From the depths of infinity came a menace so dreadful Clark Dane could not comprehend the danger. Yet his subconscious knew, crying out: Bring Back My Brain! By Dwight V. Swain [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy April 1957 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] It was a world without a past or future; a shining shadow-world borne of sheer madness, a thousand echoing eternities beyond all space and time. Now the pulsing radiance grew brighter--so bright it sent pain-tipped needles stabbing through Clark Dane's brain. He writhed under its relentless, throbbing pressure; tried to draw back, to cry out. But the strange lethargy still clung to him, all-encumbering as a leaden pall. As in a nightmare, he lay prostrate, paralyzed, unable to move or speak. Numbly, he wondered if he were dead. Only then the silent laughter rose again--taunting; chilling--and he knew that life still stirred within him. The face came with the laughter, floating through the swirling radiance as a shadow drifts through fog. Hollow-cheeked, hollow-eyed, hairless as a sand-scoured, tide-washed skull, it hovered before Dane like a living death's-head, closer than ever before. Where previously had he known this Being-Without-A-Name, Dane wondered? What malicious trick of circumstance had brought the two of them together? Only those were things somehow beyond his powers of recall at the moment; questions that, strangely, seemed to find no answers within his aching brain. Shuddering, he squeezed the eyes of his mind tight shut against the spectre. But the face would not go away. Smirking, sardonic, evil, deep-lined with old sins, it hung motionless now, as if mocking Dane in his torment while it reiterated its eternal theme: "I am your master, slave! Bow down! Bow down to your creator! Acknowledge your serfdom here and now!" In spite of himself, Dane cringed. "Say it, you fool! Say you are my slave!" "No, damn you! Never; not ever...." "You dare not deny me! You know it!" The malevolent eyes in the death's-head skull gleamed hot and bright as fire-jewels--probing, penetrating, skewering to the core of Dane's very brain. "Say it, I tell you! Say you are my slave!" Dane's jaws ached with pressure. Desperately, he tried to fight the nightmare image from his mind. "Acknowledge me, slave! I am your master!" Dane's senses reeled. He was panting now. "I--I--" "Say it!" "I--am--your slave...." Thin, cruel lips peeled back from stained teeth in a grimace of sadistic triumph. The soundless, soulless laughter rang forth louder than ever. Dane sobbed aloud.