_Hell's Laboratory_
The huge room was absolutely free of all sounds from anywhere save
within itself. The walls, the floors, the doors were of chrome steel.
The cages were iron-ribbed and ponderous.
The long table which ran down the strange room's center was covered
with retorts, test tubes, Bunsen burners--all of the stock-in-trade of
the scientist who spends most of his time at research work. The man
who bent over the table was well past middle age. His hair was
snow-white, but his cheeks were like rosy red apples. He literally
seemed to glow with health. He was like a strange flame. His hands
were slender, the fingers long and extraordinarily supple. His lips
were redder even than his cheeks, and made one, strangely enough,
think of vampires. His eyes were coal-black, fathomless, piercing.
On the bronze wall directly across the table from the swiftly laboring
man was a porcelain tablet set into the bronze, and in the midst of
the table were a score of little push-buttons. Above each was a red
light; and below, a green one.
Several inches below each green light was a little slot which
resembled a tiny keyhole, something like the keyhole in the average
handbag. There was a key in each hole, and from each key hung a length
of gleaming chain which shone like gold and might have been gold, or
at least, some gold-plated metal. On the dangling end of each chain
was another key which might have been the twin of the key in the hole
above.
In the space between the keyholes and the green lights there were the
letters and figures: A-1, B-2, C-3, D-4 ... and so on up to T-20.
Plainly it was the beginning of a complicated classification system
with any number of combinations possible.
- - -
Behind the working man the row of cages partially hid the brooding
horror of the place. There were twenty cages--and in each one was a
sulking, red-eyed anthropoid ape. Plainly the fact that the number of
apes coincided with the number of push-buttons, and with the number of
keys, to say nothing of the red lights and the green lights, was no
accident. The apes were sullenly silent, proof that they feared the
man at the table so much that they were afraid to move.
At last the white-haired man stopped and breathed a sigh of
satisfaction. Carefully he placed in the middle of the table the
instrument which he had been examining. It looked like a slightly
concave aluminum plate or tympanum, save that on the apex appeared a
tiny ball of the same metal. Except for the color and the fact that
the thing was almost flat, it looked like a small Manchu hat.
"Naka Machi!" said the man suddenly in a conversational tone of
voice.
The chrome steel door swung open swiftly and silently and another man
entered. He was about the same height as the first man, but he was
younger and his eyes were blacker. His hair was as black as the wings
of a crow. He was a Japanese dressed in Occidental garb.
"Naka Machi," said the white-haired one again, "I have examined every
bit of the infinitesimal mechanism in the ball on this tympanum. It is
perfect. You are a genius, Naka Machi. There is only one genius
greater--Professor Caleb Barter!"
Naka Machi bowed low, and as he spoke his breath hissed inwardly through
his teeth after the Japanese manner of admitting humility--"that my
humble breath may not blow upon you"--which never needed really to
be sincere.
"I am merely a genius with my fingers, Professor Barter," said Naka
Machi in a musical voice. "The smaller the medium in which I work the
happier I am, Professor; and in that I am a genius. But the plan for
this so marvelous little radio-control, as you call it, came entirely
from your head, my master. I did exactly as the plans bade me. Will it
work?"
- - -
Caleb Barter's red face went redder still. His eyes shot flames of
anger. His lips pouched. Almost he seemed on the point of striking
down his Japanese assistant.
"Will it work?" he repeated. "Have you not just told me that you
followed my plans exactly? Have I not just now checked your every bit
of work and pronounced it perfect? Then how can it fail to work? Have
you another one ready?"
"Yes, my master. Now that I have perfected two, the work will become
monotonous. If the master wishes, I can create still another
radio-control, inside the head of a pin, which I should first render
hollow with that skill which only Naka Machi possesses?"
Caleb Barter almost smiled.
"It will not be necessary. But it will be necessary for you to make
eighteen additional radio-controls of the same size as this one, or
say make twenty-four so that we shall have some extra ones in case of
accident. These two will be put into action at once. Naka Machi, bring
me Lecky, completely uniformed as a smart chauffeur! Have you laid in
a store of clothing, as I bade you, to fit every conceivable need of
Lecky, Stanley, Morton and Cleve?"
"Yes, my master."
"Then bring in Lecky accoutered as a chauffeur."
Ten minutes later a young man entered behind Naka Machi. He was
slender and his chauffeur's uniform fitted him like a glove. He looked
like a soldier in it. Indeed his bearing, his whole stance, spoke of
many years as a soldier--and a proud one. The fellow was brimful of
health. His cheeks were rosy with vitality. He looked like a man with
health so abundant he never found means to tire himself to the point
where he could sleep dreamlessly.
But, nevertheless his arms hung listlessly at his sides. His eyes
seemed empty of hope, dull and lifeless, and one looked into those
eyes and shuddered. One tried to gaze deeply into them and found
oneself baffled. There was no soul behind them.
"Come here, Lecky," said Barter coldly.
- - -
Lecky glided effortlessly forward to stand before Barter.
"You've no brains, Lecky," said Barter emotionlessly; "no brains of
your own. You have a splendid body which moves only at the will of
Caleb Barter. I need that body for my purposes. But a man with brains
is dangerous. That's why you haven't any."
Barter now took the silvery tympanum with the ball atop it and set it
on the head of Lecky. On top of it he placed the chauffeur's cap,
bringing it down tightly to keep the tympanum in place.
"If I had it to do again I'd insert the tympanum under the skull as
part of the operation, Naka Machi," said Barter as he worked. "We'll
do that hereafter. And we begin work immediately. I'm going to send
Lecky out now to get the first subject."
"The first subject, sir?"
"Yes. Manhattan's richest man. A man must have brains to become
Manhattan's richest man, and I need men with brains. His name is
Harold Hervey. He will be leaving his office in the Empire State
Building in about half an hour. I want Lecky to be on hand to meet
him."
On his own head Barter placed a second tympanum which Naka Machi had
brought him. Over it he pulled a rubber cap, like a bathing cap with a
hole cut in the top.
"Now, we'll try it out, Naka Machi," said Barter. "Which one of these
lights is Lecky's?"
"B-2, my master."
Barter sat down under the light marked "B-2" and lifted the key which
dangled from the end of the golden chain. This key he inserted in a
tiny orifice in the ball atop his head. Then he turned in his chair to
look at Lecky. Barter's face was a mask of concentration as he gazed
intently at the young man.
- - -
Lecky stiffened to attention. His right hand shot to his cap visor in
salute. His lips twisted into a travesty of a smile. For a few seconds
he went through a strange series of posturings. He stood in the
attitude of a boxer preparing to attack. He danced smartly on his
toes. He bent double and touched the floor with the palms of his
hands. He jumped up and down with his legs stiff. He stopped suddenly
with his right hand at rigid salute. But his eyes were still vacant
through every posture.
Barter's face showed a glow of satisfaction.
"He did exactly what I willed him to do! I am his master. He is my
slave--even more abjectly than you are my slave, Naka Machi!"
"But that would be impossible, my master," said Naka Machi, hissing
again through his teeth as he sucked in his breath. "None could be
more abjectly your slave than I."
"Do not say anything is impossible," said Barter peevishly, "when I
say otherwise. Anything is possible to me! Now, we'll send Lecky
forth. I'll watch him through the heliotubes and control his every
move. While I am directing Lecky you will prepare the table behind me
for the first of our world-revolutionizing operations."
"Yes, my master," said the Japanese humbly.
"But first, it's just as well that Lecky is in a good humor, even
though he is my slave. Where are the walnuts, Naka Machi?"
The Japanese tendered a large walnut to Barter. Barter rose and
approached Lecky who still stood at salute. He stopped a couple of
paces in front of the soldierly man and held up the walnut as a man
sometimes holds up food to a dog, bidding him "speak" before he may be
fed.
- - -
Then Lecky did a strange thing.
He began to jump up and down like a pleased child. His jumping caused
him to lose his balance, but he recaptured it by pressing the backs of
his hands against the floor. His hitherto expressionless eyes lost
their dullness. Saliva dribbled at the corners of his mouth. Barter
tossed him the walnut. Lecky held it under his right forefinger,
against the _heel_ of his thumb, instead of between thumb and
forefinger, as he lifted it to his mouth.
Barter chuckled.
"Even the human casement cannot wholly hide the ape, eh, Naka Machi?"
said Barter.
Naka Machi hissed.
Barter returned to the porcelain slab banked with the lights and the
keys. He readjusted the keys and his face became thoughtful again.
Lecky turned smartly, still nibbling at his walnut, strode to the
bronze door and let himself out.
Through the heliotube directly above the key marked "B-2," Caleb
Barter watched him go, and kept watching him as he made his way to the
street. Barter looked ahead of his puppet, noting the cars which were
parked at the curb. He saw a stately limousine. He grinned. The
chauffeur was not in sight. Barter looked for him and found him at a
table in a nearby restaurant, his back to the window.
Barter looked back at his puppet and his face became serious with
concentration.
Lecky walked blithely along the street and turned right when he was
opposite the limousine. Without a moment's hesitation, he stepped into
the limousine, pressed the starter, shifted gears, turned in the
middle of the block and started swiftly uptown.
After Lecky had shifted gears he drove with his left hand alone. His
right was still busy with the walnut.
Barter now looked like a man in a trance, so deeply did he concentrate
on his task of guiding his soulless, ape-brained puppet, Lecky,
through the heavy traffic of Manhattan.