sylvia: Well, then—here it is, Norbert. (She empties the revolver into him).
cut to same room almost a half hour later. A second tripod has been set up, with Frankenstein's head on top.
Frankenstein is asleep and so is sylvia. swift, with little standing by, is feverishly making a final connection to the machinery below. There are pipe wrenches and a blowtorch and other plumber's and electrician's tools lying around.
swift: That's gotta be it. (He straightens up, looks around) That's gotta be it. little (consulting watch): Twenty-eight minutes since the first shot was fired.
swift: Thank God you were around.
little: What you really needed was a plumber.
swift (into microphone): Charley—we're all set up here. You all set down there?
charley (squawk box): All set. swift: Give 'em plenty of martinis.
gloria appears numbly in doorway.
charley: They've got 'em. They'll be higher than kites. swift: Better given 'em a touch of LSD, too. charley: Coming up.
swift: Hold it! I forgot the phonograph. (To little) Dr. Frankenstein said that if this ever happened, he wanted a certain record playing when he came to. He said it was in with the other records—in a plain white jacket. (To gloria) See if you can find it. gloria goes to phonograph, finds the record.
gloria: This it?
swift: Put it on.
gloria: Which side?
swift: I don't know.
gloria: There's tape over one side.
swift: The side without tape, (gloria puts record on. Into microphone.) Stand-by to wake up the patients. charley: Standing by.
Record begins to play. It is a Jeanette MacDonaId-Nelson Eddy duet, "Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life."
swift (into microphone): Wake 'em up!
Frankenstein and sylvia wake up, filled with formless pleasure. They dreamily appreciate the music, eventually catch sight of each other, perceive each other as old and beloved friends.
sylvia: Hi, there.
frankenstein: Hello.
sylvia: How do you feel?
Frankenstein: Fine. Just fine.
MONSTERS OF THE MIDWAY
Mike Re snick
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SURPRISES ON TAP?
July 12, 2037 (UPI) Coach Rattler Renfro, in his initial press conference, has promised fans that his Chicago Bears, coming off a pair of 1-and-15 seasons, will sport a new look this season. When asked to explain why training camp will be closed to both the press and the public, Renfro merely smiled and said, "No comment."
BEARS TAKE OPENER, 76-0
September 4, 2037 (AP) The "New Look" Chicago Bears made their debut this afternoon, beating last year's Super Bowl winners, the North Dakota Timberwolves, by a league-record score of 76-0. The Timberwolves were a 22-point favorite.
Coach Rattler Renfro unveiled an all-new offensive line, consisting of five rookies, all free agents who had never played organized football before. They are right tackle Jumbo Smith (7'4", 603 pounds), right guard Willie "The Whale" McPherson (7'10", 566 pounds), center Hannibal Cohen (8'3", 622 pounds), and left guard Mountain O'Mara (7'8", 559 pounds), and the biggest of them all, right tackle Tiny Tackenheim (8'7", 701 pounds).
"Hell, I could have run through the holes those guys made," said Timberwolves coach Rocket Ryan. "I don't know where Renfro recruited them, but they're just awesome."
After three decades in eclipse, it looks like the Bears are once again the Monsters of the Midway.
BEARS WIN FOURTH STRAIGHT, 88-7
October 2, 2037 (AP) "Those guys just ain't human!" said Montana Buttes' linebacker Jocko Schmidt from his hospital bed, after his team had suffered an 88—7 mauling at the hands of the Chicago Bears. "That Tack- enheim ought to be in a zoo, not on a football field!"
NFL INVESTIGATES CHARGES
October 24, 2037 (UPI) The National Football League has announced they are probing into an alleged connection between Nobel Prize winner Dr. Alfredo Rathermann and the Chicago Bears. Rathermann, who won his award for his pioneering work in the reanimation of dead tissue, was unavailable for comment.
George Halas VI, owner and general manager of the Bears, who lead their division with a 7-0 record, termed the allegations "ridiculous."
BEARS CLINCH TITLE, LOOK TO SUPER BOWL
December 25, 2037 (UPI) The Chicago Bears celebrated Christmas with a 68—3 thrashing of the Mississippi Riverboats, thus becoming the first NFL team this century to conclude its regular-season schedule unbeaten and untied. The Monster of the Midway looked awesome as the offensive line opened up hole after hole for Chicago's running backs.
Coach Rattler Renfro, in his post-game press conference, praised the Riverboats and said that he was looking forward to the playoffs. When questioned about the ongoing investigation of the dealings between the Bears and Dr. Alfredo Rathermann, he simply shrugged and said, "Hey, I'm just a coach. You'll have to speak to the Commissioner about that."
RATHERMANN ADMITS ALL!
December 28, 2037 (UPI) Nobel Prize laureate Alfredo Rathermann held a joint press conference with Roger Jamison, Commissioner of the National
Football League, and admitted that the five starting members of the Chicago Bears' offensive line are actually scientific constructs, created from bits and pieces of other human beings.
This revelation seemed certain to win another Nobel for Dr. Rathermann, but the more important issue of whether linemen Smith, McPherson, Cohen, O'Mara, and Tackenheim will be allowed to compete in the upcoming NFL playoffs remains undecided at present. Commissioner Jamison promised a ruling before the Bears meet the Las Vegas Gamblers in eleven days.
NFL RULES ON "MONSTERS"
January 3, 2038 (AP) Commissioner Roger Jamison held a press conference this morning, in which he outlined the NFL's policy on the Chicago Bears' offensive line.
"After extended meetings with our attorneys and the NFL Players Union, we have amended the rules to state that football is a game played by natural-born human beings," said Commissioner Jamison. "If we were to permit an endless string of Dr. Rathermann's creations to play in the NFL, the day would soon arrive when not a single natural-born human could make an NFL roster, and while it would certainly make the games more exciting, we question whether the public is ready for such a change at this time.
"However," he added, "our attorneys inform us that we have no legal basis for denying Smith, McPherson, Cohen, O'Mara, and Tackenheim the right to play in this season's post-season competition, since the rule was changed after they made the Bears' roster."
The owners of the 47 other NFL teams have filed an official protest, demanding that the players in question be barred from the upcoming playoffs.
BEARS WIN 77-10, SUPER BOWL NEXT
January 15, 2038 (UPI) The Chicago Bears beat the Hawaii Volcanos 7710 this afternoon to advance to the Super Bowl. They overcame a 10-0 first-quarter deficit after the Supreme Court overturned the injunction barring linemen Smith, McPherson, Cohen, O'Mara and Tackenheim from playing. The ruling came down at 1:37 pm, and the Bears took the lead, never to relinquish it, at 1:43 pm.
'MONSTERS DON'T SCARE US!' SAYS MCNAB
January 22, 2038 (UPI) With the Super Bowl only a week away, and the Chicago Bears a 45-point favorite, Coach Terry McNab of the Alaskan Malamutes said that his team didn't fear the Monsters of the Midway, and looked forward to the challenge.
When asked how his defensive line, which will be giving away an average of 327 pounds per man, would cope with their offensive counterparts on the Bears, he merely smiled and said that he was working on a strategy.
The Bears are expected to be 50-point favorites by the opening kickoff.
MCNAB MISSES PRACTICE
January 24, 2038 (UPI) Coach Terry McNab was missing from the Alaskan Malamutes' practice this afternoon. Club officials had no comment.
RATHERMANN RESURFACES
January 26, 2038 (UPI) Nobel Prize winner Alfredo Rathermann, who had been in seclusion since Decem
ber 28, was spotted sitting in the stands, watching the Alaskan Malamutes prepare for their Super Bowl meeting with the Chicago Bears.
When asked if he had a rooting interest in the game, Rathermann replied that his interest was "strictly professional." He was later seen having dinner with Coach McNab and the owners of the Malamutes.
BEARS GO TO COURT TO BAR MCNAB FROM SUPER BOWL
January 28, 2038 (AP) With the revelation that Coach Terry McNab's skull now houses two brains—his own and that of Professor Steven Hawking, which had been cryogenically frozen upon his death in 1998—the Chicago Bears went to court in an attempt to stop McNab from appearing on the sidelines during tomorrow's Super Bowl.
McNab's physician, Dr. Alfredo Rathermann, called the Bears' ownership "poor sportsmen" and pointed out that since McNab will not be playing, his presence will not break the NFL's controversial new policy. "Besides," said McNab at a hastily-called press conference, "I'm still the same 183-pound 57-year-old man I was last week. How can sharing the late Dr. Hawking's brain pose a threat to the Bears? Do I look like a Monster of the Midway?"
COURT RULES FOR MCNAB
January 28, 2038 (UPI) The U.S. District Court ruled that Coach Terry McNab's presence will not conflict with stated NFL policy, and that he will be allowed on the field when his Alaskan Malamutes, who are 53- point underdogs, meet the Chicago Bears in tomorrow's Super Bowl.
MALAMUTES UPSET BEARS, 7-3
January 29, 2038 (AP) In one of the great upsets of all time, the Alaskan Malamutes beat the Chicago Bears 7—3 in Super Bowl LXXIII.
Using unorthodox formations and attacking from strange angles, the Malamutes' new "Vector Defense" smothered the supposedly-unstoppable Bears' running game. Quarterback Pedro Cordero hit tight end Bennie Philander with a 9-yard touchdown pass at 3:12 of the fourth quarter for the winning score.
When asked how his defense managed to penetrate the vaunted Bears' line, Coach Terry McNab's only comment was "E z MC2"
MAJOR OVERHAUL FOR BEARS
February 19, 2038 (UPI) In the wake of their devastating defeat in the Super Bowl, the Chicago Bears have fired Coach Rattler Renfro, and given unconditional releases to linesmen Jumbo Smith, Willie "The Whale" McPherson, Hannibal Cohen, Mountain O'Mara, and Tiny Tackenheim.
All five players expressed hope that they could start new careers in the World Wrestling Federation.
DREAMS
F. Paul Wilson
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THE NIGHTMARE again.
I almost dread falling asleep. Always the same, and yet never quite the same. The events differ dream to dream, yet always I am in a stranger's body, a huge, monstrous, patchwork contraption that reels through the darkness in such ungainly fashion. And it's always dark in the dream, for I seem to be a creature of the night, forever in hiding.
And I can't remember my name.
The dreams are well-formed now. My head has cleared in them. So unlike the early dreams, which I can barely remember. They are no more than a montage of blurred images now—a lightning-drenched laboratory, a whip-wielding hunchback, fear, a stone-walled cell, chains, loneliness, a little girl drowning among floating blossoms, a woman in a wedding gown, townsfolk with torches, fire, a burning windmill, pain, rage, PAIN!
But I'm all right now. Scarred but healing. And my mind is clear. The pain from the fire burned away the mists. I remember things from dream to dream, and more and more bits and pieces from long ago.
But what is my name?
I know I must stay out of sight. I don't want to be burned again. That's why I spend the daylight hours hiding here in the loft of this abandoned stable on the outskirts of Goldstadt. I sleep most of the day. But at night I wander. Always into town. Always to the area around the Goldstadt Medical College. I seem to be attracted to the medical college. The reason rests here in my brain, but it scampers beyond my grasp whenever I reach for it. One day I'll catch it and then I'll know.
So many unanswered questions in these dreams. But aren't dreams supposed to be that way? Don't they pose more questions than they answer?
My belly is full now. I broke into a pastry shop and gorged myself on the sweets left over from yesterday, and now I'm wandering the back alleys, drinking from rain barrels, peering from the shadows into the lighted windows I pass. There's a warm resonance within when I see a family together by a fire. Once I must have had a life like that. But the warmth warps into rage if I watch too long, because I know such a scene will never be mine again.
I know it's only a dream. But the rage is so real.
As I pass the rear of a tavern, the side door opens and two men step out. I stumble farther back into the shadows, wanting to run but knowing I'd make a terrible racket. No one must see me. No one must know I'm alive. So I stay perfectly still, waiting for them to leave.
That's when I hear the voice. The deep, delicious voice of a handsome young man with curly blond hair and fresh clear skin. I know this without seeing him. I even know his name.
Karl.
I lean to my right and peer down the alley. My heart leaps at the sight of him. It's not my heart; it's the huge, ponderous heart of a stranger, but it responds nonetheless, thudding madly in my chest. I listen to his clear, rich laughter as he waves goodbye to his friend and strolls away toward the street.
Karl.
I follow. I know it's dangerous but I must. But I don't go down the alley after him. Instead I lumber along in the back alleys, splattering through puddles, scattering rats, dodging stinking piles of trash as I keep pace with him, catching sight of his golden-haired form between buildings as he strides along the pavement.
He's not heading for home. Somewhere in my head I know where he lives and he's headed in the wrong direction. I follow him to a cottage at the north end of Goldstadt, watch him knock, watch a raven-haired beauty open the door and leap into his arms, watch them disappear inside. I know her too.
Maria.
The rage spewing up in me is nearly as uncontrollable as it is unexplain- able. It's all I can do to keep myself from bursting through that door and tearing them both apart.
Why? What are these emotions? Who are these people? And why do I know their names and not my own?
I cool. I wait. But Karl doesn't appear. The sky lightens and still no Karl. I must leave before I am seen. As I head back toward the stable that has become my nest, my rage is gone, replaced by a cold black despair. Before I climb to the loft I pause to relieve myself. As I lower my heavy, crudely stitched pants I pray that it will be different this dream, but there it is—that long, thick, slack member hanging between my legs. It repulses me. I try to relieve myself without touching it.
I am a woman. Why do these dreams place me in the body of a man?
▼▼▼
Awake again.
I've spent the day talking, laughing, discussing the wisdom of the ages. Such a relief to be back to reality, back in my own body—young, lithe, smaller, smoother, with slim legs, dainty fingers, and firm, compact breasts. So good to be a woman again.
But my waking hours aren't completely free from confusion. I'm not sure where I am. I do know that it's warm and beautiful. Grassy knolls flow green through the golden sunshine toward the majestic amethyst- hued mountains that tower in the distance. Sweet little birds dart about in the hazy spring air.
And at least when I'm awake I know my name: Eva. Eva Rucker.
I just wish I knew why I was here. Don't misunderstand. I love it here. It's everything I've ever wanted. Friendly people wandering the hills, wise men stopping by to discuss the great philosophies of the ages. It's like the Elysian Fields I read about in Greek mythology, except I'm alive and this is all real. I simply don't know what I've done to deserve this.
I have a sense that I was brought here as compensation for an unpleasantness in my past. I seem to remember some recent ugliness in which I was unwittingly involved, unjustly accused, something so darkly traumatic that my mind shies from the memory of it. But the wrong was righted
and I've been sent here to recuperate.
I think of Karl and how he became part of my dream last night. Karl . . . so handsome, so brilliant, so dashing. I haven't thought of him since I arrived here. How could I forget the man I love?
A cloud passes across the sun as my thoughts darken with the memory of the dream-Karl in the dream-Maria's arms. Maria is Karl's sister! They would never!
How perverse these nightmares! I shouldn't let them upset me.
The sun reemerges as I push the memory away. It's wonderful here. I never want to leave. But I'm tired now. The golden wine I had with dinner has made me drowsy. I'll just lie back and rest my eyes for a moment . . .
▼▼▼
Oh, no! The dream again!
I'm in that horrid body, stumbling through the night. Can't I close my eyes even for a few seconds without falling into this nightmare? I want to scream, to burst from this cocoon of dream and return to my golden-lit fields. But the nightmare tightens its steely grip on me and I lurch on.
I stop at a school house. I'm hungry but there's something more important than food inside. I break down the door and enter the single classroom with its rows of tiny desks. I rip the top off one desk after the other and carry it to the shafts of moonlight pouring through the windows until I find the paper and pencil I seek. I bring them to the teacher's desk. I'm too large to seat myself, so I kneel beside the desk and force my huge ungainly fingers to grasp the pencil and write.
The Ultimate Frankenstein Page 9
