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Brainchild

Chapter 8
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the laboratory was in the basement of the building, an antiseptic room with the acrid odor of chemicals. dr. luther prepared something in a hypodermic syringe, while dr. minton strapped his former patient onto a padded examining table.

"doctor ..." ron whispered.

"hush, ron. it's all right...."

"but what is all this? who am i?"

the doctor frowned. "you're ronald carver. you're the same ronald carver you always were. but you have made an exchange of bodies. that is all."

"but why? how?"

"i don't really know. god help us. it was his project from start to finish—that thing upstairs."

"who is he?"

"a phenomenon. a mutation. a freak. a genius. a god. i can't explain him. he was born twelve years ago, to normal parents in the middle west. he was a recognized prodigy at the age of six months, a mathematical wizard at one, a scientific genius at three.... you've heard of this kind of thing, ron. once a generation, something like this. and once a millenium—a horror like this one."

"i don't understand! what is project scholar?"

"he is. all by himself. the government has taken charge of his abilities, at least for the time being." he snorted. "he's already done things i wouldn't have believed possible in five thousand years of evolution. and yet he is still only twelve years old...."

"only twelve?" ron squirmed in the straps. "doctor! this body—"

"yes, ron. it's his, of course. he grew angry with it; wanted to discard it, like everything else which doesn't fit his conception of the fitness of things. it was awkward—a giant's brain in a child's body. so he developed a solution—an operation, involving the total transference of electrical energy...."

the doctor's shaggy head bowed. "he needed human help for that. that's when i was brought in as assistant. and it was my function to select the perfect body as a temporary house for his ego...."

"temporary?"

"when this body ages and grows feeble, there will be another. our friend has outwitted death itself."

the doctor looked up, his jaw firm.

"i was instructed to destroy his body when the transference was completed. i couldn't do it, ron. i managed to spirit you away where you would be cared for. it was almost a year before you came to your senses after the operation. by that time, i didn't know what to do with you. my first thought was the roverwood home, where i am a director, where you would be lost among many, many boys' faces...."

"but why me, doctor? why me?"

"i had to choose someone, ron. it was merely a question of who...."

dr. luther entered, priming the needle.

"ready?" he said.

"one moment." the doctor's hand covered ron's mouth, and he felt the contours of a small round pill against his lips. he realized he was meant to swallow it, and he did.

"ready now," dr. minton said.

dr. luther performed the injection.

"good night, sweet prince," he said gently.

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