_Well--out with it, woman! Did you enjoy your first day off in almost
three weeks?_
Her voice was happier than he had heard it in days. "I went shopping,
George, for the first time in months, and really splurged. Got a new
outfit. You should see me."
_I wish I could._
"You will soon enough."
_What do you mean by that?_
"Your body's ready. You move in tomorrow."
_Thank God! Tomorrow! It is--rather hard to believe, after all this
time! I'm going to have a body._ He could almost feel a lump form in
his throat, only of course he didn't have a throat--yet. _I don't know
if I'm going to like having to put up with the pains of the flesh
again._
She laughed. Then her voice turned wistful, or maybe it was just his
imagination. "Not only the pains, George, but the pleasures, too."
_Yeah._ He was silent for a moment. Then he forced his voice to be
light. _I can't wait for those eyes, Karen. Tell me about the outfit.
What color is it--how does the cloth feel? Tell me all about it, Karen._
* * * * *
The next day, Karen warned him just before Dr. Chase released the
sedative into his blood supply. George peacefully went into a deep,
dreamless sleep. In his mind, he could still hear Karen's voice
speaking gently to him, assuringly.
Almost instantly, it seemed, he was awake, though it took hours. The
first thing he was conscious of was a dull throbbing pain in his
head--and then he realized--_it was in his head_!
Vaguely at first, then sharply, as nerves clicked into action, he could
sense his arms and legs.
He tried moving them, experimentally. It was a painful process.
There was sound, he realized suddenly--a low, subdued noise level. But
there was no _light_!
_Karen! Karen!_ he thought sharply.
Still just that low noise level. An electric fan going somewhere.
_Karen!_ This time he felt the muscles of his throat contract. His
breath came out in a sigh of satisfaction. He had been sub-vocalizing
through long habit!
"Karen." He said it; he heard his voice.
"George! You made it!" Karen was there.
"Karen," he said again. A little quavering, but it was a voice.
"Karen!" he sobbed. "I can't see!"
"Silly!" she laughed. "Of course not--there's a bandage over your
eyes. The optic nerve is very delicate. The doctors have to give the
nerve-endings--the nerve-graft--more time to heal. Another three days
and you'll be able to see."
A low moan from his throat. "Then," he said, haltingly, "you're still
only a voice."
"Not quite," she said. She touched his cheek. Cool, soft fingers. "That
better? Now you're the one who needs some sleep."
"Karen," he said.
Silently, she took his hand in hers.
* * * * *
At noon of the fourth day, they removed the bandages from his eyes.
The blinds were drawn on the windows, but still the light was
staggering. George squinted until his eyes became accustomed to the
brightness. Then he focused them on various items in the room.
He had just flipped the sheets back from his body and was commenting
proudly to himself, "I'm more of a man than I thought," when the door
opened.
George looked up, startled.
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was in the doorway.
"Hi," she said, her voice as soft and vibrant as ever.
"Karen!"
She was staring, unashamed, at the body George had just fully
uncovered. "Wow!" she said.
George scrabbled for the sheets, pulled them over him.
"You should knock," he said, starting to laugh.
She came over to the foot of the bed, and slowly turned around for him.
"Well, how about me? Are you disappointed?" Her voice had an intimate,
challenging quality.
"Sweetheart," he said slowly, looking at her for what it seemed to
George was the first time, "you are lovely. You're more than I ever
dreamed. And I don't care what you say or think of me for saying this,
but I love you. I've loved you since I first heard your voice. I know
it's impossible--no woman could ever knowingly fall in love with me--a
freak, a brain in a bottle--but that can't stop me from loving you.
Maybe it's just that I'm so happy to have a body again after so long
that makes me say this...."
She had come around the corner of the bed, and was sitting on the edge
of it now. There were tears in her eyes and her hands were clasped over
his. "I know, George," she said slowly, when he had stopped. "I felt
the same way as you--when I got my new body--but I didn't have anyone
to say it to."
His eyes widened in disbelief. His mouth worked for several seconds
before the words would come. "You...."
She nodded slowly. "George, don't you remember many months ago--the
night of your accident on the El ... there was a girl on the train with
you...."
He stared at her, sudden amazement in his eyes. "Of course I
remember--but--you--you mean _you are_...."
"Yes, George. I'm the same girl--different body, of course. My case
wasn't as tough as yours. Your brain was close to death for quite
awhile before you regained conscious thought."
He looked at her incredulously. "But you said _I_ was the first to ever
go this far...."
Her face was close to his, her lips smiling. "I said you were the first
_man_ to pull through. I was praying for you George. I needed you--as
much as you thought you needed me...."
As his arms closed about her, there wasn't much else for either to
say....