From the depths of infinity came a menace
so dreadful Clark Dane could not comprehend the
danger. Yet his subconscious knew, crying out:
Bring Back My Brain!
By Dwight V. Swain
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
April 1957
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
It was a world without a past or future; a shining shadow-world borneof sheer madness, a thousand echoing eternities beyond all space andtime.
Now the pulsing radiance grew brighter—so bright it sent pain-tippedneedles stabbing through Clark Dane's brain. He writhed under itsrelentless, throbbing pressure; tried to draw back, to cry out.
But the strange lethargy still clung to him, all-encumbering as aleaden pall. As in a nightmare, he lay prostrate, paralyzed, unable tomove or speak.
Numbly, he wondered if he were dead.
Only then the silent laughter rose again—taunting; chilling—and heknew that life still stirred within him.
The face came with the laughter, floating through the swirling radianceas a shadow drifts through fog. Hollow-cheeked, hollow-eyed, hairlessas a sand-scoured, tide-washed skull, it hovered before Dane like aliving death's-head, closer than ever before.
Where previously had he known this Being-Without-A-Name, Dane wondered?What malicious trick of circumstance had brought the two of themtogether?
Only those were things somehow beyond his powers of recall at themoment; questions that, strangely, seemed to find no answers within hisaching brain.
Shuddering, he squeezed the eyes of his mind tight shut against thespectre.
But the face would not go away. Smirking, sardonic, evil, deep-linedwith old sins, it hung motionless now, as if mocking Dane in historment while it reiterated its eternal theme: "I am your master,slave! Bow down! Bow down to your creator! Acknowledge your serfdomhere and now!"
In spite of himself, Dane cringed.
"Say it, you fool! Say you are my slave!"
"No, damn you! Never; not ever...."
"You dare not deny me! You know it!" The malevolent eyes in thedeath's-head skull gleamed hot and bright as fire-jewels—probing,penetrating, skewering to the core of Dane's very brain. "Say it, Itell you! Say you are my slave!"
Dane's jaws ached with pressure. Desperately, he tried to fight thenightmare image from his mind.
"Acknowledge me, slave! I am your master!"
Dane's senses reeled. He was panting now. "I—I—"
"Say it!"
"I—am—your slave...."
Thin, cruel lips peeled back from stained teeth in a grimace ofsadistic triumph. The soundless, soulless laughter rang forth louderthan ever.
Dane sobbed aloud.
As if his reaction were a signal, the mocking face began to fade, backinto the eddying radiance from whence it came. Where it had hung, anew shape rose.
Inanimate, this one; yet clean-cut and graceful as any living thing.Slim, silvery, needle-sharp, it poised like a gigantic lance flungskyward from its squat, buttressed base.
Dane's raw nerves calmed a fraction. The dream-pain ebbed away.Fascinated, he studied the shining shaft.
For even as he first glimpsed it, he knew in a rush that his life,his fate, his very being, somehow were linked tight to it. Completelystrange to him, it yet held intangible elements of familiarity beyondall ordinary knowledge.
Now the shaft seemed to drift closer, just as had the face before