by Stan Mason
‘It sounds the most appropriate way to undertake research,’ commended Craig. ‘What happens after that?’
‘Well,’ continued Attwood. ‘The special serum takes four minutes to seal the brain and I wrap medical tape around the neck to prevent fluids drifting to the body. Then the head is sawn off. Three quarters of the area is secured by the cranium and the other quarter is hermetically sealed so that no energy can escape. The head is then secured to a pedestal and placed in one of the rooms of the museum for public exhibition. The system of operation is perfect. We couldn’t ask for anything better.’
‘When we last spoke, you explained some of your future plans,’ intruded the new partner, almost overwhelmed at the prospects for his work. ‘It’s so fantastic... almost impossible to comprehend. I can hardly imagine the impact if we get it right.
‘That’s just it,’ Attwood told him. ‘No one will ever know. The world will be at our feet and we’ll be able to do anything we want. Who could wish for anything more?’ His eyes opened widely like a man who had lost his sanity. ‘And it’s within our grasp. I tell you... it’s within our grasp!’ He raised himself up to his height of four feet eight inches and simmered down before continuing. ‘But we have to realise the research as yet is incomplete. We have some way to go and I need help. Naturally, I thought immediately of you and that’s why I offered you the partnership. We can tackle this project together and remain equal partners.’
‘I’m very grateful to be offered the opportunity,’ commented Craig. ‘It’s something I’ve always dreamed about. Independent scientific research with no criticism or interference from anyone else, and funding in place without the worry that it might be reduced or removed altogether.’
The senior scientist nodded in agreement. ‘That’s why I’m so excited. I want to develop existing and future brains by further processes, some of which are unproved at present. You see, brains can communicate by means of thoughts transmitted to human-beings. In time, we may be able to ensure our products can communicate the thoughts we wish them to send. I believe we can marshal an army of brains in due course capable of influencing the thoughts of everyone else on this planet. We could actually rule the world from this museum... and no one would be any the wiser. But we need more brains. Lots more. This wax museum is an ideal place to house them... thousands of them... and no one will have any idea what we’re doing. By the way, I have details of a man you might like to head-hunt shortly. He looks very much like Martin Luther King. He’s out of work and needs money. I suggest we take our targets in turn. Is that all right with you?’
‘I don’t have a problem with that,’ answered Craig enthusiastically.
Attwood smiled and moved towards the body of Doris Kinnear. ‘Fine! Well we’d best get on with it. Hold her tightly round the shoulders will you? We must be precise or the head won’t look right on the pedestal.’
He lifted a large surgical saw from a rack on the wall and, within seconds, began to amputate her head!
Double-Take
Destiny had linked them together from childhood. In fact, it would never have happened if the two men had not been extremely close friends. History records it was Roland and Oliver who were equally matched in everything they did; in real life it was Ben Collins and Tim Stevens. Their colleagues often commented that whenever Ben was around Tim would be there too... and vice versa. The two men were of similar appearance, the same height, similar weight and physique, each one almost the Narcissus of the other, giving the impression they were brothers... if not twins. Not surprisingly, as their families lived next door each other, their lives became intertwined from a very early age. They attended the same school together, were pupils in the same class, went on school trips, played in the school playground, and ended up almost every evening in each other’s homes. Weekends were no different. The two boys were always in each other’s company. They became members of the Boy Scouts, the same youth club and, when they grew older, ventured together on sporting activities such as football, squash, tennis and badminton. They even went on holiday together at home and abroad. Ultimately, after leaving school, not surprisingly they found employment at the same engineering company.
Despite the fact that they were regarded by some people as lively local lads, their spectator activities were few and far between. Occasionally, they attended football matches or went to a horse-race track, but their main leisure time was spent ogling at members of the female sex and drinking an inordinate number of pints of beer at one of the local inns. Their knowledge of the female sex, without doubt, was extremely limited due to shyness, a modicum of immaturity, and mostly because of lack of experience. Ultimately, when they met their partners, Betty and Tina, and eventually married them, neither had ventured very far into the field of romance, tactile tenderness, or profound intimacy. Nor did they understand much about the way that women think, relying on natural instincts where the ways of the world were concerned. They became engaged to their respective partners within a short time of each other and set out to purchase houses so that they lived next door each other. Life became blissful and nature had its way for each family was gifted with a child. Fortunately, their wives were women with similar personalities and so, like the men, they became very good friends as well. In the two decades which passed, all four of them were blessed with a remarkable friendship, overcoming all obstacles reflecting the trivial squabbles and arguments that tend so often to affect relationships between husbands and wives and close friends. As such, the two families lived together in peace and harmony, enjoying between them a degree of respectable familiarity.
During the twenty years which passed, they pursued their interests together all the time. The Collins’s would not consider going on holiday without the Stevens’s each year, often camping and touring the countryside in two cars, with tents on their roof-racks and car-boots filled with food and equipment. However, when the children reached an age of maturity, the teenage desire for independence was too strong for family unity, and they chose their own holidays with people of their own age. Ben discussed the matter with Tim, Betty and Tina and suggested that the four of them should fly to the Continent on a package holiday to enjoy the experience of a second honeymoon. Everyone agreed it was a good idea and eventually they booked into adjoining rooms at the Hotel Miramar, a three star hotel, on the Costa del Sol to start their new adventure without the children. For practically two weeks, the sun shone non-stop throughout the day against the backcloth of a pure blue sky and they all became beautifully tanned and relaxed. On the penultimate evening, they sat at a table near the bar with a large jug of Sangria. As time went on, they imbibed far too much of it until all of them became close to inebriation. In due course, the ladies decided to venture to the powder-room leaving the men to their own devices, and that was the moment when fate took a hand. Ben had been nursing a middle-age crisis for some considerable time, although it was not apparent to anyone else and he cared not to air the malady in public. Taking his courage in his hands, he leaned across the table to his life-long friend, allowing the effect of the wine to overcome his shyness in a very delicate matter.
‘I’ve got a confession to make to you,’ he declared sadly, rocking unsteadily as he faced the other man. Tim leered at him, trying to focus his attention on his good friend. ‘All my life I’ve been awkward and clumsy where women are concerned,’ he admitted freely. ‘I’ve watched all the Romeos, the Gigolos, and the Valentinos who know exactly what to say and how to charm the fair sex into all kinds of submission. They whisper the right things at the right time, caress a woman the way she wants... in the right places... and always seem to get the best out of it. Well I’m not that sort of chap. With me it’s always been different. And I know it’s my fault although I’ve heard tell it’s often the skill of the woman in love-making which makes the whole thing worthwhile. You see, the truth is that I’ve been involved with only one woman in my life. Just the one woman. I was never int
imate with anyone else. Never. The other day, I was laying on the beach thinking we were almost at the end of the holiday and I thought what would happen if the plane crashed on the way home and my life suddenly ended? What a pity it would be to die without ever having experienced intimacy with another woman... .just to find out what it’s like. After all, unless one has that kind of experience with someone else before marriage... or they stray afterwards... what certainty is there that one is carrying out love-making properly or made a good bargain or a bad deal in respect of a wife? There must be thousands... maybe millions... of people in the same boat as myself who would like to find out.’
There was an exceptionally long pause during which Tim considered the matter with difficulty, straining the words through his befuddled brain. He filled their glasses from yet another jug of Sangria, stealing a small slice of lemon which he chewed slowly, reflecting the sharp taste by the expression on his face. ‘S’funny’ he slurred eventually. ‘Great minds think alike! As you know, I used to boast about my prowess with women when I was young but it was really nothing more than bravado. I’m not ashamed to admit it now. Like you, I never went out with many women... never seemed to have the charisma to make them swoon or the touch to make them go weak at the knees. For years, when we went to the cinema, I watched the actors in films to copy their attitudes, their actions, and their words with women. Then I’d go home and practice the same situations ... the same words... in front of the mirror. But it wasn’t any good. But as soon as I went out with my next date, my mind went blank, my hands sweated, and I became all fingers and thumbs. It irked me that I never seemed to excite women or thrill them. But you obviously have something in mind or you wouldn’t have brought up the subject. What is it?’
Ben shrugged his shoulders as though he suddenly became too embarrassed to answer the question. ‘We’ve always been good friends ever since we were kids,’ he replied. ‘It seems now we both desire to make love to another woman to satisfy our own minds. Neither of us wants anything as sordid as an affair with some floozy or anything like that. Just a one-off love-making session so that we know what it’s like to be with another woman. That’s why I think we should play it safe?’
‘Play it safe? How do you mean?’
‘Well if we don’t want to get involved with other women, why don’t we simply swap our wives for one night. Then we can put the whole thing to rest and forget about it. But at least we’ll know what it’s like to experience another woman.’
‘That’s a great idea!’ shouted Tim, who always had a soft spot in his heart for Ben’s wife, Betty. He had often run his eyes over her attractive body, enjoying the ride over her ample breasts, her narrow waist, and curvaceous hips. When lust rose fully inside him, he had felt a tremendous urge to take her in his arms... even to take her to his bed. However, he had always controlled himself and allowed his feelings to remain a fantasy. ‘I’ll go along with that but how are we going to break it to them?’ he went on. ‘They won’t go for such an outrageous idea, will they?’
‘Well,’ continued Ben excitedly, following the agreement of his friend. For years he had considered Tina as a ‘slim-line’ beauty, admiring in secret her blonde hair, her beautiful face with its pale skin, and her lovely long legs. He had always wanted to hold her, touch her and kiss her. ‘Betty has led a sheltered life. I’m sure the same notion must have entered her head at some time in her life. You see, at home in England everyone has to be the model of respectability for fear that someone else will find out... friends, the neighbours, gossips, enemies, and so on. But this is Spain. We’re only here for a fortnight in all. One more night, in fact. No one needs to know except the four of us.’
‘If the women agree,’ slurred Tim unsteadily, ‘we ought to have a set of rules to make sure everything goes right.’ He was eagerly looking forward to the new experience.
‘Rules?’ riposted Ben, running his tongue over his lips which seemed to be getting drier all the time. ‘What sort of rules?’
Tim shrugged his shoulders, drifting slightly to one side. ‘We don’t want to embarrass the ladies... or ourselves for that matter, do we?’ He burst into a fit of drunken laughter as a series of unfitting thoughts intruded into his mind. ‘I suggest that each lady collects the key to her room to make their way there first by themselves. We can join them later. Secondly, everything has to take place in the dark. No lights, curtains drawn together, complete darkness. Thirdly, I think it’s important that no one’s allowed to speak, otherwise it might spoil everything.’ He hiccupped and took another sip from his glass.
‘Why’s that?’ asked Ben, his mind becoming befuddled through a surfeit of Sangria.
‘So that no one will be put off, you dope! Women can be very skittish if a strange voice whispers sweet-nothings in their ears in the dark. You know what they’re like. They want to develop relationships. Well we haven’t time for all that. Fourthly, after everyone’s satisfied, I think you and me should meet in the snooker room at, say, three o’clock in the morning.’
‘What on earth for?’ asked Ben, becoming irritated that his simple idea was being translated into something far more complicated than he could ever have imagined.
‘To avoid embarrassment, of course. Neither of the ladies will want to wake up at daylight to find us in their beds. It wouldn’t be right. We’ve got to get out of the rooms before dawn. And lastly, as the ladies will have taken the keys with them to gain access to the rooms, they’ll have to leave the doors slightly open for us, otherwise we won’t be able to get into the rooms.’
His friend looked at him with a drunken leer, trying to see him through the mist which had formed a cloud in front of his eyes. ‘How come you worked out all these rules when it was my idea in the first place... and I only suggested it a minute ago?’
Tim released a peal of drunken laughter and then became extremely serious. ‘I’ve thought about it many times before myself,’ he admitted candidly. ‘But never dared to mention it. And never with our wives. I always though we’d find a couple of floozies at the pub one evening... perhaps a couple of women passing through our part of the town... and try it out with them. It must be the Sangria. We don’t normally drink wine except with a meal. And let’s face it, we’re not used to anything but draught beer. But, if you like, I’ll have a word with Tina to check her reaction to the idea. I mean to say, she hasn’t had much experience with men either. I’m the only lover she’s ever had.’
When the two women returned from the powder-room, they sat down and sipped their Sangria delicately. Tim drew Tina aside and they left the bar to stand by one of the pillars in the marble hallway. Ben could see them through the window as his friend outlined the suggestion to his wife. He watched Tina step back with a shocked expression on her face and she stared at him as though he had lost him mind before striking him brutally on the shoulder. Then she began to gesture angrily with her hands, obviously castigating him for exploring the idea with her. They were seen to argue for a while until they returned to their friends in the bar.
‘Betty!’ she cried, almost shaking with anger. ‘I’d like a word with you outside. This minute, if you don’t mind!’ The other woman rose indelicately, for she too was becoming woozy under the influence of the Spanish wine. Nonetheless, she was puzzled by the irate attitude of her companion and followed her into the hallway. ‘Do you know what those two have been up to?’ demanded Tina, almost stamping her foot with temper.
Betty stared at her bleakly. ‘Go on, tell me. What have they been up to?’ she repeated, as a smiled touched the edges of her lips.
‘They want us to swap partners for tonight! That’s what they want to do?’
‘You’re not serious!’ laughed Betty, believing it to be a joke. ‘You mean me sleep with Tim and you with Ben?’
‘That’s exactly what they want to do?’
Betty burst into laughter. ‘Cheeky devils! Well, if you want
me to be honest, you’ll not get much satisfaction from my old man. He’s so boring in bed I can tell you every little piece of the design on the bedroom ceiling. But now you mention it, I can’t remember how long it is since we last did it.’
‘Well,’ riposted Tina. ‘Now that we’re getting down to brass tacks, I fell asleep the last time Tim tried to make love to me.’
They commiserated with each other for a while and spent the next ten minutes comparing the sad notes of their sexual relationships.
Ben sat back with a glass in his hand as he watched the women discuss the matter at length. At first, Tina was furious but, in due course, she simmered down and kept nodding as Betty took the reins.
‘This is really a golden opportunity, Tina,’ she explained unsteadily. ‘A golden opportunity. They’re drunk. Well you know what the boys are like... with their little plans. We’ll arrange it so they think their plan has worked but, in reality, they’ll be fooled. And they’ll have to pay through the nose for it. We’re not going to let them think they can get away with blue murder for free. My Ben will sleep with me, but he’ll think it was you. I’ll make certain of that. And Tim will sleep with you but he’ll think it was me.’
Tina stared at her friend blankly. ‘Do you think we can get away with it, Betty?’
‘Good heavens!’ replied the other woman. ‘Just look at them. They’re already three sheets to the wind. They’ve got no idea what’s going on! I doubt whether they’ll even make it to the bedroom. But one thing’s certain... we’ll do very nicely out of it. You leave it to me!’
