Edmond Hamilton - Captain Future 24 - Pardon My Nerves

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PARDONMY IRON NERVES

A Captain Future Novelet By Edmond HAMILTON

If you think Grag's an insensitive robot, read his own account of getting psychoanalysed

and repairing to Pluto's Fourth Moon !

CHAPTER I

Metal Man

DIDN'T want to do it. I, Grag, am not

given to talking about myself. When

Curt Newton suggested that I write up this

particular adventure for the case-book in

which he records our doings I refused at

first.

I said, "No, Curt, I'd rather not. You

know I'm not one to brag about my own

exploits."

"I know that," he said. "But since it was

you who where chiefly concerned in this

business with the Machs, and since you're

the only one who knows all the details you

should write the report on it."

Well, I had to agree. After all, Curt--

Captain Future--depends on me more than

on any of the other Futuremen. It's because

we think alike, I guess.

Of course Simon Wright was human

himself once--long ago before his brain

was transferred into the artificial serum-

case that is now his "body". But there's

something a little remote about Simon

even to Curt.

As for Otho, the other Futureman--

well, being an android or artificial man,

Otho looks human. But that's as far as it

goes. Otho just doesn't think the way we

do.

I'll admit that I, Grag, don't look so

much like other people. I'm a metal man,

seven feet high. Otho calls me a robot but

that's ridiculous--he merely does it

because he's jealous of me.

I've always been sorry for Otho. For his

limitations aren't his own fault.

You see, neither Otho nor I was born.

We were made, created by science of

Roger Newton, Curt's father, and of

Simon.

In their hidden laboratory on the

Moon--the same Moon-Laboratory that

we Futuremen now call home--they used

their scientific skill to create living beings.

I, Grag, was their first and supreme

creation. They made me of enduring metal,

metal limbs immense strength. I am

stronger than twenty men together. My

photo-electric eyes can see better and my

audio-circuit ears can hear better.

And my metal brain is just as superior in

its own way. It contains millions of

electronic synaptic circuits. That's why I

can think and act so swiftly.

I can still remember the look of awe on

the faces of my creators when they

observed the quickness with which I

learned.

I remember overhearing Roger Newton

tell Simon, "Grag is a great creation in his

way. But we'll try a different form, next

time."

Simon agreed. "We don't want to create

another one like him !"

BVIOUSLY they were a bit

frightened by the awesome

intelligence and power they had created in

me ! Naturally they felt that a few more

like me would make all other living

creatures obsolete !

That is why, when they created a second

artificial being, they ran no danger of

creating another super-being like myself

but instead chose the android form for

Otho because they wanted to make sure he

would have only a limited intelligence.

When Roger Newton and his young

wife died so tragically it was we Fu-

turemen--Simon and Otho and I--who

took care of little Curtis and reared him to

mankind.

I have to admit that I taught Curt most

of what he learned. Otho was too feather-

headed to teach anyone and Simon too

severe and impatient. Of course they

wouldn't let me spank Curtis, for my metal

hand would have crushed him. But I was

his chief tutor and guide.

And when Curt grew up and started

roving, winning the nickname of Captain

Future, he naturally leaned more on me

than on the others. Many a time my

resourcefulness saved the day when his

recklessness had got us into trouble. In fact

I've seldom let him go anywhere without

me.

But on the particular day when this

business of the Machs really started I was

on my own.

We had come to Earth so that Curt

might consult a certain bureau of the Solar

System Government. That gave me a

chance I'd been waiting for and I took it.

I said, "I'd like to go into New York

while you're holding your conference here

at Government Center, Curt."

He stared at me. "Whatever for, Grag ?"

"He probably wants to get his rivets

tightened," put in Otho.

That's Otho's way of showing his petty

jealousy of me--always playing upon the

fact that I'm made of metal. I simply

ignored him with calm dignity, as I always

do.

"Just a little private business," I told

Curt. "I won't be long."

He said, "Well, you'll startle the people

a little but everyone knows about Grag the

Futureman so I guess they won't be too

surprised. Go ahead, but be back by ten for

we're going back to the Moon then."

I left them and went to the tubeway

station. It was a rush-hour and the tube-

cars were crowded.

I created a mild sensation in the station.

Naturally, everyone had heard of me and

of the things I had done, with the help of

Curt and the others. I heard them

whispering my name in the train.

However I was too engrossed in my

own thoughts to pay attention to them.

The errand upon which I was going was a

serious one.

I hadn't told Curt about it lest he worry.

But the fact is that I was concerned about

my health.

Of course Otho would have laughed and

sneered, "How can a metal man seven feet

high get sick ?"

But it wasn't bodily sickness that

worried me. My problem was a

psychological one.

I've always had a delicate, sensitive kind

of mind. I guess it's because my metal

brain is just too brilliant. And lately I'd

been worrying a little about it.

It began when I happened to see a

televisor-play about a man losing his mind.

It showed how he neglected his complexes

until finally he went crazy.

"This could happen to you !" the

announcer had said. "Tune in next week

for another thrilling psychological drama,

presented by the Sunshine Company on

their Happiness Hour !"

His words struck me. "This could

happen to you !" I began to think. I had had

a feeling of depression lately--I was sure

of it. Probably I had complexes from

overworking my brain too much. The more

I thought about it the more I felt I'd better

see a specialist before I ended up the same

way.

I had already looked up the address of

an eminent psychoanalyst and I got off at

the right station and walked to his office.

New York was used to strangers--

Martians, Venusians and what-not from all

the planets. But they turned to look at me.

I paid no attention to their staring but

strode majestically on.

In Doctor Perker's office there was a

pretty girl receptionist and a half-dozen

people sitting waiting.

The receptionist didn't at first look up

from her writing as she asked, "Do you

wish to--"

She looked up, then, and her jaw fell

and she gulped. I had forgotten that to

anyone unused to me the sudden entrance

of a colossal metal man would be a little

upsetting.

I turned my photo-electric eyes

reassuringly upon her and told her, "Yes, I

want to see Doctor Perker as soon as I can.

My name is Grag."

She shrank away a little. "Do you mind

repeating the name ?"

I did and she said shakily, "If you could

come back next week ?"

"No, I'll wait," I said.

I went over to a corner and stood there,

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Edmond Hamilton - Captain Future 24 - Pardon My Nerves

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