they let me. It's their latest belief that -initiative is more important than perfect health." - -"Strange," she muttered. "But you are very strong." She looked at him -and blushed. "Initiative, certainly you have. Dan could use some, -wherever he is." - -Dan again, whether it was himself or another person. For a brief time, -as she listened to him, he'd had the silly idea that.... But it could -never happen to him. He'd better leave now while she was distracted and -bewildered and believed what he was saying. "I've got to go. I'm due -back," he told her. - -"Not before you eat," she said. "Any man who's spent the night with me -is hungry in the morning." - -It was a domestic miracle that amidst all the pressing and fitting, -she'd somehow prepared breakfast and he hadn't noticed. It was a simple -chore with the automatics, but to him it seemed a proof of her wifely -skill. - -He wanted to protest, but didn't. Maybe it was the hand she was -holding--it seemed to be equipped with a better set of nerves than its -predecessor. It tingled at her touch. Sadly, he sat down and looked at -his food. Eat? Did he want to eat? Oddly enough, he did. - -"How much do you remember of the accident?" She shoved aside her own -food and sat watching him. - - * * * * * - -Not a thing, now that she asked. In fact, there wasn't much he did -remember. There had been the chart at his bed-side, with one word -scrawled on it--_accident_--and that was where he'd got the idea. There -had been other marks too, but he hadn't been able to decipher them. He -nodded and said nothing and she took it as he thought she would. - -"It wasn't anybody's fault. The warning devices which were supposed to -work didn't," she began. "A Moon ship collided with a Mars liner in -the upper atmosphere. The ships broke up in several parts and since -they are compartmented and the delay rockets switched on immediately, -the separate parts fell rather gently, considering how high they were. -Casualties weren't as great as you might think. - -"Parts of the two ships fell together, the rest were scattered. There -was some interchange of passengers in the wreckage, but since you were -found in the control compartment of the Mars liner, they assumed you -were the pilot. They never let me see you until yesterday and then -it was just a glimpse. I took their word when they said you were Dan -Merrol." - -At least he knew who or what Dan Merrol was--the pilot of the Mars -liner. They had assumed he was the pilot because of where he was found, -but he might have been tossed there--impact did strange things. - -Dan Merrol was a spaceship pilot and he hadn't included it among his -skills. It was strange that she had believed him at all. But now that -it was out in the open, he did remember some facts about spaceships. He -felt he could manage a takeoff at this instant. - -But why hadn't he told her? Shock? Perhaps--but where had those other -identities come from--lepidopterist, musician, actor, mathematician -and wrestler? And where had he got memories of wives, slender and -passionate, petite and wild, casual and complaisant, nagging and -insecure? - -Erica he didn't remember at all, save from last night, and what was -that due to? - -"What are you going to do?" he asked, deliberately toying with the last -bite of breakfast. It gave him time to think. - -"They said they'd identified everyone, living or dead, and I supposed -they had. After seeing you, I can believe they made any number of -similar mistakes. Dan Merrol may be alive under another name. It will -be hard to do, but I must try to find him. Some of the accident victims -went to other hospitals, you know, the ones located nearest where they -fell." - -Even if he was sure, he didn't know whether he could tell her--and he -wasn't sure any longer, although he had been. On the physical side of -marriage, how could he ask her to share a body she'd have to laugh at? -Later, he might tell her, if there was to be a 'later.' He pushed back -his chair and looked at her uncertainly. - -"Let me call a 'copter," she said. "I hate to see you go." - -"Wysocki's theorem," he told her. "The patient has decided to walk." -He weaved toward the door and twisted the knob. He turned in time to -catch her in his arms. - -"I know this is wrong," she said, pressing against him. - -It might be wrong, but it was very pleasant, though he did guess her -motives. She was a warmhearted girl and couldn't help pitying him. -"Don't be so damned considerate," he mumbled. - -"You'll have to put me down," she said, averting her eyes. -"Otherwise.... You're an intolerable funny man." - -He knew it--he could see himself in the mirror. He was something to -laugh at when anyone got tired of pretending sympathy. He put her down -and stumbled out. He thought he could hear the bed creak as she threw -herself on it. - - -II - -Once he got started, walking wasn't hard. His left side swung at a -different rate from his right, but that was due to the variation in -the length of his thighs and lower legs, and the two rhythms could be -reconciled. He swept along, gaining control of his muscles. He became -aware that he was whizzing past everyone. - -He slowed down--he didn't want to attract attention. It was difficult -but he learned to walk at a pedestrian pace. However poorly they'd -matched his legs, they'd given him good ones. - -Last night, on an impulse, he'd left the hospital and now he had to go -back. _Had_ to? Of course. There were too many uncertainties still to -be settled. He glanced around. It was still very early in the morning -and normal traffic was just beginning. Maybe they hadn't missed him -yet, though it was unlikely. - -He seemed to know the route well enough and covered the distance in a -brief time. He turned in at the building and, scanning the directory, -went at once to the proper floor and stopped at the desk. - - * * * * * - -The receptionist was busy with the drawer of the desk. "Can I help -you?" she asked, continuing to peer down. - -"The director--Doctor Crander. I don't have an appointment." - -"Then the director can't see you." The girl looked up and her firmly -polite expression became a grimace of barely suppressed laughter. - -Then laughter was swept away. What replaced it he couldn't say, but it -didn't seem related to humor. She placed her hand near his but it went -astray and got tangled with his fingers. "I just thought of a joke," -she murmured. "Please don't think that I consider you at all funny." - -The hell she didn't--and it was the second time within the hour a woman -had used that word on him. He wished they'd stop. He took back his -hand, the slender one, an exquisite thing that might once have belonged -to a musician. Was there an instrument played with one hand? The other -one was far larger and clumsier, more suited to mayhem than music. -"When can I see the director?" - -She blinked at him. "A patient?" She didn't need to look twice to see -that he had been one. "The director does occasionally see ex-patients." - -He watched her appreciatively as she went inside. The way she walked, -you'd think she had a special audience. Presently the door opened and -she came back, batting her eyes vigorously. - -"You can go in now," she said huskily. Strange, her voice had dropped -an octave in less than a minute. "The old boy tried to pretend he was -in the middle of a grave emergency." - -On his way in, he miscalculated, or she did, and he brushed against -her. The touch was pleasant, but not thrilling. That reaction seemed -reserved for Erica. - -"Glad to see you," said Doctor Crander, behind the desk. He was nervous -and harassed for so early in the morning. "The receptionist didn't give -me your name. For some reason she seems upset." - -She did at that, he thought--probably bewildered by his appearance. The -hospital didn't seem to have a calming influence on either her or the -doctor. "That's why I came here. I'm not sure who I am. I thought I was -Dan Merrol." - -Doctor Crander tried to fight his way through the desk. Being a little -wider and solider, though not by much, the desk won. He contented -himself by wiping his forehead. "Our missing patient," he said, sighing -with vast relief. "For a while I had visions of...." He then decided -that visions were nothing a medical man should place much faith in. - -"Then I _am_ Dan Merrol?" - -The doctor came cautiously around the desk this time. "Of course. I -didn't expect that you'd come walking in my office--that's why I didn't -recognize you immediately." He exhaled peevishly. "Where did you go? -We've been searching for you everywhere." - -It seemed wiser to Dan not to tell him everything. "It was stuffy -inside. I went out for a stroll before the nurse came in." - -Crander frowned, his nervousness rapidly disappearing. "Then it was -about an hour ago. We didn't think you could walk at all so soon, or we -would have kept someone on duty through the night." - - * * * * * - -They had underestimated him, but he didn't mind. Of course, he didn't -know how a patient from the regrowth tanks was supposed to act. -The doctor took his pulse. "Seems fine," he said, surprised. "Sit -down--please sit down." - -Without waiting for him to comply, Crander pushed him into a chair and -began hauling out a variety of instruments with which he poked about -his bewildered patient. - -Finally Crander seemed satisfied. "Excellent," he said. "If I didn't -know better, I'd say you were almost fully recovered. A week ago, we -considered removing you from the regrowth tank. Our decision to leave -you there an extra week has paid off very, very nicely." - -Merrol wasn't as pleased as the doctor appeared to be. "Granted you can -identify me as the person who came out of regrowth--but does that mean -I'm Dan Merrol? Could there be a mistake?" - -Crander eyed him clinically. "We don't ordinarily do this--but it is -evident that with you peace of mind is more important than procedure. -And you look well enough to stand the physical strain." - -He pressed the buzzer and an angular woman in her early forties -answered. "Miss Jerrems, the Dan Merrol file." - -Miss Jerrems flashed a glance of open adoration at the doctor and -before she could reel it in, her gaze swept past Dan, hesitated and -returned to him. Her mouth opened and closed like that of a nervous -goldfish and she darted from the room. - -_They see me and flee as fast as they can caper_, thought Merrol. It -was not wholly true--Crander didn't seem much affected. But he was a -doctor and used to it. Furthermore, he probably had room for only one -emotion at the moment--relief at the return of his patient. - -Miss Jerrems came back, wheeling a large cart. Dan was surprised at the -mass of records. Crander noticed his expression and smiled. "You're -our prize case, Merrol. I've never heard of anyone else surviving -such extensive surgery. Naturally, we have a step-by-step account of -everything we did." - -He turned to the woman. "You may leave, Miss Jerrems." She went, but -the adoration she had showed so openly for her employer seemed to have -curdled in the last few moments. - -Crander dug into the files and rooted out photographs. "Here are -pictures of the wreckage in which you were found--notice that you were -strapped in your seat--as you were received into the hospital--at -various stages in surgery and finally, some taken from the files of the -company for which you worked." - -Merrol winced. The photographic sequence was incontrovertible. He had -been a handsome fellow. - -"Here is other evidence you may not have heard of. It's a recent -development, within the last ten years, in fact. It still isn't -accepted by most courts--they're always lagging--but to medical men -it's the last word." - - * * * * * - -Merrol studied the patterns of waves and lines and splotches. "What is -it?" - -"Mass-cell radiographs. One was loaned by your employer. The other was -taken just after your last operation. Both were corrected according -to standard methods. One cell won't do it, ten yield an uncertain -identity--but as few as a hundred cells from any part of the original -body, excepting the blood, constitute proof more positive than -fingerprints before the surgical exchange of limbs. Don't ask me -why--no one knows. But it is true that cells differ from one body to -the next, and this test detects the difference." - -The mass-cell radiographs did seem identical and Dr. Crander seemed -certain. Taken altogether, the evidence was overwhelming. There had -been no mistake--he was Dan Merrol, though it was not difficult to -understand why Erica couldn't believe he was her husband. - -"You did a fine job," he said. Recalling the picture of the wreckage, -he knew they had. "But couldn't you have done just a little better?" - - * * * * * - -Crander's eyebrows bounced up. "We're amazed at how well we have -done. You can search case histories and find nothing comparable." His -eyebrows dropped back into place. "Of course, if you have a specific -complaint...." - -"Nothing specific. But look at this hand...." - -The doctor seized it. "Beautiful, isn't it?" - -"Perhaps--taken by itself." Dan rolled up his sleeve. "See how it joins -the forearm." - -Crander waggled it gravely. "It coordinates perfectly. I've observed -you have complete control over it. The doctor's eye, my boy. The -doctor's diagnostic eye." - -The other just didn't understand. "But the size--it doesn't match my -arm!" - -"Doesn't _match_?" cried the doctor. "Do you have any idea of the -biological ways in which it _does_ match? True, it may not be -esthetically harmonized, but here we delve into the mysteries of the -human organism, and we can hardly be striving for Botticelli bodies and -Michelangelo men. First, your hand moves freely at the joint, a triumph -of surgical skill." He moved the hand experimentally, to show Merrol -how it was done. He dropped the hand and hurried to a screen against -the wall. - -Crander drew his finger across the surface and the mark remained. "You -know about Rh positive and negative blood. Mixed, they can be lethal. -This was discovered long ago, by someone I've forgotten. But there are -other factors just as potent and far more complex." - -He scribbled meaningless symbols on the screen with his finger. "Take -the bone factors--three. They must be matched in even such a slight -contact as a joint ... this was done. Then there are the tissue -factors--four. Tendon factors--two. Nerve-splice factors--three -again. After that, we move into a complex field, hormone-utilization -factors--seven at the latest count and more coming up with further -research. - -"That's the beginning, but at the sensory organs we leave the simple -stuff behind. Take the eye, for instance." Merrol leaned away because -Dr. Crander seemed about to pluck one of Dan's eyes from its socket. -"Surgical and growth factors involved in splicing a massive nerve -bundle pass any layman's comprehension. There are no non-technical -terms to describe it." - - * * * * * - -It was just as well--Merrol didn't want a lecture. He extended his -arms. One was of normal length, the other longer. "Do you think you can -do something with this? I don't mind variation in thickness--some of -that will smooth out as I exercise--but I'd like them the same length." - -"There were many others injured at the same time, you know--and you -were one of the last to be extricated from the ship. Normally, when -we have to replace a whole arm, we do so at the shoulder for obvious -reasons. But the previously treated victims had depleted our supplies. -Some needed only a hand and we gave them just that, others a hand and -a forearm, and so on. When we got to you, we had to use leftovers or -permit you to die--there wasn't time to send to other hospitals. In -fact there wasn't any time at all--we actually thought you were dead, -but soon found we were wrong." - -Crander stared at a crack in the ceiling. "Further recovery will take -other operations and your nervous system isn't up to it." He shook his -head. "Five years from now, we can help you, not before." - -Merrol turned away miserably. There were other things, but he had -learned the essentials. He was Dan Merrol and there was nothing they -could do for him until it was too late. How long could he expect Erica -to wait? - -The doctor hadn't finished the medical session. "Replacement of body -parts is easy, after all. The big trouble came when we went into the -brain." - -"Brain?" Dan was startled. - -"How hard do you think your skull is?" Crander came closer. "Bend your -head." - -Merrol obeyed and could feel the doctor's forefinger slice across his -scalp in a mock operation. "This sector was crushed." Roughly half his -brain, it appeared. "That's why so many memories were gone--not just -from shock. In addition, other sectors were damaged and had to be -replaced." - -Crander traced out five areas he could feel, but not see. "Samuel -Kaufman, musician--Breed Mannly, cowboy actor--George Elkins, -lepidopterist--Duke DeCaesares, wrestler--and Ben Eisenberg, -mathematician, went into the places I tapped." - -Dan raised his head. Some things were clearer. The memories were -authentic, but they weren't his--nor did the other wives belong to him. -It was no wonder Erica had cringed at their names. - -"These donors were dead, but you can be thankful we had parts of their -brains available." Crander delved into the file and came up with a -sheet. - -"Here are some body part contributors." He read rapidly. "Dimwiddie, -Barton, Colton, Morton, Flam and Carnera were responsible for arms and -hands. Greenberg, Rochefault, Gonzalez, Tall-Cloud, Gowraddy and Tsin -supplied feet and legs." - - * * * * * - -He was not a man, Merrol thought. Not now. If anything, he was a -convention and one body was not a large enough hotel to hold it in -comfort. - -"These were the major human donors, but there were others I didn't -bother to read, for the kidneys and so on. And I think our four-footed -friends deserve some mention." He looked up. "The skin on your face is -from a pig embryo." - -That explained why it was hard to shave. "_Oink?_" he said. "I mean did -it have to be a pig?" - -"You'd be surprised how hard it is to transplant human skin," commented -Crander. "Besides, we wanted to give you a masculine look. The finest -face there is, genuine pigskin." - -Merrol felt like a wallet. - -The doctor droned on through the list, but Merrol scarcely listened. -Only once did he interrupt, to ask incredulously, "Did you say a -_horse_?" - -"Is there anything wrong with a horse?" - -Merrol thought back. Come to consider it, there was nothing wrong--in -fact, compliments were more in order. - -"The skill that went into matching the unrelated parts that are now -you is a landmark in medical history, quite comparable to Harvey's -discovery of the circulation of the blood," said Dr. Crander. "I -wouldn't believe it if I hadn't participated in it myself. There have -been limb and brain replacements before, but never on such a scale. One -of these days, we'll get out a report that will astound the medical -world." - -Without doubt, it would. Merrol tried to feel grateful, but gratitude -refused to come. They had saved him--but was it worth it? - -Puzzled, Crander frowned at the buzzer. He'd been pressing it -intermittently for the past few minutes. "Doesn't seem to be working," -he muttered, heading toward the door through which Merrol had entered. -"Wait here--I'll be back. I have to cancel an appointment." - - * * * * * - -As soon as the door closed, a voice behind Merrol hissed. "I fixed the -buzzer. He went for the guards." - -He whirled. Miss Jerrems stood in the doorway that led into the filing -room on the opposite side of the office. "Guards?" he repeated. - -"Of course--guards for the violent patients." - -"What does that have to do with me?" - -"You escaped once, didn't you?" - -He hadn't escaped, he had merely walked out when he felt he could. Did -that qualify him as violent? It might. "What of it? I'm no longer a -patient. The doctor said I had recovered." - -"That's what he said to _you_. But even if he means it, there's always -psychotherapy, post-re-growth orientation." - -Orientation--he hadn't thought of that. They'd want to keep him under -observation for several days and he had no desire to stay hospitalized. -Erica would come to the hospital in a few hours. Perhaps she was there -now, waiting to see someone. Come to think of it, he had got past the -receptionist with remarkable ease. At any rate, if she was insistent -about it, she must eventually get to see the evidence he had just -studied. - -And then there would be orientation--for both of them. - -Without doubt, he would be taught to accept himself as he was, and -Erica would be trained to look at him without laughter, and together -they would know that beneath his piebald exterior lurked a lovely -personality. Then, well adjusted, they would go home and live happily -ever after. Or would they? - -"Don't stand there, if you want to get away," Miss Jerrems whispered -urgently. "Next time they won't take any chances." - -They wouldn't. He would be confined to a room he couldn't break out of -with guards disguised as nurses. Blindly he moved toward the door. - -"Not there," she exclaimed. "Do you want to walk right into them? This -way. They won't look for you in here." She clasped his hand in her bony -fingers and led him through the maze of files to an elevator. "This -takes you to the ground floor," she said. "Once outside, you can get -away." - -He probably could--it was a large building and it would take a -prolonged search to determine that he was not inside it. - -She smiled peculiarly, clearing her throat. "Thirty-seven Brighton -Drive." - -Mechanically he repeated the number. "What is it?" - -"That's where you can find out." - -"Find out what?" - -"What they did to you here. I can't tell you now," she whispered -nervously. "Oh, _do_ hurry!" - -If he had to move fast, this seemed a good time. The elevator dropped -him to the street level and, looking cautiously around, he walked out. -In a few minutes, he was blocks away. It was mid-morning, and he swung -along, hands thrust into his jacket. There was a wad of paper inside -and he fished it out and examined it--money, neatly folded with a note -around it. - -The note was from Erica, saying that the money was meant for him. The -sum was not great, but she must have given him everything she had in -the house. Mistily, he counted it out. - - -III - -Dan hadn't been stopped and didn't expect to be. He wasn't a criminal, -but until the hospital released him, he was technically a mental case. -But Crander would hardly be anxious to report to the police that a -patient was missing--not until he had tried everything else. - -Merrol took the elevator. It was a bright new apartment building, which -conferred some social status and not much else on those living in it. - -Miss Jerrems opened the door. "Come in," she said, looking around -furtively as he slipped past her. - -He sat down gingerly, watching her scurry about. He tried to protest, -but nothing he said had any effect on her aggressive hospitality. -She thrust a cup of watery coffee in his hand and placed a tray of -breakfast rolls beside him. - -She sat facing him. Their knees almost touched--it was a narrow room. -"I came home at once," she said, not very successful in her attempt to -control her excitement. "I told them I was upset and, after my long -years of service, they didn't question me. I tore my dress and told -them you had done it. I said that you ran up toward the top of the -building." - -He appreciated her motives, but thought she shouldn't have tried so -hard to convince them. Now they had reason to think he was violent. - -"Until today, I've been devoted to Doctor Crander," she said sternly. - -He recalled the first look on her face in the doctor's office--and the -one after she had seen him. In seconds, her whole attitude had changed. -Why? - -"I heard what he told you." She hissed the word--"Lies." - -Dan stared at her skeptically. "They didn't do what he said?" - -"Oh, the facts were straight enough," she said bitterly. "It was the -reasons he concealed. They thought you didn't have a chance, so they -did all sorts of strange things they never tried on anyone else. You -were an experiment, that's all--but you surprised them." - -The hospital was looking for the wrong mental case. They had one -working for them and didn't know it. He didn't doubt that she was -right--about his being an experiment--but her observations were wrong. -It was due entirely to their unorthodox procedures that he was alive. - -She looked him over carefully and he knew that the halves of his face -didn't match by a ridiculous margin, that one shoulder was heavier than -the other, that his hair was in three colors. Even in repose and fully -clothed, so that some of the discrepancies of his physique were hidden, -he was hardly presentable. - -"When I saw you standing there today, I realized what they had done to -you and my loyalty to the institution and the doctor vanished," she -said earnestly. "And the psychotherapy isn't to help you, it's to make -sure you won't protest over what they've done. That's why I had to get -you away. They've ruined you and now _you_ must ruin _them_." - -He had half-suspected it would come to this--but he hadn't been sure. -"I don't want to ruin them," he said slowly. "I'd rather be alive, even -as an experiment. And if you're thinking of a malpractice suit, you saw -the files. I couldn't win against that." - -"I ought to know about the files--I worked on them." Her eyes sparkled -and her voice lowered. "What if the evidence is missing?" - - * * * * * - -He sat back. With her co-operation, the vital parts of the file could -vanish and, with that gone, he could collect a staggering amount from -the institution. He had only to appear and no jury or panels of experts -would decide against him. Is that what she had planned so swiftly -in the director's office--that she would share the money with him? -Somehow, he couldn't believe money meant that much to her. "I can't -permit it," he said. "In spite of everything, I feel obligated." - -She flung herself across the narrow space. "I expected you to be -noble," she sobbed. "One look at you, and I knew I had met the -loneliest person in the world." - -Like called to like, at least for her, and that explained why she had -grimaced when she had first seen him. It was her counterpart of the -receptionist's reaction. It explained, too, why she was willing to turn -against the doctor she had previously adored. As for the money, she -didn't want it for herself, but as bait for him--and he'd have to take -her with it. - -She had guessed wrong on all counts. He would have thrust her away, but -it would have been too cruel. He tried to comfort her, and she dried -her eyes on his shoulder. "Darling," she sniffled. "I've never yielded -to any man, but if it will help you...." - -She pressed close and he couldn't get away without breaking through -the thin walls of the cramped apartment. He had never known a female -form could be shaped around so many bones. "These things take time," he -said, though they didn't. "Let's not rush into anything we'll regret." -He seemed to arouse the motherly instinct in some women, if only in the -future tense. - -Presently, she sat up, blowing her nose and looking ardently at him -through tear-rimmed eyes. "You can stay here. You've no place else to -go, and they'll be looking for you." - -"Well," he said--but it was true. He shouldn't be wandering on the -streets. - -He slept that night on a sink that converted to a bed. It would have -been more comfortable unconverted. - - * * * * * - -He crept out in the morning before she was awake. He paused outside -to scribble a note, principally to throw her off his track. You never -could tell with so unstable a person. Implicated in his escape, she -might nevertheless report to the hospital. He shoved the note under the -door and left quickly and quietly. - -His first move was to buy a hat, which entailed further trouble. The -doctors had overcompensated in replacing the missing brain tissue and, -in piecing a skull together, had constructed an outsized head on which -nothing seemed to fit. By careful shopping, he found something that did -fit and, when he'd clapped it on, he happily noted it concealed the -tricolor hair ... one item less to attract attention. - -He ate and afterward walked to the rocketport. It was a long distance -and formerly he might have complained, but now he didn't mind it. The -miles seemed to have shrunk to furlongs. - -He found the big _Interplanet_ sign and examined the place minutely -from the outside. Once he had worked there, technically he still did. -Some memories came back, but not many. He needed at least an hour -inside to enable him to forget the hospital and its psychotherapy. - -Once cleared, he would be free for a while to concentrate on what to do -about Erica. - -The hospital evidently had yet to call in the police. He was still safe -on the streets, but the medicos must have notified _Interplanet_ and -all other places at which he might show up. However, the company was -too big for everyone to know about him this soon. More likely there -would be only a few who could have information on him as yet. The trick -was to bypass those individuals who might try to detain him and still -get where he wanted. - -Normally, he'd go to the front office after an accident. This time, he -went to the side gate and when the guard looked at him questioningly, -mumbled, "Reporting for duty." Which got him through. - -Inside, there were more memories awaiting him. Depending on them, he -walked rapidly through hall after hall and finally found the desk he -sought. The man behind it looked up. "Are you sure you're in the right -place?" he asked. - -Merrol would soon know. "Reporting for duty," he stated. - -This reply elicited a puzzled expression. "The devil you are. We -haven't hired anyone new." - -"I'm not new. I've been injured, and this is my first time back. Dan -Merrol's my name." - -"Okay, where's your slip?" - -"Slip?" he asked, stalling. This was something he ought to know about, -but didn't. - -"Sure, the release from the front office after an injury." - -"They said they'd send it down," he replied, holding his breath. - - * * * * * - -The clerk pawed through the stack. "They don't send nothing down," he -growled. "I'll call and find out." His hand reached out and then he -relaxed. "No use bothering them, it'll get here tomorrow." He looked up -and laughed. "Red tape," he said by way of explanation. "Why should I -doubt you? If you said they released you, then they did." - -Merrol was glad to see one man who wasn't impressed by office routines. -Still, his behavior was a little puzzling. - -The man screened on. The communication unit was behind the desk, tilted -so he couldn't see it. The volume was low, but Dan could hear the -conversation from this end. "Got a case for you. Name is Dan Merrol. I -don't know, he's before my time." - -The reply was faint and Dan didn't catch it. But the clerk added, "He -seems okay. What? Sure he's got a release. Would I send him in?" - -He cut the connection and looked up. "Go over to Psych. They'll test -you. If you pass, we'll put you back on schedule." He started to turn -away and saw Merrol standing there. "What's the matter?" - -"I don't know where Psych is." - -"I see. We must have moved things since you were here." The man got up -and pointed. "Down there and turn left at the second corner. You can't -miss." - -The examiner was scanning a card as he entered. "Lots of experience," -he commented. "We'll pass over the written stuff. That's for kids, to -make sure they've studied their lessons. After you've been out this -long, you can almost feel a course faster than anyone can figure it." - -It was a relief. Merrol didn't know how much theory he remembered, but -was sure he could still lift a ship as well as the next man. - -The examiner made a notation on the card and tossed it into a machine -that snapped it up and clicked furiously over it. "Let's take the -biggest thing first, if you're up to it." - -"I feel fine." It was not true, but it was the customary answer. -Anything else, and he'd be shunted off into a series of meaningless -tests, each designed to verify the results of previous tests. An -ingenious scheme rigged up by the psych crew in their spare time -to see how complicated they could make any given system. Answered -straightforwardly, they rushed a man through with a minimum of -officiousness. - -"Okay, let's take the trip." - -He accompanied Dan into a room unlike the others. For one thing, it -might have been the control room of a ship. Forward, there was the -usual clear view. The stars were there too, in an adaptation of the -planetarium. Outside, arranged to give any effect from top acceleration -to free fall, were a number of gravity coils. Except for the pilot--and -Merrol would play that role--there was a full complement of officers -who were invisible. - - * * * * * - -The tester flicked on a machine. "I'll give you Mars, because that's -your usual run. This is a short drive, because you're in a favorable -position. Got it?" - -Merrol nodded and climbed into the seat, facing the instruments. - -"I've turned on the best crew simulators, better than you'd ever -actually get. Don't worry about them, just take the data and flit the -way you think you should." The tester clamped a mike inches away and -adjusted the visio-recorders firmly on his head, where electron beams -could sneak in and tap his optic centers. "The first trip after you've -been away is rough, but you'll make it." - -Merrol strapped himself in and hoped the other man was right. - -The examiner went to the door, turned and grinned. "Watch out for the -interplanetary goose," he called and snapped the switch. - -Merrol was now in a ship. In the back of his mind there was some doubt -of his ability, but it didn't reach as far as his fingers. Rockets -vibrated beneath him. Outside, he could see the glazed earth-slick. He -touched the power and climbed above the clouds. The sky turned black -and there were stars. - -He checked position. The tester had given him a setup. The Moon was -out of the way and the run to Mars was the shortest on record. If he -couldn't handle this, he wasn't a pilot. - -The seat jabbed him suddenly. That's what he'd been warned about--he'd -been expecting it and still wasn't prepared. The tempathy drugs flooded -into him and the needle was withdrawn. - -Takeoff and landing were always rehearsed on the pilot's own time. -The ends of a voyage were critical and it was essential to have an -undistorted reaction. Besides, neither took long. - -The time between one planet and the next was long and nothing much -happened, so it could be shortened without deleterious effect on the -results. Tempathy drugs shortened it, though not completely. Part of a -man's consciousness went along at normal speed and the rest, that which -counted in jockeying rockets, was enormously telescoped. - -It telescoped on Merrol. He couldn't see. Rather, part of him could -but, for the other fraction, images passed in front of his eyes too -fast for his mind to evaluate. Weeks flipped past in minutes. It -was a dream world turned inside out--the roles of consciousness and -unconsciousness were reversed. - -There was something wrong with the sounds he half-heard. He could get -emotions, though he couldn't separate them into sense. There were -additional voices that shouldn't be there--the mechanical crew spoke to -him giving silent data--but there were other actual voices, fearful or -consolatory. He tried to speak, but his vocal cords were preempted. - -He was doing it all, speaking, moving the controls, directing the ship -between planets. It ought to be easier than takeoff, but it wasn't. He -shouldn't be afraid of anything he might find out there--which was -nothing--but that didn't alter conditions. He was profoundly disturbed, -and he hoped the tester noticed it. - -The examiner did spot trouble. He opened the door and reversed the -switch. Lights went on, and another needle speared him, counteracting -the effects of the tempathy drugs. Slowly the ship disappeared, space -along with it, and the room whirled back into view and settled down. -Something handed him back his eyes and ears. - -"Easy," said the man. "Sit there. You don't have to move. We'll find -out what's wrong. It may not be serious at all." - - * * * * * - -Unhooking the visio-recorder, the tester also swung the mike away. "You -were doing fine," he said. "Never saw anything smoother. About here, -though, you seemed to be having difficulty. We'll slow it down and see -what it was." - -He snapped the reels in place and darkened the room. On the screen -was the vision-port and, through it, a view of Mars. A fleck of light -glittered, grew, became a cloud, a swarm. A swarm? - -"God!" said the tester, bewildered. "A billion butterflies! How could -you imagine butterflies, twenty million miles from a planet?" - -Merrol squirmed--he didn't know either. What was wrong with him to make -him dream up butterflies? - -The examiner switched the film off and the lights on. "So you missed -them--why, I don't know." He fiddled with another machine. "We'll slow -down the sound, synchronize the two of them later, but maybe by itself -the sound will give us a clue as to what happened." - -"What's that?" It came from the sound track, but it was Merrol's voice. - -"Those are lepidoptera." Another voice, also his, though of different -pitch and timbre--his, because he was the only one there to speak. -"I've always dreamed of discovering a new species and at last I have, -since these can fly through space. What strange adaptations they have -made. Aren't they beautiful?" - -He answered. "They won't be when I plow through them. The rockets will -fry them." - -"Turn aside!" shouted the lepidopterist. "You can't destroy them." - -"I'm going to act as if this were not happening," said a cultured -voice. "_Bang-bang!_" - -"This is upsetting," said a different person. "Since I have -no instrument, I'll listen with my memory to a Bach concerto. -Unfortunately, it ends in the middle of the third movement, as though -it has been sliced through with a knife that separated one note cleanly -from the next. Still, it's better to have this than nothing." - -"Your computers are awfully slow," said the fifth. "I'll figure out a -new course for us." - -"Gimme the controls," said the wrestler. "I'll turn the ship, if I -hafta do it with my bare hands." - -The examiner snapped off the sound and busied himself with things that -may have been necessary. "You don't have to sit there," he said after a -while. "Wait outside." He glanced down, "Be careful when you move, the -control column will fall off. Didn't know it could be broken." - -As he got out of the seat, the examiner slapped his back. "Tell you -what, fellow--don't wait--go now to the Compensation Board and see -about retirement." - - -IV - -Merrol sat in the room where he had been sitting for a day and a half -since the psych test. He had walked out immediately, found a room and -was still in it. It wasn't comfortable, sitting. Whichever position was -right for the bend of one knee was wrong for the other. - -He had depended on the test to get him out of a jam, but the stratagem -had failed. If he had passed, he'd have been another experienced pilot -for the _Interplanet_ string and that meant something. Experienced men -were valuable and I. P. would have gone to bat for him. - -Not everyone could pass the test and, while it didn't prove that the -man who did was one hundred per cent sane, it was a big argument -in that direction. It was evidence that would have to be respected -publicly, whatever private doubts a psychotherapist might have. - -Unwittingly, he had provided additional ammunition against himself. -When the results of the test sifted through the layers of red tape to -the front office, _Interplanet_ would contact the hospital, which would -then really want to orient him to a frazzle. - -Orientation sounded nice but it was not for Merrol. If they could -orient everyone he would come in contact with as well--but how much -insulation could a man build up against involuntary laughter? It was -fine to be a comedian on the screen and then step out of character -and relax--but what if you couldn't stop? Nobody could adjust to the -constant expectation of hysterical mirth. But wasn't that a reason -to undergo psychotherapy, so they could blunt the edges of his own -reactions? It ought to be, but somehow it wasn't. He didn't dare -submit. - -There was a difference, apparently determined by sex, in the way -people behaved toward him. No man had thus far done more than smile -respectfully while he was near. What they did later, he could guess. -Face to face, they seemed to be reserved and incredulous until they -learned to accept him as a member of their species and sex and -then--how _did_ they act? It would take more than casual thinking to -puzzle _that_ out. - -Women saw the big joke instantly and giggled, and he couldn't blame -them. Seconds later, they smirked contritely and tried to touch him, as -if contact could atone for their behavior. _They_ noticed appearance at -all times, whereas men didn't as a rule of their own sex. - -He paused to re-examine his thoughts. Something seemed to be missing in -his analysis. What it was, he couldn't tell. It would have to come out -later, as he mingled more with people--if he ever did. - - * * * * * - -And that wasn't all. He had been a pilot, but never would be one -again. His skill had been destroyed by the intrusion of five other -personalities, who each brought his own odd bit of useless knowledge to -the whole Merrol. He should have expected it, but he hadn't, nor had -the doctors. - -It was obvious--the brain slices that had replaced his own damaged -tissues had to be in healthy condition or they'd never have functioned -properly--and what did those medical fools think was the function of -any brain? He was in command of the group brain because his was the -dominant fraction, but when he sat down and thought about it, what good -did it do? He was sitting down and it didn't do any good, so he got up. - -He took two paces across the room and looked out the window, into -windows that looked into his. Compensation was coming to him. -Ultimately, he'd divide it with Erica and go away. She must know by now -that the man she had spent the night with was actually her own husband. -Intellectually she must have decided to accept him. - -He wasn't noble, though. Much as he wanted her, he knew he couldn't -live with anyone who had to stifle her laughter when he stepped out of -the bath or into bed. - -He walked the carpet aimlessly until, through the window, he caught a -word from the telecast in the next apartment. He thought it sounded -familiar. He yanked the louvers closed and grunted, but it didn't -help--the word bothered him. He reached out the long arm to turn on his -own screen. - -A face came into view and a man's voice whispered. Merrol turned up the -volume, but it didn't get any louder. It was the low-pressure soothing -type. Whatever he was selling, it was a welcome change. - -The announcer smiled reassuringly. "Actually, I'm talking to one -person. The rest of you may listen or not for the next five minutes, -after which I'll have something to say to you." It was a clever -approach to insure that the audience didn't switch programs. - -"Dan Merrol, this is a personal message to you." Merrol sat up. - -"We'd call you if we could, but this is a large city and you've simply -vanished. We have operatives trying to trace you, but with no success -up to now." The announcer leaned forward confidentially. - -"Now, Dan, before you become alarmed, let me say you've done nothing -wrong. In fact, at _Interplanet_, we think you've done everything -right--but I'll come to that later." - - * * * * * - -Interplanet? Then it wasn't the hospital or the police. What could I. -P. want of him? - -"No doubt the test you took was somewhat of a shock. Don't blame the -psych examiner for the conclusions he formed--he can't be expected to -know more than the leading psychologists. You're probably curious as -to what this test has to do with you and _Interplanet_. We hope so--we -want you to keep on listening. - -"The test proved you're no longer a competent pilot--but it also -indicated something much bigger. Dan, _you_ are the answer to a problem -that has been bothering us for generations. Before the accident, you -knew nothing of music or any life science, your math was adequate but -not deep, you often felt awkward in the presence of others when you had -no need to and you lacked confidence in your physical ability. - -"Suddenly, you gained something of each and, when we contacted your -doctors, we were able to surmise how it happened. Now you ask--what -good does this do you and what is the problem to which this is the -answer? - -"Simply this--_specialization_. You know what constitutes a rocket -crew--pilot, radio man, engineer and several lesser technicians, each -of whom knows only his own job. Although you'll never sit at the -controls again--through you, we can help others." - -The announcer lowered his voice now. "You can unlock specialization -for us. In the future, each man will concentrate on what particular -aptitudes he has, then share it, via surgery, with others whose -knowledge complements his own. To do this, we need to study you further -and, of course, we'll pay you well for the opportunity. In addition, -you'll still get your compensation. Please come and talk it over with -us. - -"Frankly, we're a little worried about what you may be thinking. If -you have any thoughts of self-destruction because of what must seem a -strange condition, put them aside. You're much saner than the average -man." - - * * * * * - -Merrol listened, smiling at the remark. No matter what they thought, he -couldn't seriously contemplate suicide. There were too many others to -dissuade him. - -Nevertheless, it was hard to understand and accept the sudden change of -his status. He had formerly been a mere employee, but now.... - -The announcer hadn't finished. "In the beginning, Dan, I said you had -done everything right, whether you knew it or not. After we learned -what we did from your test, we checked through our files and found -that we had a few other accident cases on record in which part of -the brain had been replaced. In each case there was a faint trace of -another personality, which we could detect when we knew what to look -for. We rechecked each person we could locate. Unfortunately, the -latent personalities and their share of knowledge had been submerged -beyond recovery by the rigorous psychotherapy the accident victim had -undergone after surgery." - - * * * * * - -The imaginary Wysocki's theorem of self-therapy. He never knew of -anyone by that name, nor had he got it from one of the other five. But, -however nonsensically he had invented it to express the needs he felt -at the time, it was, in fact, not nonsense. When it came to that, who -knew anything about six minds packaged together--and what could have -been done to him in ignorance? - -The announcer was finished talking to Dan Merrol alone. "Remember, -all of you," he said briskly. "This man is neither a criminal -nor insane. He is extremely withdrawn, as a result of unpleasant -experiences. If you can induce him to come to _Interplanet_, or lead -our representatives to him, you will receive a substantial reward. Here -is his picture." - -Merrol turned off the screen and scowled. He didn't like that last. -He intended to take their offer, but he wanted to be free to walk -the streets. He could settle that easily enough by just calling -_Interplanet_. They'd send someone down to whisk him away. That would -solve all his problems--or would it? - -Certainly, it eliminated orientation or any form of psychotherapy. -After what had happened to the others, the psychologists would be -content merely to observe what went on in his mind. They wouldn't want -to give him much privacy, but he'd have to insist on it. They'd listen. - -This could be just a job, a very good job while it lasted--say three or -four years--until they had learned all they need to know. Perhaps there -would be other men blended more scientifically than he had been. But he -could accumulate enough money to last the rest of his life, or perhaps -turn his many new talents to something else. There were many things he -would like to do, and he was ahead of everyone else now, even though in -three or four years he would no longer be unique. - -Except, of course, in his body. - -And there it was again. Was there nothing he could do to get away from -it? - -He had no memory of Erica except for the one night, but it was enough -to convince him. What would their future be like in what was sure to -follow? After that broadcast, he would be a person of some note, but -would that stop laughter? Would she wait until he left the room before -she giggled? - -He'd come to terms with _Interplanet_, but first he had to come to -terms with himself ... and he hadn't. - -How good was his imaginary Wysocki's theorem? Could it take one last -extension? He counted what was left of the money Erica had given him. -It wasn't much, but with it he could leave the city. And he had to. - - -V - -It was dusk when he slipped out of the room and later still when the -plane lifted away from the station. It was an ancient jet, long since -relegated to cheap overnight service where speed was not a factor and -price was. - -He knew he was taking a chance and half expected to be stopped, but -apparently not many people had listened to the broadcast. Casual -glances slid off him and didn't linger. Partly, he suspected, because -he had pulled his hat over his face and thrust his hands in the jacket. -He'd gotten away in time, but by the morning there would be people on -the streets looking for him. - -He stared at the approximation of a port. When this ship had been -built, there was some feeling against the practice and so the row of -picture tubes had been camouflaged as ports in the wall. There was a -station selector switch, but none for _on_ or _off_. He glowered at the -picture at his elbow and turned to the least annoying thing he could -find. Across the aisle, there were three other programs he could see -distinctly. The one directly opposite was a repeat of the broadcast -he had heard a few hours previously. He scowled and looked away. If -it hadn't been a night plane, in which people sought sleep, he would -certainly have been spotted. Apathy was his best protection. He hunched -down in his seat and dozed off. - -When he awakened, the familiar _Interplanet_ program was at his elbow. -He reached to change stations, then on impulse let his hand continue -past the knob until he felt the ash tray. He unfastened the heavy -article and poked it through the screen. - -The glass broke, but only a few in the immediate vicinity heard it in -the din. To those who stared at him, he presented a view of his back or -the profile of his hat. They glanced at him indifferently, then looked -away. Outside the orifice, where the tube had been in the outer of two -walls, was an actual port. He gazed through it contentedly. - -A finger tapped him. "Yes?" he said in a loud voice. - -The man behind him leaned over. "I've been riding in this plane once a -week for five years. I mean, would you mind if I looked out? I've never -seen where I'm going." - -"Glad to have you." - -The man sat beside him and peered wistfully out. Below were lights, -the patterns of cities, roads and towns and in the distance the glare -of furnaces. There was also a current of cold air seeping from the -space between the double walls. The man looked, shivered, turned up his -collar and finally went back to his seat. - -It was cold, but Merrol remained where he was. There was some -satisfaction in asserting himself, but the satisfaction wore off and -the cold didn't. - -His attention was caught by the program which was flickering across the -aisle. Doctor Crander--Merrol frowned. Did the hospital want him too? -He listened intently. No, they didn't want him. - - * * * * * - -Crander sounded tired. "This is an emergency appeal and we'll need a -wide response. We have in our care a person with a serious illness we -can't diagnose. With so much interplanetary travel we can't determine -what causes the disease. It may be an organism from a moon of Saturn or -almost anything else. - -"Our staff is working at top speed. We feel, if we can keep her alive -for one week, she'll be out of danger. That is by no means a certainty, -but a reasonably accurate forecast. - -"We have a new theory, largely untested, but we hope it will work. -Each person differs from the next and though, when we match limbs and -organs, we try to take this into account, we never quite succeed in -effecting a perfect biological match. As a result, the character of the -blood changes, slightly but significantly. It's as if we had lumped -together the various natural immunities of the component bodies and -created an entirely new super-immunity." - -Crander paused. "We need persons who have had five or more major -replacements. By major, I mean hands, arms, legs or parts of -them--nothing so trivial as ears, or a few feet of skin, or three or -four fingers. - -"It must be at least five, though more are correspondingly better. -Nothing less--and please don't apply with only a minor replacement. Two -donors have volunteered so far and we have fractioned and administered -the blood of one with dramatic, if temporary, results. In a few hours, -we'll have to use the second. After that, I don't know what we'll do." - -Merrol stirred. He was deeply suspicious. - -"Here's the woman," said Crander. "She needs your help." - -The man across the aisle leaned forward and his head was in front of -the picture. Merrol tried to see, but couldn't. - -"It's up to you," said Crander as he faded from the screen. - -Merrol tapped the man across the aisle. "Please repeat it." - -The man glanced around and saw who it was. "Aw, you're the guy who -doesn't like that stuff." He jerked his head at the broken screen. - -The memory cell of the picture tube didn't have a long attention span. -It could recall forty-five seconds of the past program and no longer. -The broadcast might be repeated, or it might not. Did he want to wait? - -He reached out his arm--the long one--and fastened onto the man's -jacket, giving him a short rough shove. - -"Repeat it, I said!" - -The man looked down. He wasn't small himself, but it was a large -fist. "Sure thing," he said, jabbing the repeat button. The scene was -replayed. - -"Thanks," said Merrol, letting go. - -The man looked at his crumpled clothing. "Not at all," he muttered, -sliding away against the wall. "Don't mention it." - - * * * * * - -The woman was Erica. It was too much of a coincidence that, among so -many millions in the city, she should be the one. The hospital and -_Interplanet_ were working together and now they had brought in Erica. -How gullible did they think he was and how much had they offered her -for this? It might not be money, though--they might have convinced -her it was to Dan's own best interest that they get in touch with him -immediately. - -They were baiting him crudely and if they weren't, there were others -who could respond as well as he. There must be hundreds in the -vicinity, scores at any rate, who could qualify. There were enough -without him, depending on how often the blood fraction was needed. -Crander hadn't said. It was a trick and Erica wasn't ill--or if she -was, she would be safe without him. He had to make up his mind before -he saw her, and he couldn't. He clenched his hands, both big and -little. He had stretched Wysocki's theorem too far and it had failed. - -"I had a wife once." The voice startled him, but he sat still, hoping -to hear it again. Maybe they would tell him what to do. "Not so slender -as Erica. Rather bouncy, in fact, but I liked her. Pity she ran away -with a coleopterist. Never could understand what she saw in him." The -voice grew sad. "_Beetles!_" - -"My advice is that wives are easily come by," said a theatrical voice, -modulated for effect. "But before he shuffles off this mortal coil to -the last roundup, every man should have at least one wife like Erica." - -"I can't speak of wives or women," said the musician. "There's so -little memory left, mostly music. But you've been subconsciously -humming a tune for days--and I must tell you that Beethoven didn't -write anything called Erica. The correct title is Eroica." - -"One fall don't mean nothing, it's always the best two out of three. -The way I see it, you gotta get up. Get close to them, hold them tight, -or they'll throw you outta the ring." - -"This is something that can't be figured. There are some odds no one -can live by. You'll have to solve this one yourself." - -He sat there, not moving. They were with him always, but sometimes they -weren't much help. - -The plane would land on the other side of the continent. He had little -money, but he could get in touch with _Interplanet_ and they would -advance him the fare back. Unfortunately, such a move would take time. -There would be schedules to juggle, to say nothing of the ride back. A -mere matter of hours on a fast ship--yet what if that was too long? - - * * * * * - -He got to his feet and went forward. "You can't go in there," said the -stewardess. - -He looked past her into the pilot's compartment. It was securely locked -from this side though not on the other. He glanced down at the girl. -It was a tradition that stewardesses were gorgeous creatures, though -the tradition was simply not true any longer. In an age of space -exploration, air travel had dispensed with glamor. But for unfathomable -reasons, this stewardess was a throwback to the old days. If she didn't -quite achieve real beauty, she came close enough so that no healthy -male could conceivably object to her nearness. - -Merrol could take the keys away from her, but she'd scream and a dozen -men would come leaping to her rescue. He didn't care for the odds. - -He had met three women and had he misjudged the effect of the -new himself on them? First Erica--her behavior had been strange, -considering that, even from the first, she must have doubted he -was her husband. Then the receptionist--she _had_ gone out of her -way to get him into Crander's office when the latter was upset by -the disappearance of a patient. And finally, the pathetic Miss -Jerrems, who had thawed and would have descended to crooked schemes, -had he encouraged her. Was this some form of pity or something -quite different--or did it matter at all as long as they were not -indifferent? There was a way to find out. - -He raised his arm, the shorter one, and laid his hand affectionately on -the stewardess' shoulder. "Isn't there a private room in back?" - -She tilted her head and her lips glistened. "Yes, there is." - -"Small enough for two?" - -"I believe so." Her lashes trembled and lowered and she seemed -surprised that they did. "That is if you--if we snuggled close." - -"I'm sure we will. Why don't you find out about that room?" - -"It seems like a good idea." She blushed and turned to leave. - -"I'll need keys, won't I?" he said. - -She leaned against him and the keys dropped into his hand. "I'll be -waiting," she whispered. He watched her walk down the aisle and enjoyed -the enticing sway of her hips. Under other circumstances, he might -have considered joining her. - -He had the keys! It had worked! He didn't know why, nor did he have -time to think about it. He inserted the key and stepped inside. - -"Hi, Jane," sang out the pilot, not turning, assuming he knew who it -was. - -Merrol located the autopilot switch and, reaching past the man, turned -it on. With the same motion he whirled the pilot around. "Listen, -friend, don't you want to go back?" - -"No. Why should I?" The pilot was startled, but not intimidated. - -"Engine trouble or something. You figure it out. I don't care -what it is, as long as we get back." He half-hoped the man would -object--physical action would be a relief. In an emergency, he could -handle the ship himself--it was simpler than a spaceship. - - * * * * * - -The pilot squinted beyond and behind him. "Engines don't sound so -good," he muttered. He was unexpectedly docile. "Safety first is the -motto of this airline." It was a good rule, but it was questionable -whose safety he was referring to. - -The pilot was still having unaccountable difficulty with his -eyes--there was a marked tendency to cross. "Sure, we'll go back," he -said. "Glad you brought it to my attention. But call off your gang, -will you, mister?" - -Merrol turned around. He was alone. There was no one behind him, though -the pilot seemed convinced there was. - -He had a partial answer to the pilot's strange reaction. He was a -multiple personality and, normally latent, in times of stress the -multi-personality became dominant and impressed itself psychologically -on the observer. And if the mind received the impression of several -men, the eye tried hard to produce evidence that would confirm it. - -Not everyone was as successful at self-hypnosis as the pilot, but -the temptation toward it was always there. Now that he thought of -it, men never had laughed at him. Instead they had been respectful. -He apparently had an unsettling effect on those of his own sex he -came in contact with--just how powerful it was, he didn't know yet. -The complete answer would have to await investigation by trained -psychologists. - -Women were different. They invariably laughed first--Erica too, in -spite of the general sympathy she must have felt for him. In what did -the difference lie? That too he would have to determine--later. - -The pilot looked at him dizzily, beseechingly. Merrol decided he must -be pouring it on, though he felt no different. "Remember, I can get up -here in an awful hurry," said Merrol, "so no tricks." The pilot nodded -and clung helplessly to the controls. He wouldn't cause any trouble. -Merrol raised his arm in a gesture. "Come on, fellows." - -As an afterthought, he locked the stewardess in the private compartment -and, as he did so, he could feel the plane swing in a wide arc that -would take them to the station they had started from. The apathetic -dozing passengers didn't even notice. - -And then all six of him walked back to his seat and Merrol sat down. - - -VI - -He slid out of the plane while it was still rolling. He didn't want to -argue with the passengers, when they found they were on the wrong coast -and he was to blame. Nor did he particularly want to explain to the -authorities. Later he would have to, but by then he would have powerful -interests behind him to smooth over the incident. - -It was late and there were no cabs in sight, in air or on surface. He -crossed the landing strip into the station and out of it and swept -along the dark streets with a loose-jointed stride that made the -distance seem less than it was. Presently, he broke into a trot and his -speed was encouraging. - -A hoppicopter--one of the little surface cars that could rise and -fly for a short time to avoid traffic jams--bounced down and rolled -alongside. A window slid open and a head popped out. "In a hurry, -mister?" - -He bobbed his head. "Hospital." - -"Jump in and we'll take you. We're not doing anything special--just -riding around." The hoppicopter stopped. This was luck--he'd get there -faster. - -The man in the front seat opened the door and stepped out, flashing a -light on him. "Just a check. We don't mind taking you, but we want to -be sure we don't pick up some rough character." - -The man didn't look so gentle himself--and the light was trained on Dan -too long. If they were afraid, he'd have to refuse their offer and go -on. - -"Hey, Carl," the man with the flash called out puzzledly. "Haven't we -seen this guy somewhere before?" - -He should have expected something like this and not stopped--but maybe -it would have been worse if he hadn't. So far, he had been lucky that -no one had spotted him--and now was not the time to be discussing -terms with _Interplanet_. He began to edge away. - -Carl climbed out of the hoppicopter and circled in the same direction -Merrol was inching toward. "I guess I have at that," said Carl slowly. -He was a big man. "Can't say where, though." - -Merrol breathed more easily. He couldn't make a break for it, but -perhaps he wouldn't have to. They might not have seen the broadcast. -"I've got to hurry," he said. "I'll go on." - -"Don't get sore," said Carl soothingly. "We'll take you. Climb in." - -The man with the light was frowning indecisively. "The guy on the -broadcast?" he asked sharply. - -"Nah," said Carl disgustedly. "That guy--you look at his picture and -you have to bust out laughing. Now this fellow here--while he's a -long way from handsome--is clearly the executive type, a man you can -trust." Carl scrutinized him thoughtfully. Before Merrol could stop -him, he reached out and plucked off the hat. "There's only one guy with -three-colored hair, though, and you've got it," he said unbelievingly. - -Merrol started to back away, but the body of the hoppicopter stopped -him. - -"Mister, you've sure got some disguise," said the other man in an awed -voice. "I could look right at you all day and not tell who it was." - - * * * * * - -It was no disguise, it was the multi-personality again. No one looked -quite the same in real life as in a picture, because the personality -was missing. And with him the difference was far more marked. The -camera could register his features accurately, but men couldn't, not -when he was actually there to inspire trust and respect--and he did -arouse those emotions. Added together, these were some of the reasons -why he hadn't hitherto been recognized. - -"Sorry to have bothered you," he said, pushing between them as they -converged on him. "I'm in a hurry." - -"Sure, sure," said Carl, apologetically, moving aside. - -"But he's money!" the man with the flashlight cried in an anguished -voice. - -"So he is!" said Carl. The vision of money seemed to carry a lot of -weight with him. He seemed reluctant to act, but he reached out and -swung Merrol around. "We'll take you to _Interplanet_ and then you can -go to the hospital. Don't worry, we aren't going to do nothing. It -don't _pay_ us to hurt you." - -Their original intentions were probably sincere, but now that they -thought they'd found money on the street, they weren't willing to let -it go. But Merrol was not going to accompany them to _Interplanet_. He -jerked away. - -"We'll split the reward," said Carl. "Too bad we got to carry him in." - -Merrol tried to elude him, but Carl caught his arm in a bone-cracking -hold. That is, it ought to have splintered bone. That it didn't was not -due to lack of skill, but to the proportions of the arm to which it was -applied. The advantage of leverage went to Merrol and he used it. He -broke loose and swung the long arm with the large fist and Carl went -down. - -The man with the light dropped it, climbed on Merrol's back and was -pounding away at a nerve. Had he found the nerve, Merrol might have -crumpled to the street. He didn't find it, because it wasn't there. The -nerve had been surgically rerouted. - -Merrol peeled him off and tossed him on top of Carl. He tossed him -harder than he meant to and neither man moved. - -He climbed into the hoppicopter and rolled it through the dark streets. -They had caused him to lose time and for this they would forfeit the -use of their 'copter. They could pick it up in the morning, if they -felt like claiming it. He got out and hurried into the hospital. - -He met others in the corridors--it was a busy place in spite of the -lateness--but the first person he recognized was Erica. "Dan!" she -said. She didn't use anything scientific, but the hold on him was -harder to break than judo. Perhaps because he didn't want to. - -Later, he became aware of someone tapping his shoulder. He turned -around. "These things can be consummated in the privacy of one's own -home," murmured Doctor Crander. "But when a life is at stake, passion -should be put aside." - -The purely physical elation began to fade. He put Erica down, but -uncertainly holding onto her. It was an ambivalent gesture. "Is this -what you call an emergency?" he asked sarcastically. He had broken a -number of minor laws and nearly his own neck in getting here. He had a -right to be angry, though he was not sure how he felt. - -The doctor gave him a scandalized look. "Do you think we're unethical? -There is such a woman as we described, one of our staff. We do have -other donors, but we think you can do more for her. In a fit of -despondency, this woman wandered into the extraterrestrial room without -the customary protection, hoping to catch something--and she did." -Crander frowned. "The only way we altered facts was to use your wife's -photo. It was her idea. Furthermore, it is true that a pretty girl gets -a better response--and, of course, Erica wanted you back." - -When he learned who the patient was, he was satisfied with his -decision. After the blood fraction had been administered to Miss -Jerrems, even his untrained eyes could see the improvement. - - * * * * * - -He watched Erica suspiciously as she pattered about in a state of -dishabille that did nothing to enhance her beauty but, perversely, -made her more exciting. That she had been uncertain as to his identity -the last time meant little and he could forgive it. Man and wife were -not thereby distinct species, separate to themselves, unattracted or -repelled by all others of the opposite sex. For himself, he had only to -remember the stewardess. - -But it was important to know what her true feelings toward him were. -Laughter at the wrong time could be disastrous to a man's ego! - -"This time, you know there's no mistake," he said, hoping that irony -was some protection. "But are you sure you want me as a husband?" - -She stopped fiddling with her hair. She tilted her head and looked -at him, at a body that defied the laws of anatomy and the face that -belonged on a clown--except that a clown could take his face off. "Are -you trying to get rid of me?" She was asking questions, not answering -them. - -Erica was examining him carefully and he could tell that she, unlike a -male, saw each feature distinctly, saw the nose that had belonged to -someone else and looked it, the jaw, originally very fine, but with -contours that had since melted out of shape. - -"I'm not trying to get rid of you," he said. "Maybe you want somebody -nicer." He'd have to know before he could stop feeling tormented. - -"Nicer?" she echoed. "Do you want me to answer that?" - - * * * * * - -She came and leaned against him. "A woman ought to have _some_ -secrets," she murmured. "But if you have to know, the first time I -saw you I laughed, because you are funny. And after that, well, I saw -traces of the nicest features of nearly every man I ever had a crush -on. That was just the physical side." - -She rested her head on his shoulder. "I didn't believe you actually -were Dan. I didn't pay attention to a thing you said." - -"But if you didn't believe...." - -"Just what you're thinking," she answered. "I couldn't help it. You're -the most exciting challenge a woman can have. Even if she doesn't know -why, as I didn't then, it's still there--half a dozen men, and all of -them in one monogamous package." - -Now that she put it that way, he could see why she hadn't been able to -resist. He could see that there were few women who could. He glanced at -a framed photograph of the handsome pre-accident Dan Merrol that stood -on the bureau. He thought, _Poor sucker!_ - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man Who Was Six, by F. L. 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