The Final Problem
          Len Rely          

---

        You've all heard about me and my employer, so instead of telling the same old story why don't I put a new spin on things? Its 1936 for Christ's sake, you can't just tell a story anymore. You have to spice it up, give it that extra something people want to see. It's a world of busybodies now and if you can't hold their attention they'll go busy themselves somewhere else. This is how the story goes. Trust me, I was there when he flipped the switch.
        My employer and I were on the road just out of New York looking for his "big break". I knew he was crazy from the start thinking that laboratories and test tubes were the way to get his name in lights, but I must admit this opportunity was right up his alley. The heading on the flyer read "Come see the world's leading scientists compete and test their theories on THE FINAL PROBLEM". Yes, immortality was a scoop, a media event sparked by public interest in the subject. There was no real sense in the convention or its publicity.
        Vic and I travelled in a neglected trailer that I referred to as the circus wagon. I drove the thing while his equipment filled up the back in sort of a mobile laboratory. It was absolutely pouring down on this night as I fumbled with the wheel and Vic sat next to me trying to find the correct route to the convention between lightning flashes.
        "Who the hell decided to hold this thing out in the boondocks?" he remarked angrily. "If we miss this chance I'll have to sell our friend back there for spare parts."
        We cleared a turn and the road became more visible, with a high hill rising in the distance above the trees. On the top was a comical-looking observatory like something out of that new H.G. Wells film. The white bolts coursing down behind the building lit up the sides like the metal sphere Vic had in the back that makes your hair stand up.
        "Look at the strength of those charges..." he said in awe. "This is a perfect night for doing this."
        With difficulty the vehicle climbed the winding road up to the building, and to our delight there was a civilized parking lot in the back. The rain had stopped for the moment but the lightning continued.
        "Perfect!" Vic whispered with that familiar look in his eye.
        We got out, removed our raincoats and checked our suits, then cordially examined the premises. The lot was absolutely packed, and by the voices coming from the lit doorway there must have been quite a party going on inside. On our way to the back door we passed almost enough vehicles to declare a media circus. Then Vic was distracted by something and meandered to the side of the lot for a minute. I straightened my tie and followed him.
        In the first dozen parking spaces near the side of the building was an assortment of vehicles that undoubtedly belonged to his competitors. At least six of these had each hauled a tall rectangular object about the size of a telephone booth. Vic approached the nearest one and pulled the rainfly off the top to see what it was.
        "What kind of convention is this?" he asked in amazement.
        The object was a human-sized wooden box like the kind magicians use to make a lady disappear. It was bright pink and covered with glitter, and on the front was scrawled in stunning calligraphy "THE AMAZING DEATH-DEFYING ELECTRICA".
        "She'll send currents down your spine?" Vic read the rest of it in disbelief.
        From the top of the box sprouted a large and very blatant lightning rod with many branches. By the shape of the other covered boxes they all had a similar antenna.
        "These are my competitors' devices!" he whispered with amusement. "They can't be serious. This is too good..."
        He wanted to give his own apparatus a quick check so he returned to the trailer and told me to take a look inside. Seeing the flashing of cameras I ran a comb through my hair and stepped through the lit doorway. As I entered the first thing I saw was a group of scantily-clad women in the center of the crowd. I decided right then that the boss was right, this was one hell of a good idea.
        Of the eleven test subjects that the other scientists had brought with them, eight were glamorous women with Kewpie-doll faces and plump thighs every one. The most outrageous model by far was Miss Electrica, who wore a bathing suit of glittering blue with a silver lightning bolt down the front. She had a fountain-like hairpiece resembling blue peacock feathers, and the cameramen could not get enough of her. The scientists themselves looked like showmen, and I felt ashamed for ever doubting that Vic would make it big dressed in a lab coat. Next to these guys he looked almost credible.
        Vic came in and did a double-take as I watched for his expression.
        "What is this a beauty pageant?" he said curiously.
        We made our way through the crowd. There were many simple spectators and a full refreshment table among other fineries. A familiar face recognized Vic and gave a laugh, prompting him to approach with a clenched fist in his pocket that only I could see.
        "Hello Victor..." the man said with a leer of disrespect. "I must admit I'm surprised to see you here. I thought it was required that each of the participants be a legitimate scientist, not an amateur who spent his youth following medical students home from class because he was banned from the campus."
        "Hello Gary..." Vic responded, his teeth clenched. "Now that I've seen what kind of convention this really is, I'm not surprised to see you at all."
        "Oh please." Gary replied. "There's at least one legitimate doctor here amongst the crowd-pleasers."
        "So which of these delightful vixens is yours?" Vic inquired.
        "None." Gary said. "My test subject is over here..."
        I followed the two rivals to a back corner away from the party lights where a limp figure was slumped in a chair, its face concealed by a black cowl. Otherwise it was dressed like a hospital patient. This person was alive in the technical sense, but something was definitely missing because the left arm exhibited an uncontrolled shaking movement as I watched with curiosity. Vic removed the black cloth from the comatose patient's face.
        "A cyclops?" he asked in puzzlement. "Whatever for? Why did you remove the other eye?"
        "You of all people should appreciate the irony." Gary replied. "You're the one who said a reanimated human being would be a monster. I simply put my superior surgical skills to work."
        "Is the other optic nerve still in there or did you remove it from the brain?"
        "It's in there and it's active." he said. "I had other uses for it to make the brain reanimable, and that is all I will tell you."
        Gary placed the cowl back over the subject's face.
        "Now, I'm curious to see your test subject." he said positively. "Have you invited him in here or is he unable to move about on his own?"
        "He's already dead." Vic stated.
        Gary's eyes widened and a smile traversed his face for only a second.
        "Ha!" he whispered. "Now that's a challenge! That would be the ideal way to prove the effectiveness of a perfect method! I hate to break this to you Victor, but reanimation is impossible without some amount of life already there. If any of these pretty girls are successful it will only take a split second for the body to be electrified and then recharged. Technically speaking, none of these test subjects will actually be 'brought back from the dead'. Why, is that what you thought this is?"
        Vic turned away from him and returned to the crowd. For the remainder of the party he introduced himself to sneering competitors or uninterested reporters while I made acquaintance with Miss Electrica and the other girls and wished them luck.
        "Could I have your attention, gentlemen." A mellow MC announced calmly from the back. "It's almost time for the big event. I'll need all of the contestants, so ladies tear yourselves from these gentlemen's arms and I promise to return them soon."
        Each of the scientists and their assistants excused themselves and made their way through the crowd one by one into the briefing room in the back. I followed Vic to our seats, and when everyone was accounted for the door was closed.
        The briefing room was rather small and congested. On either side of the podium in front of the projector screen sat a group of distinguished-looking judges accompanied by the MC and a pair of orderlies. Vic and I sat amongst the scientists in close quarters around the movie projector like a knit of college students at a poetry reading. One of the bearded judges advanced to the podium and spoke.
        "Gentlemen, you all know why you're here." he said in that pleasant voice that the announcers always use at the cinema before the curtains part. "We have gathered on this stormy night to solve that constant puzzle which mankind has dubbed 'The Final Problem', the question of our own mortality and the possibility of a solution. You have all studied the rare cases, where a human being presumed dead has turned out to be alive or even a doctor's diagnosis proves every symptom of death and yet the patient recovers. The question of where life precisely ends and death begins will not be solved tonight in its entirety, but it is our hope that one of you will touch upon the key before tomorrow dawns, some indication that travel from the grave back to life is possible. You have all seen the published research that electricity seems to be the key. That will be proven tonight, and the man who proves it will be awarded tomorrow before the waiting world by receiving the title of 'The Modern Prometheus' by this panel."
        Vic's eyes lit up at the sound of these three words.
        "It is the general consensus," the speaker continued, "that in some cases life and clinical death may overlap." "After tonight, we will hopefully know a little more about that realm. Each of you has a specific method such as momentarily inducing electroshock on the healthiest living patient you could find. Others have brought test subjects already in a near-death state, which is slightly more of a challenge but no less conceivable for success. As far as I know, this group represents every possible method short of actually bringing a corpse in here to enliven!"
        There were smirks all around and a stifled laugh from Gary. Vic slowly sank in his chair with a queasy look on his face.
        "Shedding some light on this age-old riddle will be the ultimate achievement." the speaker said, pointing a triumphant finger. "Just think of the publicity you can gain for yourselves and our field. This is a media event unlike any other, and together we can prove to the fame-centered world that Science can make the ratings and earn the funding we would not otherwise receive."
        Vic looked depressed. He had always said that his goal was to see his name in lights, but I knew him better than anyone and I could tell there were other incentives. He actually liked reading the old surgery textbooks that he added to his bookshelf whenever the library threw them out. As much as I criticize him for it, he had an honest interest in science and medicine, and in that objective he had never looked more alone than he did now in a room full of experts.
        The judge took his seat, and the MC stood looking at his watch.
        "The hour for the miracle is near, gentlemen." he said. "I suggest you assemble your equipment and prepare your test subjects. And if you need any help with the ladies, I'll be on hand with some equipment of my own..."
        There was some weak laughter as he straightened his tie with a congenial slant of a grin.
        "Dull-witted sleaze." Vic whispered.
        "The excitement will begin at One O'clock." the MC said. "We'll see you all on the roof."
        The moving process was no shortage of excitement. The other scientists unveiled their glittering pastel boxes before flashing cameras, each booth a different color with words like "THE INCREDIBLE VOLTAGE VIXEN" painted across the front. The scientist who sponsored Miss Electrica had a very simple strategy, the antenna on his device was twice as tall as any of the others.
        "I only use Suburban brand perfume in the Doctor's experiments." Miss Electrica informed the crowd as she modeled beside the apparatus and showed how the wired headpiece fits snugly in place like a high-voltage tiara.
        Gary wheeled his one-eyed monster up the ramp to the roof landing. Vic looked like he had a bout of stage fright regarding his creation still unseen in the vehicle.
        "Boss, are we going to get him out or not?" I asked, looking at the time.
        He nodded reluctantly. We immediately went to the back of the trailer and threw open the doors. I gathered up the equipment and watched curiously as he threw a blanket over our friend and wheeled the bed inside at full speed past the reporters.
        On the roof things were beginning to take shape. There was no rain and the closeness of the lighting was rather disturbing. The wide landing had been completely clear for the event, but each scientist had a cubicle erected around his particular area to hide their secrets from each other and achieve some separation. By the prescribed hour the area was divided into eleven little rooms with only the doors and ceilings missing. Vic was stuck with the only unreserved space which was quite cramped considering all the equipment we had.
        All of our usual stuff was assembled. The thing with the two wires that a strand of electricity travels up, the ball that makes your hair stand on end, the spark-wheel, and of course the elevating bed with the four shock-absorbing bedposts that look like aluminum barber poles. We donned our lab coats and goggles, primed the switchboard and were ready for action.
        "That's one ugly patient." the one reporter who noticed us had to comment as he passed. "You boys have nothing to worry about, nobody's gonna want to see that thing come back to life."
        To cut a long story short, we worked all night and at some point achieved Vic's dream. Now I know you're pretty tired of hearing what happened moment by moment so many times already, so I'll sum it up. I was really too busy at the switches to think, but one of the blinding flashes that hit the roof did the trick. The thunder and wind were so loud I couldn't make out exactly what Vic exclaimed when he saw our friend begin to move, but I think it was something like "Life! Life! Oh God, give my career a liiiiife!"
        That is how it happened, and the irony is, the miracle itself wasn't all that memorable to me. It was what happened after that sticks like glue. The Sun rose over the rooftop, its light waking me from a slumped position at the controls. I turned to see Vic hanging his head over the motionless body. He was as exhausted as I but was only beginning to nod off.
        "I'm sorry boss." I said, putting a hand on his shoulder thinking he was about to have a nervous breakdown.
        "Stop." he ordered calmly and with confidence. "I'm not convinced it was a failure. We'll wait an hour and see if any signs of life reappear."
        I nodded, impressed with his attitude. I told him I needed to do something to clear the cobwebs.
        "Check out my competitors, quickly now." he said. "There were multiple hits, a couple of which were not us. See if anyone was successful."
        I left the cubicle at once to see how the others had fared. The roof was bustling with activity but none of it positive as the scientists took down their equipment in disappointment. Most of the reporters had deserted the premises. The Voltage Vixen and several other girls had gone through a cold and uneventful night and were now loud and whiny, their pretty faces smeared with morning irritability. I watched one of them abandon her scientist with her nose in the air and a torn contract in her fist.
        I looked around for Miss Electrica and was dismayed to see her being carried out on a stretcher. The glitter on her pink box was now melted and the top was charred around the antenna. I was tempted to say something.
        "It's going to be fine." I told her as I knelt beside the stretcher and reached a hand up to her pretty face. "You lived through it, and are none the worse from what I can see. You'll be back on the model strip in no time."
        "Mmmuh mmm mmbuh..." she responded, staring as if I wasn't there.
        The orderlies carried her out. "...hired a nurse to spoon-feed..." was all I heard of their conversation as I blew her a kiss goodbye.
        I went to Gary's cubicle since I knew Vic would want a report on his progress. I peeked inside, and there was the scientist hanging his head in torment over the bed as I had expected Vic to do instead. Gary was alone, he had no assistants to comfort him, and the electric charge had killed his creature instantly.
        I was on my way back to Vic when I saw the MC take notice of his cubicle for the first time. He peeked inside, then casually walked away as if there was no one in there.
        I entered, and there was Vic sound asleep in a chair. The bed was empty, the blanket only slightly disturbed.
        "Vic?" I asked. "Where's the body?"
        He snorted and immediately stood up, blinking the sleep from his bloodshot eyes. He gave the bed one glance and a quizzical look came upon him.
        "No, no, no..." he muttered, looking from one side of the little room to the other as if there was room for the creature to hide itself.
        We burst out of the door at the same time, scanning the roof landing for any indication. One of the judges approached at once and shook Vic's hand vigorously.
        "Congratulations are in order!" he said triumphantly. "Victor is it? What an achievement you've made here for all mankind!"
        "I did?" Vic asked, completely oblivious. "How do you know it worked?"
        "How??" the judge responded. "Why I just saw your patient on his way out! Looked like he had a plane to catch or something."
        Vic put the palm of his hand to his forehead and walked backward into the cubicle as if his legs were made of rubber. He slumped down into the chair and was completely out by the look of him.
        The judge gave me a look of curiosity. I beckoned him to come closer, and whispered a lengthy explanation in his ear about how important this event was to my employer. The judge nodded and then went to where Vic was seated in delirium.
        "Young man, I've seen many scientists come and go in my time." he said with some attempt at sympathy. "It is an unsung and difficult profession in this day and age. People want TV stars, they want models and radio personalities. They don't put money into laboratories and test tubes unless they can get something out of it. Most of the men I've seen with credentials you'll never have were unable to generate interest in their profession and gave it up to become salesmen or announcers where the real funding is. You however have a freak opportunity the likes of which none of us have ever seen. Today when Mr. and Mrs. America open the morning paper your name will be the first thing they see. You'll have grants, seminars, a state of the art facility, and to begin with a schedule of appearances spanning a month in every major city you've ever heard of. Trust me Victor, your dream is about to begin."
        "Enough." Vic said calmly, raising a hand but keeping his gaze on the floor. "Here I am about to get everything I've ever wanted, and I find that I have to refuse. That's the irony. That is the final problem."
        "I don't understand." the judge responded.
        "Do you understand that my creation has escaped?" Vic said. "I have to find him. If I don't drop everything now I may never catch up with him. I don't even know this man I've revived, so how can I imagine the amount of havoc he is capable of causing out there? If I stay for the photographers and the awards I'll lose my only chance to correct whatever I have just unleashed upon the world."
        I stood next to Vic and put a hand on his shoulder like I always do. The judge said nothing, but eventually gave a nod of understanding and departed. Vic finally raised his head, and looking at the rising Sun over the edge of the roof he stood up to leave. We left the equipment where it stood and a note for the panel asking for the title of "The Modern Prometheus" to be postponed until a better time. Vic's work on the final problem would be prolonged for a while.
 

Copyright 1999 Len Rely