“To think,” he said sadly, “that after all I’ve done for you, You’d try to shoot me. Shame on you!”
“The Goofy Ghost!” Marked exclaimed, and the guard looked more reproachful than ever. He didn’t like to be considered supernatural.
Mark noticed that the girl was having trouble opening the gate against the dead weight of the fallen guard. As he went to help her the erstwhile apparition strode in front of him, calmly picked up the obstruction and tossed it, without effort, through the side of the nearest house. With a loud crash the flimsy, baked-clay wall fell to pieces, preceding the other wall and the roof by only an instant.
“Now you’ve done it,” Mark groaned. “That’ll raise the whole colony. Let’s get out of here!”
His prediction came true before the noise of the collapsing dwelling had died out. Already men were running from the nearer huts, and the two boys who had been enemies only a moment before were now united in screaming and pointing toward them as they fled.
WITH gleeful strokes the phantom plied his club in a sincere determined effort to decapitate as many of the townsmen as possible. Any that managed to escape his gleeful swings were taken care of by the needlegun in Mark’s steady hand.
The girl ran nimbly between them.
Of all the spears which were hastily thrown at them, only two registered hits. One of these was tossed at pointblank range toward the phantom’s borrowed body. It shattered itself on his club and a moment later the thrower fell before that same club. The other spear, however, entered the phantom’s back and stayed there, swinging to and fro, unheeded. Mark noted this fact idly, thinking it scarcely worthy of comment.
Once a burly figure rounded one of the dwellings and leaped directly in their path. He was no more than a yard away when he appeared. Mark’s pulse gave a jump as he caught the flash of his own axe descending toward his head! In a split second, he discarded the thought of using the needle gun. No drug could act quickly enough to stop that streak of razor-keen steel. With a quick sidestep to the right, he put all his weight into a crushing left uppercut. The axe dropped as its wielder fell unconscious. Mark retrieved it, recovered his stride just in time to direct a stream of needles into another of the brutes.
The edge of the settlement was reached without further mishap, and they continued trotting toward the forest. Occasionally the phantom’s feet would leave the ground and he would float along for a few yards before coming down and running in a plausible manner. At these times, Mark noticed, the girl’s face lost its usual placid expression. Her training had prepared her for no such antics as these.
Once inside the wood they stopped and watched the settlement for signs of pursuit, but evidently the barbarians wanted no more to do with these unusual people.
“I tried out your suggestion,” remarked the phantom, allowing the punctured body to fall to the ground and speaking from a point in the air where the head had been.
The young lady, who had seated herself comfortably, looked around, wide-eyed, but said nothing.
“You mean you destroyed your brain?”
“Yes, completely. It was a bit of a gamble, but I had to know.”
Mark was silent for a moment. It seemed this goofy ghost had an awful wad of courage to risk extinction just to prove something that didn’t need proving at all.
“Suppose you take another body now,” he suggested, “and tell us how you happened to be occupying that other one.”
With an abruptness that astonished even Mark, who was becoming used to such things, the phantom appeared in a brand new body, this one moderately handsome.
“You didn’t have to try to look like an Adonis,” Mark complained.
“So that’s the way it is?” said the Adonis sagely, with a glance at the girl.
“Not exactly,” Mark said nervously. “But just the same you might play fair, you know.”
“Well, maybe this will suit you better.” And so saying the handsome physique began to age before their eyes. It was an infirm and decrepit Adonis who grinned at them now.
“All right. And stay that way,” said Mark. “And now suppose you explain yourself. And while I think of it, suppose you give us a name. I’m tired thinking of you as the Goofy Ghost.”
“You don’t for a moment imagine I like to be thought of that way? It’s insulting, that’s what it is,” declared the apparition in a quavering voice. “Suppose you call me ‘Omega.’ You couldn’t say my real name. Wrong kind of vocal apparatus. And incidentally you two should really be introduced. Allow me to present Nona Barr, who recently ran away from home rather than marry a certain gentleman. Nona, I think you will find Mark Nevin a pleasant fellow, even if he is about six thousand years older than you.”
NONA acknowledged the introduction with a little curtsy, and then for some reason incomprehensible to Mark, blushed a deep crimson. He grinned, hoping to put her at ease, but could think of nothing to add to his, “How do you do?” Nona, to cover her confusion, turned in wonderment to Omega.
“How did you know my name and that I ran away from home?”
“Been watching you since you were born. I knew the Eugenics Council had made another mistake when your mother and dad were married. You were bound to have that spark of independence that they have been so diligent in exterminating. So I watched you with interest, saw the spark flare up half a dozen times, and finally break into flame when they tried to marry you to that nincompoop.”
At this point Mark interrupted with: “She can’t understand that you have watched her all her life without knowing what sort of person you are. And while you’re telling her that suppose you explain how I was asleep for six thousand years. She thought I was lying when I told her.”
Omega thoughtfully removed the remains of his former body, explaining that he had acquired that lump of human clay by the simple expedient of copying one of those whom Mark had killed during his capture. He had then joined the marching captors, telling them that he had not been killed, but knocked out. As for being placed as Mark’s guard, that had been a matter for volunteers and he had been the only one to offer.
Omega seemed to be wound up, for after exhausting the subjects of his own and Mark’s history, he went on to describe to Mark the civilization of which Nona had been a member.
It was a socialistic sort of affair with certain governmental powers vested in various councils, These councils had the final authority in matters falling within their jurisdiction. Thus it happened that when the Eugenics Council had decided that a mate for Nona must have certain characteristics — known as “gene determinants” — and found that there was but one man who filled the bill, there was no choice for her but to take that man or run away.
“The idea itself is a good one,” Omega stated, “if they had been intelligent enough to work it out properly. The rapid progress of my own civilization was partly due to careful selection. Supermen could be created in the same manner. But this council invariably misses the important characteristics and instead fosters such points as stoicism — which is commendable, but not particularly important — and the ability to knuckle down to superiors — which makes for unified action, but stifles independent thought. Taken by and large they have used eugenics for selfish purposes rather than for scientific progress.
“And don’t get any funny ideas, Mark. Your genes wouldn’t suit the council, either. They wouldn’t even admit you. You’ll just have to find somewhere else to go.”
MARK glared savagely at the ground, and wished Omega had a little self-restraint. If there was any courting to be done, he’d do it himself, without any suggestions from an antiquated. Which reminded him that he was six thousand years old himself.
“And now that we are acquainted with each other,” Omega was saying, “what’s next on the program?”
“I’m hungry,” Nona declared, after the fashion of women from time immemorial.
“Just a minute, and I’ll see what’s in the kitchen,” Omega said, groaning as he hobbled toward a nearb
y patriarch of the forest.
“Where is he going?” inquired Nona. “He’s a dreadful old man.”
“I’m not going to try to predict anything he might do. But a good guess would be that he is going to step out from behind that tree with an armful of groceries. He’s full of surprises.”
But an armful of groceries was much beneath Omega’s abilities. In a few minutes he came shuffling forth, carrying a table, heavily laden with food. Wisps of steam curled up from under silver covers and fragrant odors rose into the air. Two chairs floated madly through the air behind him.
“Don’t show any sign of surprise,” whispered Mark. “He’s vain enough now.”
Nona hastily composed her face and calmly sat down in a chair that Mark captured for her.
“Thank you,” she said sweetly.
Omega looked searchingly at her, then at Mark, who was trying to hide a grin. “So that’s it!” he exclaimed. “Spoiling my fun. We’ll see about that.”
Mark lifted the covers, one by one, and disclosed a series of dishes designed to whet the most jaded of appetites. Although he, strangely, had not been the least bit hungry since his awakening, the sight and aroma of this food made him ravenous.
“Now if you people will excuse me for a few minutes,” Omega said, his body gradually fading as he spoke, “there is a little matter I must attend to.”
Chapter 6: The Dangerous Brains
THAT should have warned Mark, but when the vanishing act was completed he forgot about his benefactor, and fell to helping Nona. Except for being slightly aggressive, the girl’s table manners were reassuringly correct. Mark’s first mouthful — a forkful of tender roast beef — revealed to him what Omega had in mind when he had said, “We’ll see about that.” The beef tasted like stewed onions! And Mark hated stewed onions.
A glance at Nona told him that she had noticed nothing wrong. Obviously this was Omega’s work. Mark determined to eat the stuff if it killed him. The next mouthful — mashed potatoes laden with gravy — tasted like sour milk.
A roar of laughter blasted forth from a point nearby. Nona, startled, dropped her fork and stifled a scream.
“Don’t be alarmed,” Mark advised. “It’s only Omega and his depraved sense of humor. He’s making my food taste like swill and I’m eating it to spite him.”
He conveyed another forkful to his mouth, prepared for anything. He was fooled this time. The beef tasted like beef. “It’s all right now,” he announced. “I guess he’s left.”
“I hope so,” she said. “This food is so good, and he makes me nervous. I can’t eat when I’m upset.”
“He’s not a bad sort,” Mark declared, thoughtfully, “except for his habit of being as confusing as he can manage. But I guess we’ll have to get used to it. He seems to be interested in both of us.”
“Yes, so I’ve noticed.”
Mark speared a slice of pickled beet. “There was something I meant to ask you,” he said, trying to remember, and carrying the beet halfway to his mouth. “Oh yes... How do you account for the fact that after several thousands of years your language is no different from mine, and yet that of those oafs in the village is just so much Greek?”
“That’s simple,” Nona said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “You see, after the last great war, records of which are preserved in our museum, my ancestors gathered in the ruins of a great city. They managed to survive on stored foodstuffs until they were able to grow their own. Some semblance of the former civilization was retained, for among them were wise and intelligent leaders.
“A government was organized and later a system of education instituted. Textbooks were found in the ruins, and they naturally preserved the written language; and phonograph records and machines for playing them were also discovered. Copies of these are still used today. And it has been the continued use of these ancient records which has preserved the language, though I dare say there are hundreds of words, of a technical nature, which have dropped out through disuse, and possibly some which have been created to meet new conditions.”
“VERY logical,” commented Mark, placing the slice of pickled beet, which had been hovering in mid-air, in his mouth. There followed an explosion of considerable violence, which was perfectly natural, in view of the fact that the beet had all the delicate flavor and bouquet of slightly used gunpowder. “Damn,” said Mark, feeling to see if he’d lost any teeth.
Nona jumped to her feet, and bent over him solicitously. This anxiety over his welfare was not entirely unwelcome. In fact he rather liked it, though he was too honorable — or too stupid — to prolong it needlessly.
“I’m all right,” he gasped. “That was Omega again. The darned clown fed me a firecracker. Omega,” he shouted, “behave yourself, won’t you please?”
Nona looked angrily about, but Omega remained unpleasantly invisible.
“I don’t think it’s fair,” she said, stamping one foot. “He gives you this meal and then spoils it for you. Wait till I get my hands on him.”
“Leave him alone,” begged Mark. “Don’t be fooled by that lad. He might have the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old, but he has brain-power such as the Earth has never seen. This stuff you have see him perform is only child’s play. His tricks are the manipulation of the basic stuff of the Universe — matter and energy.
“Those bodies of his represent energy wrested from radiations which pervade space, and transformed into matter in exact duplication of the tremendously complex structure of the human organizer. No, there was never a brain like his developed on the Earth.”
A modest cough came from behind them. There was Omega, superannuated as they had last seen him, looking very serious.
“You are wrong there, my friend,” he stated. “There are two minds right now on this earth, each of which is as well equipped as I. I’ll admit they are not natural but that doesn’t alter the fact that they are very powerful.”
“How are they not natural?” inquired Mark.
“THEY’RE artificial, of course,” replied Omega, scornfully. “I’ll tell you about it. A little less than six thousand years past — you were asleep at the time — a certain Russian biologist became aware that his life expectancy was nothing to brag about, due to the fact that his country was gradually being destroyed in the course of the last war, and decided upon a bold experiment.
“He had discovered the very same fluid that I had earlier developed for the purpose of preserving my brain and those others who were the last of my race. And he had also discovered how to join the nerve-ends of two brains so that one — the more powerful one — could blanket out the ego of the other and have control of both brains. His bold experiment consisted of hooking together in this manner twelve brains!
“For his key-brain he chose the preserved one of a former laboratory associate who had met with an accident. This man had been exceptionally clever and the Russian hoped that he would gain control of the others, who were ordinary men and women.
“The biologist had no trouble acquiring these brains, for he was working directly for the government and was given all the condemned prisoners he wished, with which to experiment. He had duped officials into thinking that he was developing a new germ culture for use as a weapon, and needed live humans to try it on. His real purpose, of course, was to make himself immortal, which he actually did!
“The associate easily gained control of the other brains and soon found himself possessed of powers of which he had never dreamed. He suddenly realized that he had now regained all the senses he had been deprived of since his crushed body had been destroyed and the brain preserved.
“The twelve-brain-power mind was able to communicate, by means of thought waves, with the biologist, who informed him of his aims. These consisted of removing his own brain and connecting it with fifteen others and preserving the whole batch in a suitable container. The biologist, being a very selfish man, wanted to have the more powerful mind. The associate had been a very loyal workman when he was aliv
e and had a certain amount of gratitude in his present state. He therefore agreed to perform the operation, but with only eleven brains.
“He didn’t fancy the biologist being any more powerful than he, even if he was grateful. He didn’t know then that the extra ones would have been of no use. His knowledge was still very limited. He was like a man who has suddenly lost his memory, but still has all his other mental faculties.
“He knows nothing, but has the power to reason and to acquire knowledge quickly. As a matter of fact, five brains connected in this manner would have given a maximum thought capacity. Intelligence was not increased by adding more.”
“Wait a minute,” Mark interrupted. “I know the biologist needed help to remove his own brain, but how could the associate do it without any hands?”
“My, my, my,” Omega said sadly, peering nearsightedly at Mark. “I gave you credit for more imagination. I’ll show you. Now if you will look over there you will see a fully equipped surgical laboratory.”
Mark turned his head and stared. Sure enough, there it was, operating table, trephining apparatus and a number of gadgets unfamiliar to him. On the table lay the sheeted figure of a man. Then, without any volition of his own, he found himself bending over the figure and operating!
In a matter of minutes his flying fingers, had caused the strange instruments to remove the entire dome of the skull and expose the palpitating brain within. Abruptly the whole layout vanished and he was looking into the slightly dazed brown eyes of Nona, who did not yet realize that it was Omega, controlling Mark’s body, who had performed the operation.
Mark nodded. “Of course. I should have guessed. I’m stupid.”
“Not at all,” returned Omega. “The biologist was no more intelligent than you. He didn’t know at the time he presented his problems to the associate that the feat could be accomplished so easily. He expected advice as to how to build a mechanical device for the purpose. But the operation was a success and both batches of brains are alive today, each thinking as a powerful unit.”
The Best of Argosy #2 - Minions on the Moon Page 4
