Thirty Strange StoriesWells, H. G. (Herbert George)
Science
Thirty Strange Stories
Wells, H. G. (Herbert George)
Fantasy fiction, English; Science fiction, English; Short stories, English
And in London is Elvesham
beginning life again in a vigorous body, and with all the accumulated
knowledge and wisdom of threescore and ten. He has stolen my life.
What has happened I do not clearly know. In the study are volumes of
manuscript notes referring chiefly to the psychology of memory, and
parts of what may be either calculations or ciphers in symbols
absolutely strange to me. In some passages there are indications that he
was also occupied with the philosophy of mathematics. I take it he has
transferred the whole of his memories, the accumulation that makes up
his personality, from this old withered brain of his to mine, and,
similarly, that he has transferred mine to his discarded tenement.
Practically, that is, he has changed bodies. But how such a change may
be possible is without the range of my philosophy. I have been a
materialist for all my thinking life, but here, suddenly, is a clear
case of man’s detachability from matter.
One desperate experiment I am about to try. I sit writing here before
putting the matter to issue. This morning, with the help of a
table-knife that I had secreted at breakfast, I succeeded in breaking
open a fairly obvious secret drawer in this wrecked writing-desk. I
discovered nothing save a little green glass phial containing a white
powder. Round the neck of the phial was a label, and thereon was written
this one word, “_Release_.” This may be—is most probably, poison. I can
understand Elvesham placing poison in my way, and I should be sure that
it was his intention so to get rid of the only living witness against
him, were it not for this careful concealment. The man has practically
solved the problem of immortality. Save for the spite of chance, he will
live in my body until it has aged, and then, again, throwing that aside,
he will assume some other victim’s youth and strength. When one
remembers his heartlessness, it is terrible to think of the ever-growing
experience, that—How long has he been leaping from body to body? But I
tire of writing. The powder appears to be soluble in water. The taste is
not unpleasant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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