CHAPTER III
_Recalled to Life_
As Professor Jameson came to, he became aware of a strange feeling. Hewas sick. The doctors had not expected him to live; they had franklytold him so--but he had cared little in view of the long, happy yearsstretched out behind him. Perhaps he was not to die yet. He wondered howlong he had slept. How strange he felt--as if he had no body. Whycouldn't he open his eyes? He tried very hard. A mist swam before him.His eyes had been open all the time but he had not seen before. That wasqueer, he ruminated. All was silent about his bedside. Had all thedoctors and nurses left him to sleep--or to die?
Devil take that mist which now swam before him, obscuring everything inline of vision. He would call his nephew. Vainly he attempted to shoutthe word "Douglas," but to no avail. Where was his mouth? It seemed asif he had none. Was it all delirium? The strange silence--perhaps he hadlost his sense of hearing along with his ability to speak--and he couldsee nothing distinctly. The mist had transferred itself into a confusedjumble of indistinct objects, some of which moved about before him.
He was now conscious of some impulse in his mind which kept questioninghim as to how he felt. He was conscious of other strange ideas whichseemed to be impressed upon his brain, but this one thought concerninghis indisposition clamored insistently over the lesser ideas. It evenseemed just as if someone was addressing him, and impulsively heattempted to utter a sound and tell them how queer he felt. It seemed asif speech had been taken from him. He could not talk, no matter how hardhe tried. It was no use. Strange to say, however, the impulse within hismind appeared to be satisfied with the effort, and it now put anotherquestion to him. Where was he from? What a strange question--when he wasat home. He told them as much. Had he always lived there? Why, yes, ofcourse.
The aged professor was now becoming more astute as to his condition. Atfirst it was only a mild, passive wonderment at his helplessness and thestrange thoughts which raced through his mind. Now he attempted toarouse himself from the lethargy.
Quite suddenly his sight cleared, and what a surprise! He could see allthe way around him without moving his head! And he could look at theceiling of his room! His room? Was it his room! No-- It just couldn'tbe. Where was he? What were those queer machines before him? They movedon four legs. Six tentacles curled outward from their cubical bodies.One of the machines stood close before him. A tentacle shot out from theobject and rubbed his head. How strange it felt upon his brow.Instinctively he obeyed the impulse to shove the contraption of metalfrom him with his hands.
His arms did not rise, instead six tentacles projected upward to forceback the machine. Professor Jameson gasped mentally in surprise as hegazed at the result of his urge to push the strange, unearthly lookingmachine-caricature from him. With trepidation he looked down at his ownbody to see where the tentacles had come from, and his surprise turnedto sheer fright and amazement. His body was like the moving machinewhich stood before him! Where was he? What ever had happened to him sosuddenly? Only a few moments ago he had been in his bed, with thedoctors and his nephew bending over him, expecting him to die. The lastwords he had remembered hearing was the cryptic announcement of one ofthe doctors.
"He is going now."
But he hadn't died after all, apparently. A horrible thought struck him!Was this the life after death? Or was it an illusion of the mind? Hebecame aware that the machine in front of him was attempting tocommunicate something to him. How could it, thought the professor, whenhe had no mouth. The desire to communicate an idea to him became moreinsistent. The suggestion of the machine man's question was in his mind.Telepathy, thought he.
The creature was asking about the place whence he had come. He didn'tknow; his mind was in such a turmoil of thoughts and conflicting ideas.He allowed himself to be led to a window where the machine with wavingtentacle pointed towards an object outside. It was a queer sensation tobe walking on the four metal legs. He looked from the window and he sawthat which caused him to nearly drop over, so astounded was he.
The professor found himself gazing out from the boundless depths ofspace across the cosmic void to where a huge planet lay quiet. Now hewas sure it was an illusion which made his mind and sight behave soqueerly. He was troubled by a very strange dream. Carefully he examinedthe topography of the gigantic globe which rested off in the distance.At the same time he could see back of him the concourse of mechanicalcreatures crowding up behind him, and he was aware of a telepathicconversation which was being carried on behind him--or just before him.Which was it now? Eyes extended all the way around his head, while thereexisted no difference on any of the four sides of his cubed body. Hismechanical legs were capable of moving in any of four given directionswith perfect ease, he discovered.
The planet was not the earth--of that he was sure. None of the familiarcontinents lay before his eyes. And then he saw the great dull red ballof the dying sun. That was not the sun of his earth. It had been a greatdeal more brilliant.
"Did you come from that planet?" came the thought impulse from themechanism by his side.
"No," he returned.
He then allowed the machine men--for he assumed that they were machinemen, and he reasoned that, somehow or other they had by some marveloustransformation made him over just as they were--to lead him through thecraft of which he now took notice for the first time. It was aninterplanetary flyer, or space ship, he firmly believed.
25X-987 now took him to the compartment which they had removed him tofrom the strange container they had found wandering in the vicinity ofthe nearby world. There they showed him the long cylinder.
"It's my rocket satellite!" exclaimed Professor Jameson to himself,though in reality every one of the machine men received his thoughtsplainly. "What is it doing here?"
"We found your dead body within it," answered 25X-987. "Your brain wasremoved to the machine after having been stimulated into activity oncemore. Your carcass was thrown away."
Professor Jameson just stood dumfounded by the words of the machine man.
"So I did die!" exclaimed the professor. "And my body was placed withinthe rocket to remain in everlasting preservation until the end of allearthly time! Success! I have now attained unrivaled success!"
He then turned to the machine man.
"How long have I been that way?" he asked excitedly.
"How should we know?" replied the Zorome. "We picked up your rocket onlya short time ago, which, according to your computation, would be lessthan a day. This is our first visit to your planetary system and wechanced upon your rocket. So it is a satellite? We didn't watch it longenough to discover whether or not it was a satellite. At first wethought it to be another traveling space craft, but when it refused toanswer our signals we investigated."
"And so that was the earth at which I looked," mused the professor. "Nowonder I didn't recognize it. The topography has changed so much. Howdifferent the sun appears--it must have been over a million years agowhen I died!"
"Many millions," corrected 25X-987. "Suns of such size as this one donot cool in so short a time as you suggest."
Professor Jameson, in spite of all his amazing computations before hisdeath, was staggered by the reality.
"Who are you?" he suddenly asked.
"We are the Zoromes from Zor, a planet of a sun far across theUniverse."
25X-987 then went on to tell Professor Jameson something about how theZoromes had attained their high stage of development and had instantlyput a stop to all birth, evolution and death of their people, bybecoming machine men.
The Jameson Satellite Page 4
