F. L. Wallace

“ When the results of the test sifted through the layers of red tape to the front office, Interplanet would contact the hospital, which would then really want to orient him to a frazzle.
Orientation sounded nice but it was not for Merrol. If they could orient everyone he would come in contact with as well—but how much insulation could a man build up against involuntary laughter? It was fine to be a comedian on the screen and then step out of character and relax—but what if you couldn't stop? Nobody could adjust to the constant expectation of hysterical mirth. ”

“ It was strange that she had believed him at all. But now that it was out in the open, he did remember some facts about spaceships. He felt he could manage a takeoff at this instant.
But why hadn't he told her? Shock? Perhaps—but where had those other identities come from—lepidopterist, musician, actor, mathematician and wrestler? And where had he got memories of wives, slender and passionate, petite and wild, casual and complaisant, nagging and insecure? ”

“ He had stretched Wysocki's theorem too far and it had failed.
"I had a wife once." The voice startled him, but he sat still, hoping to hear it again. Maybe they would tell him what to do. "Not so slender as Erica. Rather bouncy, in fact, but I liked her. Pity she ran away with a coleopterist. Never could understand what she saw in him." The voice grew sad. "Beetles!"
"My advice is that wives are easily come by," said a theatrical voice, modulated for effect. "But before he shuffles off this mortal coil to the last roundup, every man should have at least one wife like Erica." ”

“ They see me and flee as fast as they can caper, thought Merrol. It was not wholly true—Crander didn't seem much affected. But he was a doctor and used to it. Furthermore, he probably had room for only one emotion at the moment—relief at the return of his patient.
Miss Jerrems came back, wheeling a large cart. Dan was surprised at the mass of records. Crander noticed his expression and smiled. "You're our prize case, Merrol. I've never heard of anyone else surviving such extensive surgery. Naturally, we have a step-by-step account of everything we did." ”

“ Merrol located the autopilot switch and, reaching past the man, turned it on. With the same motion he whirled the pilot around. "Listen, friend, don't you want to go back?"
"No. Why should I?" The pilot was startled, but not intimidated.
"Engine trouble or something. You figure it out. I don't care what it is, as long as we get back." He half-hoped the man would object—physical action would be a relief. In an emergency, he could handle the ship himself—it was simpler than a spaceship.
The pilot squinted beyond and behind him. "Engines don't sound so good," he muttered. ”

“ The man with the light was frowning indecisively. "The guy on the broadcast?" he asked sharply.
"Nah," said Carl disgustedly. "That guy—you look at his picture and you have to bust out laughing. Now this fellow here—while he's a long way from handsome—is clearly the executive type, a man you can trust." Carl scrutinized him thoughtfully. Before Merrol could stop him, he reached out and plucked off the hat. "There's only one guy with three-colored hair, though, and you've got it," he said unbelievingly.
Merrol started to back away, but the body of the hoppicopter stopped him. ”

“ Merrol turned around. He was alone. There was no one behind him, though the pilot seemed convinced there was.
He had a partial answer to the pilot's strange reaction. He was a multiple personality and, normally latent, in times of stress the multi-personality became dominant and impressed itself psychologically on the observer. And if the mind received the impression of several men, the eye tried hard to produce evidence that would confirm it. ”

“ The announcer was finished talking to Dan Merrol alone. "Remember, all of you," he said briskly. "This man is neither a criminal nor insane. He is extremely withdrawn, as a result of unpleasant experiences. If you can induce him to come to Interplanet, or lead our representatives to him, you will receive a substantial reward. Here is his picture."
Merrol turned off the screen and scowled. He didn't like that last. He intended to take their offer, but he wanted to be free to walk the streets. He could settle that easily enough by just calling Interplanet. ”

“ The hospital didn't seem to have a calming influence on either her or the doctor. "That's why I came here. I'm not sure who I am. I thought I was Dan Merrol."
Doctor Crander tried to fight his way through the desk. Being a little wider and solider, though not by much, the desk won. He contented himself by wiping his forehead. "Our missing patient," he said, sighing with vast relief. "For a while I had visions of...." He then decided that visions were nothing a medical man should place much faith in. ”

“ The doctor gave him a scandalized look. "Do you think we're unethical? There is such a woman as we described, one of our staff. We do have other donors, but we think you can do more for her. In a fit of despondency, this woman wandered into the extraterrestrial room without the customary protection, hoping to catch something—and she did." Crander frowned. "The only way we altered facts was to use your wife's photo. It was her idea. Furthermore, it is true that a pretty girl gets a better response—and, of course, Erica wanted you back." ”

“ You know what constitutes a rocket crew—pilot, radio man, engineer and several lesser technicians, each of whom knows only his own job. Although you'll never sit at the controls again—through you, we can help others."
The announcer lowered his voice now. "You can unlock specialization for us. In the future, each man will concentrate on what particular aptitudes he has, then share it, via surgery, with others whose knowledge complements his own. ”

“ Women were different. They invariably laughed first—Erica too, in spite of the general sympathy she must have felt for him. In what did the difference lie? That too he would have to determine—later.
The pilot looked at him dizzily, beseechingly. Merrol decided he must be pouring it on, though he felt no different. "Remember, I can get up here in an awful hurry," said Merrol, "so no tricks." The pilot nodded and clung helplessly to the controls. He wouldn't cause any trouble. Merrol raised his arm in a gesture. "Come on, fellows." ”

“ He was not a man, Merrol thought. Not now. If anything, he was a convention and one body was not a large enough hotel to hold it in comfort.
"These were the major human donors, but there were others I didn't bother to read, for the kidneys and so on. And I think our four-footed friends deserve some mention." He looked up. "The skin on your face is from a pig embryo."
That explained why it was hard to shave. "Oink?" he said. "I mean did it have to be a pig?"
"You'd be surprised how hard it is to transplant human skin," commented Crander. "Besides, we wanted to give you a masculine look. ”

“ At that time, she must have half-believed he was Dan Merrol, still dangerously near the edges of post-regrowth shock.
She was looking at him, waiting for that explanation. He shook his mind frantically and the words came out. "Self-therapy," he said briskly. "The patient alone understands what he needs." She started to interrupt, but he shook his head and went on blithely. "That's the first corollary of the theorem. The second is that there are critical times in the recovery of the patient. ”

“ The hospital and Interplanet were working together and now they had brought in Erica. How gullible did they think he was and how much had they offered her for this? It might not be money, though—they might have convinced her it was to Dan's own best interest that they get in touch with him immediately.
They were baiting him crudely and if they weren't, there were others who could respond as well as he. There must be hundreds in the vicinity, scores at any rate, who could qualify. There were enough without him, depending on how often the blood fraction was needed. Crander hadn't said. ”

“ Merrol turned away miserably. There were other things, but he had learned the essentials. He was Dan Merrol and there was nothing they could do for him until it was too late. How long could he expect Erica to wait?
The doctor hadn't finished the medical session. "Replacement of body parts is easy, after all. The big trouble came when we went into the brain."
"Brain?" Dan was startled.
"How hard do you think your skull is?" Crander came closer. "Bend your head."
Merrol obeyed and could feel the doctor's forefinger slice across his scalp in a mock operation. "This sector was crushed." ”

“ You're the most exciting challenge a woman can have. Even if she doesn't know why, as I didn't then, it's still there—half a dozen men, and all of them in one monogamous package."
Now that she put it that way, he could see why she hadn't been able to resist. He could see that there were few women who could. He glanced at a framed photograph of the handsome pre-accident Dan Merrol that stood on the bureau. ”

“ His attention was caught by the program which was flickering across the aisle. Doctor Crander—Merrol frowned. Did the hospital want him too? He listened intently. No, they didn't want him.
Crander sounded tired. "This is an emergency appeal and we'll need a wide response. We have in our care a person with a serious illness we can't diagnose. With so much interplanetary travel we can't determine what causes the disease. It may be an organism from a moon of Saturn or almost anything else.
"Our staff is working at top speed. We feel, if we can keep her alive for one week, she'll be out of danger. ”

“ A week ago, we considered removing you from the regrowth tank. Our decision to leave you there an extra week has paid off very, very nicely."
Merrol wasn't as pleased as the doctor appeared to be. "Granted you can identify me as the person who came out of regrowth—but does that mean I'm Dan Merrol? Could there be a mistake?"
Crander eyed him clinically. "We don't ordinarily do this—but it is evident that with you peace of mind is more important than procedure. And you look well enough to stand the physical strain." ”

“ If you have any thoughts of self-destruction because of what must seem a strange condition, put them aside. You're much saner than the average man."
Merrol listened, smiling at the remark. No matter what they thought, he couldn't seriously contemplate suicide. There were too many others to dissuade him.
Nevertheless, it was hard to understand and accept the sudden change of his status. He had formerly been a mere employee, but now....
The announcer hadn't finished. "In the beginning, Dan, I said you had done everything right, whether you knew it or not. ”

“ True, it may not be esthetically harmonized, but here we delve into the mysteries of the human organism, and we can hardly be striving for Botticelli bodies and Michelangelo men. First, your hand moves freely at the joint, a triumph of surgical skill." He moved the hand experimentally, to show Merrol how it was done. He dropped the hand and hurried to a screen against the wall.
Crander drew his finger across the surface and the mark remained. "You know about Rh positive and negative blood. Mixed, they can be lethal. ”

“ Takeoff and landing were always rehearsed on the pilot's own time. The ends of a voyage were critical and it was essential to have an undistorted reaction. Besides, neither took long.
The time between one planet and the next was long and nothing much happened, so it could be shortened without deleterious effect on the results. Tempathy drugs shortened it, though not completely. Part of a man's consciousness went along at normal speed and the rest, that which counted in jockeying rockets, was enormously telescoped.
It telescoped on Merrol. ”

“ But most of that time you were floating in gelatin in the regrowth tank, unconscious until yesterday." She leaned forward and caressed his cheek. "Everything seems wrong, no matter how hard I try to believe otherwise. You don't have the same personality—you can't remember anything." ”

“ Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital. It would have been easier to convince her there. But he'd been frantic to get home. "It was quite a smashup," he said. "You'll have to expect some lapses."
"I'm making allowances. But can't you tell me something about myself?"
He thought—and couldn't. He wasn't doing so well. "Another lapse," he said gloomily and then brightened. "But I can tell you lots about myself. For instance, I'm a specialist in lepidoptera."
"What's that?"
"At the moment, who knows? Anyway, I'm a well-known actor and a musician and a first-rate mathematician. ”

“ He accompanied Dan into a room unlike the others. For one thing, it might have been the control room of a ship. Forward, there was the usual clear view. The stars were there too, in an adaptation of the planetarium. Outside, arranged to give any effect from top acceleration to free fall, were a number of gravity coils. Except for the pilot—and Merrol would play that role—there was a full complement of officers who were invisible.
The tester flicked on a machine. "I'll give you Mars, because that's your usual run. This is a short drive, because you're in a favorable position. Got it?" ”

“ The one directly opposite was a repeat of the broadcast he had heard a few hours previously. He scowled and looked away. If it hadn't been a night plane, in which people sought sleep, he would certainly have been spotted. Apathy was his best protection. He hunched down in his seat and dozed off.
When he awakened, the familiar Interplanet program was at his elbow. He reached to change stations, then on impulse let his hand continue past the knob until he felt the ash tray. He unfastened the heavy article and poked it through the screen. ”