with us, help us; we want you to be one of us."
"I? I'm an old man, Mr. Camberton. I will be dead before thiscivilization falls; how can I help build a new one? And how could I, atmy age, be expected to learn this technique?"
"Paul Wendell says you can. He says you have one of the strongest mindsnow existing."
The Senator put his pipe in his jacket pocket. "You know, Camberton, youkeep referring to Wendell in the present tense. I thought you said hewas dead."
Again Camberton gave him the odd smile. "I didn't say that, Senator; Isaid they buried his body. That's quite a different thing. You see,before the poor, useless hulk that held his blasted brain died, Paulgave the eight of us his memories; he gave us _himself_. The mind is notthe brain, Senator; we don't know what it _is_ yet, but we do know whatit _isn't_. Paul's poor, damaged brain is dead, but his memories, histhought processes, the very essence of all that was Paul Wendell isstill very much with us.
"Do you begin to see now why we want you to come in with us? There arenine of us now, but we need the tenth--you. Will you come?"
"I--I'll have to think it over," the old statesman said in a voice thathad a faint quaver. "I'll have to think it over."
But they both knew what his answer would be.
Transcriber's Note
This etext was produced from _Future Science Fiction_ No. 30, 1956.Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyrighton this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errorshave been corrected without note.
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