Recalled To Life By Robert Silverberg Illustrated by BILL BOWMAN _It was the greatest scientific breakthrough of all time: reanimation after death. The trouble was, it created more problems than it solved._ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Infinity June and August 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] CHAPTER I That morning James Harker was not expecting anything unusual to happen. He had painstakingly taught himself, these six months since the election, not to expect anything. He had returned to private law practice, and the Governorship and all such things were now bright memories, growing dimmer each month. _Morning of an Ex-Governor._ There was plenty to do: the Bryant trust-fund business was due for a hearing next Thursday, and before that time Harker had to get his case in order. A pitiful thing: old Bryant, one of the glorious pioneers of space travel, assailed by greedy heirs in his old age. It was enough to turn a man cynical, Harker thought, unless a man happened to be cynical already. He reached across his desk for the file-folder labeled BRYANT: Hearing 5/16/33. The sound of the outer-office buzz trickled into the room, and Harker realized he had accidentally switched on the inter-office communicator. He started to switch it off; he stopped when he heard a dry, thin voice say, "Is the Governor in?" His secretary primly replied, "Do you mean Mr. Harker?" "That's right." "Oh. He--he doesn't like to be called the Governor, you know. Do you have an appointment with him?" "I'm afraid not. Terribly foolish of me--I didn't realize I'd need one. I don't live in New York, you see, and I'm just here for a few hours--" "I'm extremely sorry, sir. I cannot permit you to see Mr. Harker without an appointment. He's _extremely_ busy." "I'm quite aware of that," came the nervous, oddly edgy voice. "But it's something of an emergency, and--" "Dreadfully sorry, sir. Won't you phone for an appointment?" To the eavesdropping Harker, the conversation sounded like something left over from his Albany days. But he was no longer Governor of New York and he was no longer the fair-haired boy of the National Liberal Party. He wasn't being groomed for the Presidency now. And, suddenly, he found himself positively yearning to be interrupted. He leaned forward and said, "Joan, I'm not very busy right now. Suppose you send the gentleman in." "Oh--uh--Mr. Harker. Of course, Mr. Harker." She sounded startled and irritated; perhaps she wanted to scold him for having listened in. Harker cut the audio circuit, slipped the Bryant file out of sight, cleared his desk, and tried to look keenly awake and responsive.