“Ras Thavas,” I said, “you have long been training me to this end. I have labored assiduously to prepare myself that there might be no slightest cause for apprehension as to the outcome. You have, coincidentally, taught me that one’s every act should be prompted by self-interest only. You are satisfied, therefore, that I am not doing this for you because I love you, or because I feel any friendship for you; but you think that you have offered me enough in placing before me a similar opportunity for immortality. “Regardless of your teaching I am afraid that I am still somewhat of a sentimentalist. I crave the redressing of wrongs. I crave friendship and love. The price you offer is not enough. Are you willing to pay more that this operation may be successfully concluded?” He looked at me steadily for a long minute. “What do you want?” he asked. I could see that he was trembling with anger, but he did not raise his voice. “Do you recall 4296-E-2631-H?” I inquired. “The subject with the body of Xaxa? Yes, I recall the case. What of it?” “I wish her body returned to her. That is the price you must pay for this operation.” He glared at me. “It is impossible. Xaxa has the body. Even if I cared to do so, I could never recover it. Proceed with the operation!” “When you have promised me,” I insisted. “I cannot promise the impossible—I cannot obtain Xaxa. Ask me something else. I am not unwilling to grant any reasonable request.” “That is all I wish—just that; but I do not insist that you obtain the body. If I bring Xaxa here will you make the transfer?” “It would mean war between Toonol and Phundahl,” he fumed. “That does not interest me,” I said. “Quick! Reach a decision. In five tals I shall press this button. If you promise what I ask, you shall be restored with a new and beautiful body; if you refuse you shall lie here in the semblance of death for ever.” “I promise,” he said slowly, “that when you bring the body of Xaxa to me I will transfer to that body any brain that you select from among my subjects.” “Good!” I exclaimed, and pressed the button. CHAPTER V DANGER Ras Thavas awakened from the anaesthetic a new and gorgeous creature—a youth of such wondrous beauty that he seemed of heavenly rather than worldly origin; but in that beautiful head was the hard, cold, thousand-year-old brain of the master surgeon. As he opened his eyes he looked upon me coldly. “You have done well,” he said. “What I have done, I have done for friendship—perhaps for love,” I said, “so you can thank the sentimentalism you decry for the success of the transfer.” He made no reply. “And now,” I continued, “I shall look to you for the fulfilment of the promise you have made me.”