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The artificial man
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In: Short Stories·Science-Fiction & Fantasy·American Literature
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #76114.
The opening · free to read
By Clare Winger Harris
It is well established today that human beings can get along without a number of their usual organs. We have seen men deprived of their arms and legs who could still do useful work. There are men living, and seemingly little the worse for it, who have lost either an eye or a nose, or have only one kidney, and it is now possible even to have an artificial voice in case a part of the larynx and the vocal chords have to be removed through disease.
That science will discover more and more how to artificially replace human organs is a foregone conclusion. How far this process may go no one however knows. Recent experiments on animals have shown that it is even possible for a cat to live with an artificial rubber heart. These experiments are all of vast importance to humanity, because we may be deprived of a number of our organs by accident or disease.
The author of the present story has taken these thoughts as a basis of a most interesting narrative which is in its entirety based upon excellent science, and there is no telling that an exact counterpart of what she so vividly describes may not come about sooner or later.
On the annals of surgery no case has ever left quite as horrible an impression upon the public as did that of George Gregory, a student of Austin College. Young Gregory was equally proficient in scholastic and athletic work, having been for two years captain of the football team, and for one year a marked success in intercollegiate debates. No student of the senior class of Austin or Decker will ever forget his masterful arguments as he upheld the affirmative in the question:—“Resolved that bodily perfection is a result of right thinking.” Gregory gave every promise of being one of the masterful minds of the age; and if masterful in this instance means dominating, he was that—and more. Alas that his brilliant mentality was destined to degradation through the physical body—but that is my story.
It was the Thanksgiving game that proved the beginning of George’s downfall. Warned by friends that he would be wise to desist from the more dangerous physical sports, he laughingly—though with unquestionable sincerity—referred to the context of his famous debate, declaring that a correct mental attitude toward life—he had this point down to a mathematical correctness—rendered physical disasters impossible. His sincerity in believing this was laudable, and so far his credence had stood him in good stead. No one who saw his well-proportioned six-foot figure making its way through the opponents’ lines, could doubt that the science of thinking rightly was favorably exemplified in young Gregory.
But can thinking be an exact science? Before the close of that Thanksgiving game George was carried unconscious from the field, and in two days his right leg was amputated just below the hip.
During the days of his convalescence two bedside visitors brightened the weary hours spent upon the hospital cot. They were David Bell, a medical student, and Rosalind Nelson, the girl whom George had loved since his freshman year.
“I say, Rosalind,” he ventured one day as she sat by his bedside. “It’s too bad to think of you ever being tied up to a cripple. I’m willing to step aside—can’t do it gracefully of course with only one leg—but I mean it, my dear girl. You don’t want only part of a husband!”
Rosalind smiled affectionately. “George, don’t think for a minute that it matters to me. You’re still you, and I love you dear. Can’t you believe that? The loss of a bodily member doesn’t alter your identity.”
“That’s just what gets me,” responded her lover with a puzzled frown. “I have always believed, and do now, that the mental and physical are so closely related as to be inseparable. I think it is Browning who says, ‘We know not whether soul helps body more than body helps soul.’ They develop together, and if either is injured the other is harmed. Losing part of my body has made me lose part of my soul. I’m not what I was. My mental attitude has changed as a result of this abominable catastrophe. I’m no longer so confident. I feel myself slipping and I—oh it is unbearable!”
Rosalind endeavored to the best of her ability to reassure the unfortunate man, but he sank into a despondent mood, and seeing that her efforts at cheering him were unavailing, she arose and left him.
In the outer hall she met Bell on his way to visit the sick man. He noticed her troubled mien and asked if George were not so well today.
“Yes, David," she replied, a quiver in her voice, “the wound is healing nicely, but he is so morose. He has a notion—oh how can I tell it—a sort of feeling that some of his mental poise and confidence have gone with his lost limb. You will soon be a graduate physician, won’t you assure him that his fears are groundless?"
“I don’t know but that his case is one for the minister or psychologist rather than the medical man,” answered Bell. “His physical wound is healing, but it seems his mental wound is not. However, I will do my best, not only for your sake, Rosalind, but because I am interested in the happiness of my old college chum.”
Rosalind smiled her gratitude and turned abruptly away to hide the tears that she had held back as long as possible.
Five months passed, and with the aid of a crutch George made excellent headway in overcoming the difficulties of locomotion. If David and Rosalind noticed a subtle change in the disposition and character of their mutual friend, they made no further reference to it.
A Transformation ----------------
At length came a day when in the company of both of these faithful friends George Gregory announced his intention of using an artificial limb instead of a crutch. His sweetheart voiced immediate remonstrance.
“No, George, I’d rather see you walking with the visible aid of a crutch than to think of your using an artificial leg. Somehow it seems like hypocrisy, a kind of appearing to be what you aren’t. I know my idea is poorly expressed, but that’s the way I feel about it.”
A peculiar light came into Gregory’s eyes, a light that neither friend had ever seen there before. He straightened visibly, almost without the aid of his crutch. “I’ll walk yet as well as any one and maybe it will give me back my mental confidence. My mind shall triumph over my body as well as it ever did!”
The artificial leg was duly applied to the hip stump, and it really was amazing to observe the rapidity with which Gregory mastered the art of using it proficiently. Anyone unacquainted with his deformity would never have realized that he did not possess two normal legs.
And then came the automobile accident a week before the time set for the Nelson-Gregory nuptials. How George Gregory’s car was struck by an on coming truck, reduced to a junk-heap, and George thrown into a ditch, so that one arm was finally caused to be amputated, never will be known, for George had always been a careful driver. Even with his artificial leg he declared he had no difficulty in putting on the brake. The fall had, as was proved later, caused also internal injuries so that some of the bodily organs did not function properly.
The months that followed were to all who were closely concerned with the accident, like a descent into Hades. Dr. Bell, serving as an interne in the Good Samaritan Hospital, devoted himself untiringly to the tragic case of George Gregory. A world famous specialist was summoned in consultation concerning the internal injuries sustained by Gregory. Very little hope was held out for the life of the unfortunate man, although there was one chance; an artificial kidney[1]. The vigorous constitution of the invalid came to his rescue. He not only survived the operation but seemed to be in the best of health afterward.
And it is not to be wondered that Rosalind began to doubt whether her love for George Gregory could remain the same as before. Thrown constantly as she was in the company of Dr. David Bell, observing his devoted care and interest in George, she began to compare, or rather to contrast, the two men. George’s rapid deterioration was no longer a possible flight of the imagination. It was an actuality. It was no longer possible to overlook the meaning behind his words.
“God expresses Himself through the physical world,” he said when the three were together at George’s apartment on Kenneth Drive. “He is a Spirit, but He makes Himself manifest in the perfection of a physical world. As much of physical perfection as I have lost, that much of God or Goodness has left me and there are no two ways about it.”
Remonstrance was useless, so convinced was the invalid that his theories were correct. Also in his mind there grew steadily an ever increasing dislike for the friend of his college days, the doctor. He could no longer be blind to the fact that it was a struggle for Rosalind to be loyal to him. He was also aware of the growing affection that existed between David and Rosalind. From a dislike his feelings gradually changed to those of implacable hatred for his former chum.
1. An “artificial kidney” has been invented recently, and tried out successfully on dogs. A cylinder of glass contains a number of celloidin tubes which strain the poisons out of the blood.
The Parting -----------
At length after weary days and nights of indecision Rosalind came to the conclusion that she could not marry George Gregory. She longed to tell David of her feelings, but could not because she was conscious of her love for the young doctor. The subject of marriage had not been mentioned by either George or Rosalind since the second accident, but instinctively the girl felt that her lover’s previous offer at the time of his lost leg, to release her from their engagement, was not to be renewed; though he must have known that his qualifications as a husband were now fewer than they could possibly have been before.
The moment that Rosalind had dreaded came at last. They were strolling together one evening toward the outskirts of the town. The moon softened, with its silvery glow, objects that in the glare of noon stood out in too bold relief. As they left the highway for the river-path George said:
“Let us set a day for the wedding. I’ve waited long enough.” As he spoke he put around her waist an arm, not one with which nature had equipped him, but one so cunningly wrought that a casual observer would never have known. But Rosalind knew! She shuddered, and in that act, George Gregory knew that his doom was sealed.
“I can’t marry you, George,” she pleaded in a hoarse, unnatural voice. “I am sorry that it is so, but I cannot do it.”
The man laughed and the tones chilled the heart of the girl. “You said once that my identity remained, no matter what the physical imperfections of my body. Now you deny it!” His voice rose in his excitement.
“Listen, oh George,” she cried now thoroughly panic-stricken. “You are yourself allowing your mental attitude toward life to be altered. You have admitted it. Had you remained unchanged mentally, I truly believe your physical difference would not have mattered. I loved you for what you were, but, George, you are so changed!”
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