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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..4e5617d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66283 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66283) diff --git a/old/66283-0.txt b/old/66283-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fd196c7..0000000 --- a/old/66283-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1009 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Disembodied Man, by Larry Maddock - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Disembodied Man - -Author: Larry Maddock - -Release Date: September 13, 2021 [eBook #66283] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DISEMBODIED MAN *** - - - - - - The Disembodied Man - - By Larry Maddock - - George remembered riding on the El with - the sad girl across from him. Then there was - nothing--nothing but blackness, and a voice.... - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy - April 1954 - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -_This, he thought, is a crazy way to die._ - -"_You're not dying, George. You're just beginning to live._" - -_He started, tried to see her. I didn't say anything!_ - -_"Yes you did," she insisted, in that same low voice. "You said, 'This -is a crazy way to die.'"_ - -_George tried to prop himself up on his elbows--but suddenly he -realized that he had no elbows!_ - -_"Don't worry, George. Just rest. You'll be all right."_ - -_How--where am I?_ - -_"Just rest," she repeated, and then she was gone. George thought about -her for a long time, before dropping off to sleep._ - - * * * * * - -It was a cold night, and lonely, for George Jameson. He paced the floor -of his apartment, back and forth, into the kitchen, into the hall, -through the bedroom, back and forth. - -"God!" he said, although there was no one there to hear him. "Two -years! And where am I?" - -Angrily, he reached for his coat. Maybe some fresh air would do him -good. He buttoned the coat, fumbled for his overcoat. - -Then he walked outdoors. - -It was snowing. The clean, white, slippery kind of snow that stays -for a while, then quickly turns into Chicago slush. Instinctively, -he turned his collar up against the cold, and headed for the El, a -sentimental relic of the 20th century just past. - -The snow was coming down in big, lazy flakes that caught themselves in -the wind and buffeted against his overcoat. Streetlights cast weird -shadows across the white. George could hear the faint _crunch-crunch_ -his shoes made. Half-turning he looked at his tracks behind him. - -"Damn white stuff!" He hunched his shoulders more, pulled his neck down -into the folds of his collar. "Puts a pure clean blanket over the whole -world--but all you have to do is walk on it and you can see the dirt -underneath!" - -George climbed the steps to the elevated, bought a ticket to anywhere. -Then he sat down and waited for a train. - -There was a girl waiting with him. She was pretty. George watched her -until the train pulled in, wondering what she was doing wandering -around Chicago at this time of night. - -She got on the train with him, sat down in the seat across from him. -The train whined into motion. - -"Hello," she said after a while. - -"Hello," he replied, startled by her voice. _People on elevated trains -don't go around saying "hello" to each other!_ - -"Do you mind awfully much if I talk to you?" - -"Go ahead." _Nor_, he thought, _do they ask such questions of strange -men._ - -"Do you ever get lonely here in Chicago?" - -George smiled. "Sometimes," he said. "You lonely, kid?" - -"Awfully. I like to talk to strangers. Then I don't feel quite so -lonely." - -"Oh." - -She was quiet for a minute, her eyes friendly, but her trim body stiff -against the city. - -"Don't let the town get you down, kid." He was giving _her_ advice! - -She looked at him wistfully. "Maybe it's not so bad. Only the people -who are fitted to live in a world like this keep on living. There are a -lot of people who don't see it the way we do." - -"Could be." She was a strange girl, he thought, to be talking this way. -Young, pretty, and fed up already. "Why do you ride the El at night?" -he asked. - -She smiled. "I can meet people--other lonely people--who don't know me -and don't want to pry. I can talk to people, and learn things. And then -I never see them again. I can't talk to people in a crowd." - -Through the windows he could see the lights of a sleeping city flash by -like speeding fireflies. "Never thought of it that way," he said. - -Suddenly, without warning, the hurtling elevated car leaped under -him. He was thrown to the floor as the car jumped the tracks and -twisted upon itself. George saw the lights go off and heard the girl -scream--and then her scream was cut off, sharply, by the grinding, -tearing crunch of impact. - -Blackness. - - * * * * * - -"Good morning, George. Did sleep well?" - -There she was again--that soft, quiet voice! _Sleep? I don't know if I -did or not. Is it morning?_ - -"Yes--a beautiful morning." Her voice was like lilacs, George thought. -Sweet, soft lilacs. - -"Lilacs? Thank you, George." - -_Go away! I don't want you to hear my thinking._ - -"Then don't sub-vocalize. Don't worry, you'll soon get the hang of it. -Just think without trying to move your tongue and your lips, and I -can't hear you." - -_Where am I?_ - -"You're in a hospital." Her voice was gentle, soft. - -_And you?_ - -"I'm Karen--your nurse, George." - -_How bad am I? I mean--I remember being on an elevated train when it -crashed._ - -"You're going to be all right. The doctors will have you all put back -together again. You just need some new parts." - -_It was that bad, huh?_ - -"You almost died. But you're alive now. Please get well, George." - -_What kind of shape am I in?_ - -She didn't answer immediately. "How do you feel?" - -_I--I don't feel! What's the matter--! I can't feel my body! I--Where -is my body!_ - -"George, please try to understand. You're safe, you're alive. You're -not crazy, and this isn't a nightmare...." - -_Where is my body?_ He tried to scream it, but no sound came. - -"Please, listen to me. You're in a hospital. You're being kept alive -by the best doctors we have, and by machines made by those doctors. -Physically, there isn't much left of you, but we're going to give you a -new body. Please be patient. And please co-operate." - -The thought was staggering. New body! _Then all that's left of me is_-- - -She finished it for him. "A brain in a jar, kept alive by pumps and -blood-conditioners and electronic impulses. I'm here to try to keep you -sane." - -George was silent, thinking now in visual images instead of words. A -brain in a glass jar, surrounded by fantastic machinery to perform the -functions of the human body. And a woman's voice being piped in to him, -to keep him from going mad. He'd read about it somewhere--that it had -been tried, and was successful up to a point. But the patient had died. -He didn't want to die. - -_I'll try_, he thought loudly. _I'll try like hell!_ - - * * * * * - -George Jameson, or the part of him that was in the jar, learned -quickly. It was two days before he had thoroughly mastered the knack of -thinking to himself, and sub-vocalizing only to others. On the third -day he asked Karen for a description of his surroundings. - -"You're in a glass jar, about the size and shape of a normal human -skull case. Leading in through the sides of the glass are several -plastic tubes, a jumble of wires, and a thermometer. Attached to all of -this is about a hundred pounds of machinery, gauges, and such." - -_I must be quite a handsome cuss._ - -"Oh, yes," she laughed. "Quite colorful, in fact. With those -chrome-plated fixtures, you cut quite a figure." - -_You're talking to me, Karen, and you can't hear me. Tell me, is this -being broadcast all over the place, or is it strictly a personal -conversation?_ - -"George," she said, "you're somewhat of a novelty. The electrodes that -pick up your tiny nerve impulses--the sub-vocalization--feed the signal -into a computer-translator sort of thing that changes it into words. -Your voice is purely mechanical. It comes through earphones from the -translator. Of course, everything we say is automatically recorded." - -_Is what I think--to myself, that is--is that recorded, too?_ - -"No." Her voice had that same gentle, understanding quality. "We -respect your privacy." - -_Thanks. I don't guess there would be much I could do about it if you -didn't, though._ - -"I'm proud of you, George. You're taking all this quite calmly." - -_What have I got to gain by getting excited?_ - -He could almost hear her smile. "Nothing." - -_Karen._ - -"What?" - -_You said something the other day that made me wonder. You said, -"Please get well." What did you mean by that?_ - -She hesitated for perhaps a fraction of a second. "Professional pride, -I guess. And maybe it was just the thing to say." - -_Oh._ He was silent for a while. _Then these experiments haven't worked -out too well in the past._ It was more of a statement than a question. - -He thought he detected a tightness in her voice. "George, you might -as well know. You're the first man to have ever progressed this far -without going hopelessly insane." - -_It's nice to know I'm not hopeless._ - -Silence. - -_I'm sorry, Karen. Maybe I talk too much._ - -"Would you like to hear some music?" Her voice was normal again, -soothing. - -_That would be nice. As long as it's relaxing. Something by Debussy, or -Beethoven, maybe. And please, Karen, accept my apologies for mouthing -off like that._ - -She laughed, softly. "We seem to be forgetting. _You're_ supposed to -be the patient. Will you settle for Gershwin while I go hunt up some -classical stuff?" - -_Gladly, sweetheart. Play it softly, huh?_ - - * * * * * - -_Karen._ - -"Yes, George." - -_You know more than I do what it's best for a patient to learn. Can you -tell me all about the setup here?_ - -"Just what is it you want to know?" - -_My body--I mean my new body. How do they build a human body?_ - -She laughed softly. "They don't," she said. "Medical science can do -many things, George, but they can't really _build_ a body." - -_But you said_-- - -"They can grow one to order, almost. You know what cancer is, don't -you?" - -_Yes._ - -"Well, the doctors here use what they sometimes call 'controlled -cancer'--to grow the human body. That way, they can do in months what -it takes Nature years to accomplish." - -George puzzled over this for a moment. If he had had eyebrows, there -would have been a frown on his face. If he had a face. - -_You mean--some other human being gives up his brain to make room for -me?_ - -"No, George. It doesn't have a brain. It's just a body, with a small -lump at the top of the spinal cord that controls the muscles." Her -voice was patient, yet urgent. He had to understand. "You see," she -continued, "because of the enormous rate of growth of the rest of the -body, the brain--or the mind--doesn't have a chance to develop. The -body has no personality--no _being_ of its own. It's your body, George. -Yours alone." - -He was silent for a long time, thinking. Considering the possibilities -of a new body. It'll be mine, he told himself, all mine. To taste and -hear and feel and smell. To get cold, or warm--to sweat! To walk, to -swim, to touch her hand--to see her--to see Karen! To see Karen, who is -just a voice; to take her dancing! _How soon can I be in this body?_ - -"It'll be six months, anyway, George." Her voice seemed to be saying, -"Please be patient," just by the tone of it. - -_Six months! Cooped up in this--this fishbowl!--for six months more?_ - -"I'm sorry, George. You won't be alone, though--I'll stay with you. -That is, if you want me." - -He began to laugh. He laughed uproariously. He didn't care that the -translator made his laugh into a horrible thing that grated in her -ears. Part of the time his laugh was a sob, but it was all the same to -the translator. - -_Do you mind if I call you Mom?_ There was a catch in his voice. _When -I was a kid I used to rely on my mother like this! I've never been so -dependent upon another woman in all my life! If I want you! I need you, -Karen. Don't leave me!_ - -"I won't leave you, George--" He had the feeling there was something -else she wanted to say, but she didn't. - - * * * * * - -He could hear her voice faintly now. She wasn't talking to him, and he -had to strain to catch her words. - -"He's all right, doctor. For the past few days all he's wanted to talk -about is his body. I've been telling him anything he wants to know." - -George could barely make out a mumbled answer. It was too far away to -hear the words. - -"Play the tape, doctor. You'll see what I mean." - -He mustn't let her know he had overheard. He had forgotten all about -this being put on tape. He'd have to watch his words from now on. She -must have thought she had turned the microphone off when the doctor -came in. Mentally, George smiled. - - * * * * * - -_Karen._ - -No answer. - -_Karen!_ - -Silence. - -_Karen, can you hear me?_ - -Where in the name of heaven did that woman go? Has she left me? Maybe -they gave me up for dead. - -_Karen._ I've been sleeping--or day-dreaming. Or maybe it's the middle -of the night. Maybe she's asleep. Maybe she's gone. - -_Karen!_ She must be asleep. Or maybe she's dead. Or maybe there's a -loose connection in the wiring. - -_Karen!_ No answer. Nothing but that deep, dead silence. _Karen! -Testing. Testing. One, two, three--Testing. Karen. Where are you? Can -you hear me, Karen? Karen!_ - -It seemed like several eternities before she answered. - -"George?" - -He would have breathed a sigh of relief, if he could. - -_I thought you'd deserted me. Were you asleep?_ - -She laughed that soft, vibrant laugh. "I'm sorry. I just--stepped out." - -_That's okay, sweetheart. I'm all right. Forget it. But tell me about -these things next time, huh? I worry about you when you're gone._ - -"You shouldn't. I'm a big girl now." - -_Hey! Is this being recorded?_ - -"Of course." - -_Who listens to it?_ - -"Oh, a bunch of doctors and medical students." - -_Any prudes in the audience?_ - -"Not me," she laughed. "But there's bound to be at least _one_, anyway." - -_Okay_, he said. He spent the next two hours telling bawdy stories. - - * * * * * - -A month later George knew he had grown to rely on Karen more and more. - -In fact, he knew he was falling in love with her. - -"Hi," she announced. Her voice sounded excited. "George, I just had a -look at your body. It's coming along fine--in fact, it's bee-ootiful! -I'll be with you in about ten minutes. Enjoy some music while I'm gone. -Bye!" - -Then the music lanced into his brain at a tremendous volume. George -quivered in real pain as each note blared forth. It was the loudest -version of the Warsaw Concerto he ever hoped to hear. As the music -progressed, blatting its way through painful crescendos and screaming -treble notes, he tried to shut out the sound of it. It was impossible. -It was a tearing, screeching nightmare of sound, that put him back on -a hurtling elevated train with the sound of a young girl's scream in -his ears, and the pain of a body crushed beyond recognition. With a -convulsive shudder, George was unconscious. - - * * * * * - -"Headache gone yet?" She was concerned. - -_Yeah, sweetheart. I'd like to wring your lovely neck, though._ - -"I'm sorry about the music, George. I didn't have the volume adjusted. -I won't leave you alone again." There was a note in her voice that -George hoped was more than just professional concern. - -_Karen! You don't have to do that! You'll be tying yourself down. And I -don't want that._ - -"I don't mind, George. I just don't want anything to happen to you. -You're something--someone special." - -_Maybe I don't want it that way. Although I will admit I enjoy your -company--but this around the clock business isn't necessary._ - -"I want to do it. Okay?" - -_Okay. I guess I can't stop you. Only don't you ever get tired?_ - -"Sometimes." - -_Maybe you should let me worry about your welfare for a change. I think -you need some sleep. Lie down a little while._ - -"Sure, boss. Is that an order?" - -_It's an order._ - -"I guess I am a little sleepy. Want some music?" - -George shuddered. _No! No more records for a long, long time! But leave -your microphone on--I like to know that you're there._ - -While she slept, he carefully kept his thoughts to himself. She's -sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. The little nut, she probably -didn't go to bed at all while I was--out. She deserves all the rest she -can get. - -He listened a long time to her quiet breathing. I wonder what she -looks like? Is the rest of her as beautiful as her voice? I can't help -it--I'm in love with her. I wish I was more than a brain in a bottle. I -wish I could touch her--hold her hand. Silly thought. Like a kid on his -first date. - -He pictured her in his mind--lovely, vibrant, beautiful. How, he -thought savagely, could she ever fall in love with me? Simple--she -couldn't. No woman could love a freak. And I wouldn't want it that way. -She'd be throwing her happiness away. - -But damn it!--I can't help it if I want her. - - * * * * * - -_I'm neck deep--if I may be permitted to use such an expression--in -world affairs. The good doctor read six newspapers to me while you were -gone._ - -Karen laughed. "I thought he sounded a bit hoarse." - -_Well--out with it, woman! Did you enjoy your first day off in almost -three weeks?_ - -Her voice was happier than he had heard it in days. "I went shopping, -George, for the first time in months, and really splurged. Got a new -outfit. You should see me." - -_I wish I could._ - -"You will soon enough." - -_What do you mean by that?_ - -"Your body's ready. You move in tomorrow." - -_Thank God! Tomorrow! It is--rather hard to believe, after all this -time! I'm going to have a body._ He could almost feel a lump form in -his throat, only of course he didn't have a throat--yet. _I don't know -if I'm going to like having to put up with the pains of the flesh -again._ - -She laughed. Then her voice turned wistful, or maybe it was just his -imagination. "Not only the pains, George, but the pleasures, too." - -_Yeah._ He was silent for a moment. Then he forced his voice to be -light. _I can't wait for those eyes, Karen. Tell me about the outfit. -What color is it--how does the cloth feel? Tell me all about it, Karen._ - - * * * * * - -The next day, Karen warned him just before Dr. Chase released the -sedative into his blood supply. George peacefully went into a deep, -dreamless sleep. In his mind, he could still hear Karen's voice -speaking gently to him, assuringly. - -Almost instantly, it seemed, he was awake, though it took hours. The -first thing he was conscious of was a dull throbbing pain in his -head--and then he realized--_it was in his head_! - -Vaguely at first, then sharply, as nerves clicked into action, he could -sense his arms and legs. - -He tried moving them, experimentally. It was a painful process. - -There was sound, he realized suddenly--a low, subdued noise level. But -there was no _light_! - -_Karen! Karen!_ he thought sharply. - -Still just that low noise level. An electric fan going somewhere. - -_Karen!_ This time he felt the muscles of his throat contract. His -breath came out in a sigh of satisfaction. He had been sub-vocalizing -through long habit! - -"Karen." He said it; he heard his voice. - -"George! You made it!" Karen was there. - -"Karen," he said again. A little quavering, but it was a voice. -"Karen!" he sobbed. "I can't see!" - -"Silly!" she laughed. "Of course not--there's a bandage over your -eyes. The optic nerve is very delicate. The doctors have to give the -nerve-endings--the nerve-graft--more time to heal. Another three days -and you'll be able to see." - -A low moan from his throat. "Then," he said, haltingly, "you're still -only a voice." - -"Not quite," she said. She touched his cheek. Cool, soft fingers. "That -better? Now you're the one who needs some sleep." - -"Karen," he said. - -Silently, she took his hand in hers. - - * * * * * - -At noon of the fourth day, they removed the bandages from his eyes. - -The blinds were drawn on the windows, but still the light was -staggering. George squinted until his eyes became accustomed to the -brightness. Then he focused them on various items in the room. - -He had just flipped the sheets back from his body and was commenting -proudly to himself, "I'm more of a man than I thought," when the door -opened. - -George looked up, startled. - -The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was in the doorway. - -"Hi," she said, her voice as soft and vibrant as ever. - -"Karen!" - -She was staring, unashamed, at the body George had just fully -uncovered. "Wow!" she said. - -George scrabbled for the sheets, pulled them over him. - -"You should knock," he said, starting to laugh. - -She came over to the foot of the bed, and slowly turned around for him. -"Well, how about me? Are you disappointed?" Her voice had an intimate, -challenging quality. - -"Sweetheart," he said slowly, looking at her for what it seemed to -George was the first time, "you are lovely. You're more than I ever -dreamed. And I don't care what you say or think of me for saying this, -but I love you. I've loved you since I first heard your voice. I know -it's impossible--no woman could ever knowingly fall in love with me--a -freak, a brain in a bottle--but that can't stop me from loving you. -Maybe it's just that I'm so happy to have a body again after so long -that makes me say this...." - -She had come around the corner of the bed, and was sitting on the edge -of it now. There were tears in her eyes and her hands were clasped over -his. "I know, George," she said slowly, when he had stopped. "I felt -the same way as you--when I got my new body--but I didn't have anyone -to say it to." - -His eyes widened in disbelief. His mouth worked for several seconds -before the words would come. "You...." - -She nodded slowly. "George, don't you remember many months ago--the -night of your accident on the El ... there was a girl on the train with -you...." - -He stared at her, sudden amazement in his eyes. "Of course I -remember--but--you--you mean _you are_...." - -"Yes, George. I'm the same girl--different body, of course. My case -wasn't as tough as yours. Your brain was close to death for quite -awhile before you regained conscious thought." - -He looked at her incredulously. "But you said _I_ was the first to ever -go this far...." - -Her face was close to his, her lips smiling. "I said you were the first -_man_ to pull through. I was praying for you George. I needed you--as -much as you thought you needed me...." - -As his arms closed about her, there wasn't much else for either to -say.... - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DISEMBODIED MAN *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Disembodied Man</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Larry Maddock</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 13, 2021 [eBook #66283]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DISEMBODIED MAN ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>The Disembodied Man</h1> - -<h2>By Larry Maddock</h2> - -<p>George remembered riding on the El with<br /> -the sad girl across from him. Then there was<br /> -nothing—nothing but blackness, and a voice....</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy<br /> -April 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><i>This, he thought, is a crazy way to die.</i></p> - -<p>"<i>You're not dying, George. You're just beginning to live.</i>"</p> - -<p><i>He started, tried to see her. I didn't say anything!</i></p> - -<p><i>"Yes you did," she insisted, in that same low voice. "You said, 'This -is a crazy way to die.'"</i></p> - -<p><i>George tried to prop himself up on his elbows—but suddenly he -realized that he had no elbows!</i></p> - -<p><i>"Don't worry, George. Just rest. You'll be all right."</i></p> - -<p><i>How—where am I?</i></p> - -<p><i>"Just rest," she repeated, and then she was gone. George thought about -her for a long time, before dropping off to sleep.</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was a cold night, and lonely, for George Jameson. He paced the floor -of his apartment, back and forth, into the kitchen, into the hall, -through the bedroom, back and forth.</p> - -<p>"God!" he said, although there was no one there to hear him. "Two -years! And where am I?"</p> - -<p>Angrily, he reached for his coat. Maybe some fresh air would do him -good. He buttoned the coat, fumbled for his overcoat.</p> - -<p>Then he walked outdoors.</p> - -<p>It was snowing. The clean, white, slippery kind of snow that stays -for a while, then quickly turns into Chicago slush. Instinctively, -he turned his collar up against the cold, and headed for the El, a -sentimental relic of the 20th century just past.</p> - -<p>The snow was coming down in big, lazy flakes that caught themselves in -the wind and buffeted against his overcoat. Streetlights cast weird -shadows across the white. George could hear the faint <i>crunch-crunch</i> -his shoes made. Half-turning he looked at his tracks behind him.</p> - -<p>"Damn white stuff!" He hunched his shoulders more, pulled his neck down -into the folds of his collar. "Puts a pure clean blanket over the whole -world—but all you have to do is walk on it and you can see the dirt -underneath!"</p> - -<p>George climbed the steps to the elevated, bought a ticket to anywhere. -Then he sat down and waited for a train.</p> - -<p>There was a girl waiting with him. She was pretty. George watched her -until the train pulled in, wondering what she was doing wandering -around Chicago at this time of night.</p> - -<p>She got on the train with him, sat down in the seat across from him. -The train whined into motion.</p> - -<p>"Hello," she said after a while.</p> - -<p>"Hello," he replied, startled by her voice. <i>People on elevated trains -don't go around saying "hello" to each other!</i></p> - -<p>"Do you mind awfully much if I talk to you?"</p> - -<p>"Go ahead." <i>Nor</i>, he thought, <i>do they ask such questions of strange -men.</i></p> - -<p>"Do you ever get lonely here in Chicago?"</p> - -<p>George smiled. "Sometimes," he said. "You lonely, kid?"</p> - -<p>"Awfully. I like to talk to strangers. Then I don't feel quite so -lonely."</p> - -<p>"Oh."</p> - -<p>She was quiet for a minute, her eyes friendly, but her trim body stiff -against the city.</p> - -<p>"Don't let the town get you down, kid." He was giving <i>her</i> advice!</p> - -<p>She looked at him wistfully. "Maybe it's not so bad. Only the people -who are fitted to live in a world like this keep on living. There are a -lot of people who don't see it the way we do."</p> - -<p>"Could be." She was a strange girl, he thought, to be talking this way. -Young, pretty, and fed up already. "Why do you ride the El at night?" -he asked.</p> - -<p>She smiled. "I can meet people—other lonely people—who don't know me -and don't want to pry. I can talk to people, and learn things. And then -I never see them again. I can't talk to people in a crowd."</p> - -<p>Through the windows he could see the lights of a sleeping city flash by -like speeding fireflies. "Never thought of it that way," he said.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, without warning, the hurtling elevated car leaped under -him. He was thrown to the floor as the car jumped the tracks and -twisted upon itself. George saw the lights go off and heard the girl -scream—and then her scream was cut off, sharply, by the grinding, -tearing crunch of impact.</p> - -<p>Blackness.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Good morning, George. Did sleep well?"</p> - -<p>There she was again—that soft, quiet voice! <i>Sleep? I don't know if I -did or not. Is it morning?</i></p> - -<p>"Yes—a beautiful morning." Her voice was like lilacs, George thought. -Sweet, soft lilacs.</p> - -<p>"Lilacs? Thank you, George."</p> - -<p><i>Go away! I don't want you to hear my thinking.</i></p> - -<p>"Then don't sub-vocalize. Don't worry, you'll soon get the hang of it. -Just think without trying to move your tongue and your lips, and I -can't hear you."</p> - -<p><i>Where am I?</i></p> - -<p>"You're in a hospital." Her voice was gentle, soft.</p> - -<p><i>And you?</i></p> - -<p>"I'm Karen—your nurse, George."</p> - -<p><i>How bad am I? I mean—I remember being on an elevated train when it -crashed.</i></p> - -<p>"You're going to be all right. The doctors will have you all put back -together again. You just need some new parts."</p> - -<p><i>It was that bad, huh?</i></p> - -<p>"You almost died. But you're alive now. Please get well, George."</p> - -<p><i>What kind of shape am I in?</i></p> - -<p>She didn't answer immediately. "How do you feel?"</p> - -<p><i>I—I don't feel! What's the matter—! I can't feel my body! I—Where -is my body!</i></p> - -<p>"George, please try to understand. You're safe, you're alive. You're -not crazy, and this isn't a nightmare...."</p> - -<p><i>Where is my body?</i> He tried to scream it, but no sound came.</p> - -<p>"Please, listen to me. You're in a hospital. You're being kept alive -by the best doctors we have, and by machines made by those doctors. -Physically, there isn't much left of you, but we're going to give you a -new body. Please be patient. And please co-operate."</p> - -<p>The thought was staggering. New body! <i>Then all that's left of me is</i>—</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>She finished it for him. "A brain in a jar, kept alive by pumps and -blood-conditioners and electronic impulses. I'm here to try to keep you -sane."</p> - -<p>George was silent, thinking now in visual images instead of words. A -brain in a glass jar, surrounded by fantastic machinery to perform the -functions of the human body. And a woman's voice being piped in to him, -to keep him from going mad. He'd read about it somewhere—that it had -been tried, and was successful up to a point. But the patient had died. -He didn't want to die.</p> - -<p><i>I'll try</i>, he thought loudly. <i>I'll try like hell!</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>George Jameson, or the part of him that was in the jar, learned -quickly. It was two days before he had thoroughly mastered the knack of -thinking to himself, and sub-vocalizing only to others. On the third -day he asked Karen for a description of his surroundings.</p> - -<p>"You're in a glass jar, about the size and shape of a normal human -skull case. Leading in through the sides of the glass are several -plastic tubes, a jumble of wires, and a thermometer. Attached to all of -this is about a hundred pounds of machinery, gauges, and such."</p> - -<p><i>I must be quite a handsome cuss.</i></p> - -<p>"Oh, yes," she laughed. "Quite colorful, in fact. With those -chrome-plated fixtures, you cut quite a figure."</p> - -<p><i>You're talking to me, Karen, and you can't hear me. Tell me, is this -being broadcast all over the place, or is it strictly a personal -conversation?</i></p> - -<p>"George," she said, "you're somewhat of a novelty. The electrodes that -pick up your tiny nerve impulses—the sub-vocalization—feed the signal -into a computer-translator sort of thing that changes it into words. -Your voice is purely mechanical. It comes through earphones from the -translator. Of course, everything we say is automatically recorded."</p> - -<p><i>Is what I think—to myself, that is—is that recorded, too?</i></p> - -<p>"No." Her voice had that same gentle, understanding quality. "We -respect your privacy."</p> - -<p><i>Thanks. I don't guess there would be much I could do about it if you -didn't, though.</i></p> - -<p>"I'm proud of you, George. You're taking all this quite calmly."</p> - -<p><i>What have I got to gain by getting excited?</i></p> - -<p>He could almost hear her smile. "Nothing."</p> - -<p><i>Karen.</i></p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p><i>You said something the other day that made me wonder. You said, -"Please get well." What did you mean by that?</i></p> - -<p>She hesitated for perhaps a fraction of a second. "Professional pride, -I guess. And maybe it was just the thing to say."</p> - -<p><i>Oh.</i> He was silent for a while. <i>Then these experiments haven't worked -out too well in the past.</i> It was more of a statement than a question.</p> - -<p>He thought he detected a tightness in her voice. "George, you might -as well know. You're the first man to have ever progressed this far -without going hopelessly insane."</p> - -<p><i>It's nice to know I'm not hopeless.</i></p> - -<p>Silence.</p> - -<p><i>I'm sorry, Karen. Maybe I talk too much.</i></p> - -<p>"Would you like to hear some music?" Her voice was normal again, -soothing.</p> - -<p><i>That would be nice. As long as it's relaxing. Something by Debussy, or -Beethoven, maybe. And please, Karen, accept my apologies for mouthing -off like that.</i></p> - -<p>She laughed, softly. "We seem to be forgetting. <i>You're</i> supposed to -be the patient. Will you settle for Gershwin while I go hunt up some -classical stuff?"</p> - -<p><i>Gladly, sweetheart. Play it softly, huh?</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p><i>Karen.</i></p> - -<p>"Yes, George."</p> - -<p><i>You know more than I do what it's best for a patient to learn. Can you -tell me all about the setup here?</i></p> - -<p>"Just what is it you want to know?"</p> - -<p><i>My body—I mean my new body. How do they build a human body?</i></p> - -<p>She laughed softly. "They don't," she said. "Medical science can do -many things, George, but they can't really <i>build</i> a body."</p> - -<p><i>But you said</i>—</p> - -<p>"They can grow one to order, almost. You know what cancer is, don't -you?"</p> - -<p><i>Yes.</i></p> - -<p>"Well, the doctors here use what they sometimes call 'controlled -cancer'—to grow the human body. That way, they can do in months what -it takes Nature years to accomplish."</p> - -<p>George puzzled over this for a moment. If he had had eyebrows, there -would have been a frown on his face. If he had a face.</p> - -<p><i>You mean—some other human being gives up his brain to make room for -me?</i></p> - -<p>"No, George. It doesn't have a brain. It's just a body, with a small -lump at the top of the spinal cord that controls the muscles." Her -voice was patient, yet urgent. He had to understand. "You see," she -continued, "because of the enormous rate of growth of the rest of the -body, the brain—or the mind—doesn't have a chance to develop. The -body has no personality—no <i>being</i> of its own. It's your body, George. -Yours alone."</p> - -<p>He was silent for a long time, thinking. Considering the possibilities -of a new body. It'll be mine, he told himself, all mine. To taste and -hear and feel and smell. To get cold, or warm—to sweat! To walk, to -swim, to touch her hand—to see her—to see Karen! To see Karen, who is -just a voice; to take her dancing! <i>How soon can I be in this body?</i></p> - -<p>"It'll be six months, anyway, George." Her voice seemed to be saying, -"Please be patient," just by the tone of it.</p> - -<p><i>Six months! Cooped up in this—this fishbowl!—for six months more?</i></p> - -<p>"I'm sorry, George. You won't be alone, though—I'll stay with you. -That is, if you want me."</p> - -<p>He began to laugh. He laughed uproariously. He didn't care that the -translator made his laugh into a horrible thing that grated in her -ears. Part of the time his laugh was a sob, but it was all the same to -the translator.</p> - -<p><i>Do you mind if I call you Mom?</i> There was a catch in his voice. <i>When -I was a kid I used to rely on my mother like this! I've never been so -dependent upon another woman in all my life! If I want you! I need you, -Karen. Don't leave me!</i></p> - -<p>"I won't leave you, George—" He had the feeling there was something -else she wanted to say, but she didn't.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He could hear her voice faintly now. She wasn't talking to him, and he -had to strain to catch her words.</p> - -<p>"He's all right, doctor. For the past few days all he's wanted to talk -about is his body. I've been telling him anything he wants to know."</p> - -<p>George could barely make out a mumbled answer. It was too far away to -hear the words.</p> - -<p>"Play the tape, doctor. You'll see what I mean."</p> - -<p>He mustn't let her know he had overheard. He had forgotten all about -this being put on tape. He'd have to watch his words from now on. She -must have thought she had turned the microphone off when the doctor -came in. Mentally, George smiled.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p><i>Karen.</i></p> - -<p>No answer.</p> - -<p><i>Karen!</i></p> - -<p>Silence.</p> - -<p><i>Karen, can you hear me?</i></p> - -<p>Where in the name of heaven did that woman go? Has she left me? Maybe -they gave me up for dead.</p> - -<p><i>Karen.</i> I've been sleeping—or day-dreaming. Or maybe it's the middle -of the night. Maybe she's asleep. Maybe she's gone.</p> - -<p><i>Karen!</i> She must be asleep. Or maybe she's dead. Or maybe there's a -loose connection in the wiring.</p> - -<p><i>Karen!</i> No answer. Nothing but that deep, dead silence. <i>Karen! -Testing. Testing. One, two, three—Testing. Karen. Where are you? Can -you hear me, Karen? Karen!</i></p> - -<p>It seemed like several eternities before she answered.</p> - -<p>"George?"</p> - -<p>He would have breathed a sigh of relief, if he could.</p> - -<p><i>I thought you'd deserted me. Were you asleep?</i></p> - -<p>She laughed that soft, vibrant laugh. "I'm sorry. I just—stepped out."</p> - -<p><i>That's okay, sweetheart. I'm all right. Forget it. But tell me about -these things next time, huh? I worry about you when you're gone.</i></p> - -<p>"You shouldn't. I'm a big girl now."</p> - -<p><i>Hey! Is this being recorded?</i></p> - -<p>"Of course."</p> - -<p><i>Who listens to it?</i></p> - -<p>"Oh, a bunch of doctors and medical students."</p> - -<p><i>Any prudes in the audience?</i></p> - -<p>"Not me," she laughed. "But there's bound to be at least <i>one</i>, anyway."</p> - -<p><i>Okay</i>, he said. He spent the next two hours telling bawdy stories.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A month later George knew he had grown to rely on Karen more and more.</p> - -<p>In fact, he knew he was falling in love with her.</p> - -<p>"Hi," she announced. Her voice sounded excited. "George, I just had a -look at your body. It's coming along fine—in fact, it's bee-ootiful! -I'll be with you in about ten minutes. Enjoy some music while I'm gone. -Bye!"</p> - -<p>Then the music lanced into his brain at a tremendous volume. George -quivered in real pain as each note blared forth. It was the loudest -version of the Warsaw Concerto he ever hoped to hear. As the music -progressed, blatting its way through painful crescendos and screaming -treble notes, he tried to shut out the sound of it. It was impossible. -It was a tearing, screeching nightmare of sound, that put him back on -a hurtling elevated train with the sound of a young girl's scream in -his ears, and the pain of a body crushed beyond recognition. With a -convulsive shudder, George was unconscious.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Headache gone yet?" She was concerned.</p> - -<p><i>Yeah, sweetheart. I'd like to wring your lovely neck, though.</i></p> - -<p>"I'm sorry about the music, George. I didn't have the volume adjusted. -I won't leave you alone again." There was a note in her voice that -George hoped was more than just professional concern.</p> - -<p><i>Karen! You don't have to do that! You'll be tying yourself down. And I -don't want that.</i></p> - -<p>"I don't mind, George. I just don't want anything to happen to you. -You're something—someone special."</p> - -<p><i>Maybe I don't want it that way. Although I will admit I enjoy your -company—but this around the clock business isn't necessary.</i></p> - -<p>"I want to do it. Okay?"</p> - -<p><i>Okay. I guess I can't stop you. Only don't you ever get tired?</i></p> - -<p>"Sometimes."</p> - -<p><i>Maybe you should let me worry about your welfare for a change. I think -you need some sleep. Lie down a little while.</i></p> - -<p>"Sure, boss. Is that an order?"</p> - -<p><i>It's an order.</i></p> - -<p>"I guess I am a little sleepy. Want some music?"</p> - -<p>George shuddered. <i>No! No more records for a long, long time! But leave -your microphone on—I like to know that you're there.</i></p> - -<p>While she slept, he carefully kept his thoughts to himself. She's -sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. The little nut, she probably -didn't go to bed at all while I was—out. She deserves all the rest she -can get.</p> - -<p>He listened a long time to her quiet breathing. I wonder what she -looks like? Is the rest of her as beautiful as her voice? I can't help -it—I'm in love with her. I wish I was more than a brain in a bottle. I -wish I could touch her—hold her hand. Silly thought. Like a kid on his -first date.</p> - -<p>He pictured her in his mind—lovely, vibrant, beautiful. How, he -thought savagely, could she ever fall in love with me? Simple—she -couldn't. No woman could love a freak. And I wouldn't want it that way. -She'd be throwing her happiness away.</p> - -<p>But damn it!—I can't help it if I want her.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p><i>I'm neck deep—if I may be permitted to use such an expression—in -world affairs. The good doctor read six newspapers to me while you were -gone.</i></p> - -<p>Karen laughed. "I thought he sounded a bit hoarse."</p> - -<p><i>Well—out with it, woman! Did you enjoy your first day off in almost -three weeks?</i></p> - -<p>Her voice was happier than he had heard it in days. "I went shopping, -George, for the first time in months, and really splurged. Got a new -outfit. You should see me."</p> - -<p><i>I wish I could.</i></p> - -<p>"You will soon enough."</p> - -<p><i>What do you mean by that?</i></p> - -<p>"Your body's ready. You move in tomorrow."</p> - -<p><i>Thank God! Tomorrow! It is—rather hard to believe, after all this -time! I'm going to have a body.</i> He could almost feel a lump form in -his throat, only of course he didn't have a throat—yet. <i>I don't know -if I'm going to like having to put up with the pains of the flesh -again.</i></p> - -<p>She laughed. Then her voice turned wistful, or maybe it was just his -imagination. "Not only the pains, George, but the pleasures, too."</p> - -<p><i>Yeah.</i> He was silent for a moment. Then he forced his voice to be -light. <i>I can't wait for those eyes, Karen. Tell me about the outfit. -What color is it—how does the cloth feel? Tell me all about it, Karen.</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The next day, Karen warned him just before Dr. Chase released the -sedative into his blood supply. George peacefully went into a deep, -dreamless sleep. In his mind, he could still hear Karen's voice -speaking gently to him, assuringly.</p> - -<p>Almost instantly, it seemed, he was awake, though it took hours. The -first thing he was conscious of was a dull throbbing pain in his -head—and then he realized—<i>it was in his head</i>!</p> - -<p>Vaguely at first, then sharply, as nerves clicked into action, he could -sense his arms and legs.</p> - -<p>He tried moving them, experimentally. It was a painful process.</p> - -<p>There was sound, he realized suddenly—a low, subdued noise level. But -there was no <i>light</i>!</p> - -<p><i>Karen! Karen!</i> he thought sharply.</p> - -<p>Still just that low noise level. An electric fan going somewhere.</p> - -<p><i>Karen!</i> This time he felt the muscles of his throat contract. His -breath came out in a sigh of satisfaction. He had been sub-vocalizing -through long habit!</p> - -<p>"Karen." He said it; he heard his voice.</p> - -<p>"George! You made it!" Karen was there.</p> - -<p>"Karen," he said again. A little quavering, but it was a voice. -"Karen!" he sobbed. "I can't see!"</p> - -<p>"Silly!" she laughed. "Of course not—there's a bandage over your -eyes. The optic nerve is very delicate. The doctors have to give the -nerve-endings—the nerve-graft—more time to heal. Another three days -and you'll be able to see."</p> - -<p>A low moan from his throat. "Then," he said, haltingly, "you're still -only a voice."</p> - -<p>"Not quite," she said. She touched his cheek. Cool, soft fingers. "That -better? Now you're the one who needs some sleep."</p> - -<p>"Karen," he said.</p> - -<p>Silently, she took his hand in hers.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>At noon of the fourth day, they removed the bandages from his eyes.</p> - -<p>The blinds were drawn on the windows, but still the light was -staggering. George squinted until his eyes became accustomed to the -brightness. Then he focused them on various items in the room.</p> - -<p>He had just flipped the sheets back from his body and was commenting -proudly to himself, "I'm more of a man than I thought," when the door -opened.</p> - -<p>George looked up, startled.</p> - -<p>The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was in the doorway.</p> - -<p>"Hi," she said, her voice as soft and vibrant as ever.</p> - -<p>"Karen!"</p> - -<p>She was staring, unashamed, at the body George had just fully -uncovered. "Wow!" she said.</p> - -<p>George scrabbled for the sheets, pulled them over him.</p> - -<p>"You should knock," he said, starting to laugh.</p> - -<p>She came over to the foot of the bed, and slowly turned around for him. -"Well, how about me? Are you disappointed?" Her voice had an intimate, -challenging quality.</p> - -<p>"Sweetheart," he said slowly, looking at her for what it seemed to -George was the first time, "you are lovely. You're more than I ever -dreamed. And I don't care what you say or think of me for saying this, -but I love you. I've loved you since I first heard your voice. I know -it's impossible—no woman could ever knowingly fall in love with me—a -freak, a brain in a bottle—but that can't stop me from loving you. -Maybe it's just that I'm so happy to have a body again after so long -that makes me say this...."</p> - -<p>She had come around the corner of the bed, and was sitting on the edge -of it now. There were tears in her eyes and her hands were clasped over -his. "I know, George," she said slowly, when he had stopped. "I felt -the same way as you—when I got my new body—but I didn't have anyone -to say it to."</p> - -<p>His eyes widened in disbelief. His mouth worked for several seconds -before the words would come. "You...."</p> - -<p>She nodded slowly. "George, don't you remember many months ago—the -night of your accident on the El ... there was a girl on the train with -you...."</p> - -<p>He stared at her, sudden amazement in his eyes. "Of course I -remember—but—you—you mean <i>you are</i>...."</p> - -<p>"Yes, George. I'm the same girl—different body, of course. My case -wasn't as tough as yours. Your brain was close to death for quite -awhile before you regained conscious thought."</p> - -<p>He looked at her incredulously. "But you said <i>I</i> was the first to ever -go this far...."</p> - -<p>Her face was close to his, her lips smiling. "I said you were the first -<i>man</i> to pull through. I was praying for you George. I needed you—as -much as you thought you needed me...."</p> - -<p>As his arms closed about her, there wasn't much else for either to -say....</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DISEMBODIED MAN ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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