Cyborgs -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
“Here’s my proposition, Bell,” the words jangled harshly, bringing to a
swift conclusion the doctor’s thoughts regarding the changed mental
status of his one-time friend. “I have decided what I want done. I’ll
admit that what I’m about to tell you will prove I have a mental quirk
which, by the way, corresponds to my physical quirks, but this thing has
become an obsession with me.”
The speaker leaned forward and held the other’s attention with a steady
gaze. He then resumed. “I am going to try out an experiment, or rather
have it tried out on me, for I shall be a passive factor in this case. I
am going to find out how much of this mortal coil I can shuffle off and
still maintain my personal identity as a piece of humanity here on
earth. In other words, as much of my body as can be removed and
substituted by artificial parts, I wish to have done.”
During Gregory’s recital David’s eyes had dilated in horror, and he
unconsciously recoiled from his visitor until the width of the room was
between them. Not a word could he utter. The seconds ticked away on the
little ebony clock on the desk and still the two men regarded each other
with unquestionable antagonism.
“Well, will you do it, Bell?” The man pointed significantly to the
surgical instruments and the operating table. “I have ample means to pay
you handsomely. I’m going to find out about this mortal body and its
relation to the soul before I die. You’ve robbed me of one desire of my
heart, but this you shall grant!”
At last Bell spoke, and with the sound of his voice his courage
returned. “George, whether you believe it or not, you are a madman and I
refuse to comply with your request. If, as you yourself maintain, with
the loss of every bodily member, your mental and spiritual powers have
waned, what in heaven’s name tell me, would you be with only enough of
your body left to chain your spirit to earth? I will not aid you in this
mad project of yours. Go, or shall I have you taken to the hospital for
the insane?”
George Gregory saw that further persuasion was useless. He walked toward
the outer office but at the doorway he turned and faced Bell. “There are
other surgeons in the world, and mark my words, I shall find out yet by
how slender a thread body and soul can hang together.”
The Artificial Man
------------------
Five years passed. David Bell married Rosalind Nelson and built up a
splendid reputation as a surgeon. Nothing had been heard in those years
of George Gregory. His memory passed as an evil dream and his name was
never mentioned. Then one day (it was shortly after the erection of the
new county hospital) David and a young interne by the name of Lucius
Stevens were putting away the instruments after an operation, when they
felt rather than heard the approach of an individual. Turning they
beheld the unfamiliar form of a stranger. He was a little under average
height. A cap covered the upper portion of his face and a long loose
overcoat concealed most of his figure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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