The Very Best of F & SF v1 (12 page)

Contrary to my
earlier impressions of him, I realize that Dr. Nemur is not at all a genius. He
has a very good mind, but it struggles under the spectre of self-doubt. He
wants people to take him for a genius. Therefore, it is important for him to
feel that his work is accepted by the world. I believe that Dr. Nemur was
afraid of further delay because he worried that someone else might make a
discovery along these lines and take the credit from him.

Dr. Strauss on
the other hand might be called a genius, although I feel that his areas of
knowledge are too limited. He was educated in the tradition of narrow
specialization; the broader aspects of background were neglected far more than
necessary even for a neurosurgeon.

I was shocked to
learn that the only ancient languages he could read were Latin, Greek, and
Hebrew, and that he knows almost nothing of mathematics beyond the elementary
levels of the calculus of variations. When he admitted this to me, I found
myself almost annoyed. It was as if he’d hidden this
part
of himself in order to deceive me, pretending—as do many people I’ve
discovered—to be what he is not. No one I’ve ever known is what he appears to
be on the surface.

Dr. Nemur
appears to be uncomfortable around me. Sometimes when I try to talk to him, he
just looks at me strangely and turns away. I was angry at first when Dr.
Strauss told me I was giving Dr. Nemur an inferiority complex. I thought he was
mocking me and I’m oversensitive at being made fun of.

How was I to
know that a highly respected psychoexperimentalist like Nemur was unacquainted
with Hindustani and Chinese? It’s absurd when you consider the work that is
being done in India and China today in the very field of his study.

I asked Dr.
Strauss how Nemur could refute Rahajamati’s attack on his method and results if
Nemur couldn’t even read them in the first place. That strange look on Dr.
Strauss’s face can mean only one of two things. Either he doesn’t want to tell
Nemur what they’re saying in India, or else—and this worries me—Dr. Strauss
doesn’t know either. I must be careful to speak and write clearly and simply so
that people won’t laugh.

May 18
I am very disturbed. I saw Miss Kinnian last night for the first
time in over a week. I tried to avoid all discussions of intellectual concepts
and to keep the conversation on a simple, everyday level, but she just stared
at me blankly and asked me what I meant about the mathematical variance
equivalent in Dorbermann’s
Fifth Concerto.

When I tried to
explain she stopped me and laughed. I guess I got angry, but I suspect I’m
approaching her on the wrong level. No matter what I try to discuss with her, I
am unable to communicate. I must review Vrostadt’s equations on
Levels of Semantic Progression.
I find that I don’t communicate with people much anymore. Thank God
for books and music and things I can think about. I am alone in my apartment at
Mrs. Flynn’s boardinghouse most of the time and seldom speak to anyone.

May 20
I would not have noticed the new dishwasher, a boy of about
sixteen, at the corner diner where I take my evening meals if not for the
incident of the broken dishes. They crashed to the floor, shattering and
sending bits of white china under the tables. The boy stood there, dazed and
frightened, holding the empty tray in his hand. The whistles and catcalls from
the customers (the cries of “hey, there go the profits!”..
“Mazeltov!”
... and “well,
he didn’t work here very long...” which invariably seems to follow the breaking
of glass or dishware in a public restaurant) all seemed to confuse him.

When the owner
came to see what the excitement was about, the boy cowered as if he expected to
be struck and threw up his arms as if to ward off the blow.

“All right! All
right, you dope,” shouted the owner, “don’t just stand there! Get the broom and
sweep that mess up. A broom... a broom, you idiot! It’s in the kitchen. Sweep
up all the pieces.”

The boy saw that
he was not going to be punished. His frightened expression disappeared and he
smiled and hummed as he came back with the broom to sweep the floor. A few of
the rowdier customers kept up the remarks, amusing themselves at his expense.

“Here, sonny,
there’s a nice piece behind you...”

“Cmon, do it
again...”

“He’s not so
dumb. It’s easier to break ’em than to wash ’em...”

As his vacant
eyes moved across the crowd of amused onlookers, he slowly mirrored their
smiles and finally broke into an uncertain grin at the joke which he obviously
did not understand.

I felt sick
inside as I looked at his dull, vacuous smile, the wide, bright eyes of a
child, uncertain but eager to please. They were laughing at him because he was
mentally retarded.

And I had been laughing
at him too.

Suddenly, I was
furious at myself and all those who were smirking at him. I jumped up and
shouted, “Shut up! Leave him alone! It’s not his fault he can’t understand! He
can’t help what he is! But for God’s sake... he’s still a human being!”

The room grew
silent. I cursed myself for losing control and creating a scene. I tried not to
look at the boy as I paid my check and walked out without touching my food. I
felt ashamed for both of us.

How strange it
is that people of honest feelings and sensibility, who would not take advantage
of a man born without arms or legs or eyes—how such people think nothing of
abusing a man born with low intelligence. It infuriated me to think that not
too long ago I, like this boy, had foolishly played the clown.

And I had almost
forgotten. I’d hidden the picture of the old Charlie Gordon from myself because
now that I was intelligent it was something that had to be pushed out of my
mind. But today in looking at that boy, for the first time I saw what I had been.
I
was just like him!

Only a short
time ago, I learned that people laughed at me. Now I can see that unknowingly I
joined with them in laughing at myself. That hurts most of all.

I have often
reread my progress reports and seen the illiteracy, the childish naïvete, the
mind of low intelligence peering from a dark room, through the keyhole, at the
dazzling light outside. I see that even in my dullness I knew that I was
inferior, and that other people had something I lacked—something denied me. In
my mental blindness, I thought that it was somehow connected with the ability
to read and write, and I was sure that if I could get those skills I would
automatically have intelligence too. Even a feeble-minded man wants to be like
other men. A child may not know how to feed itself, or what to eat, yet it
knows of hunger.

This then is
what I was like, I never knew. Even with my gift of intellectual awareness, I
never really knew.

This day was
good for me. Seeing the past more clearly, I have decided to use my knowledge
and skills to work in the field of increasing human intelligence levels. Who is
better equipped for this work? Who else has lived in both worlds? These are my
people. Let me use my gift to do something for them.

Tomorrow, I will
discuss with Dr. Strauss the manner in which I can work in this area. I may be
able to help him work out the problems of widespread use of the technique which
was used on me. I have several good ideas of my own.

There is so much
that might be done with this technique. If I could be made into a genius, what
about thousands of others like myself? What fantastic levels might be achieved
by using this technique on normal people? On geniuses?

There are so
many doors to open. I am impatient to begin.

PROGRESS REPORT 13

May 23
It happened today. Algernon bit me. I visited the lab to see him as
I do occasionally, and when I took him out of his cage, he snapped at my hand.
I put him back and watched him for a while. He was unusually disturbed and
vicious.

May 24
Burt, who is in charge of the experimental animals, tells me that Algernon
is changing. He is less co-operative; he refuses to run the maze anymore;
general motivation has decreased. And he hasn’t been eating. Everyone is upset
about what this may mean.

May 25
They’ve been feeding Algernon, who now refuses to work the
shifting-lock problem. Everyone identifies me with Algernon. In a way we’re the
first of our kind. They’re all pretending that Algernon’s behavior is not
necessarily significant for me. But it’s hard to hide the fact that some of the
other animals who were used in this experiment are showing strange behavior.

Dr. Strauss and
Dr. Nemur have asked me not to come to the lab anymore. I know what they’re
thinking but I can’t accept it. I am going ahead with my plans to carry their
research forward. With all due respect to both of these fine scientists, I am
well aware of their limitations. If there is an answer, I’ll have to find it
out for myself. Suddenly, time has become very important to me.

May 29
I have been given a lab of my own and permission to go ahead with
the research. I’m on to something. Working day and night. I’ve had a cot moved
into the lab. Most of my writing time is spent on the notes which I keep in a
separate folder, but from time to time I feel it necessary to put down my moods
and my thoughts out of sheer habit.

I find the
calculus of intelligence
to
be a fascinating study. Here is the place for the application of all the
knowledge I have acquired. In a sense it’s the problem I’ve been concerned with
all my life.

May 31
Dr. Strauss thinks I’m working too hard. Dr. Nemur says I’m trying
to cram a lifetime of research and thought into a few weeks. I know I should
rest, but I’m driven on by something inside that won’t let me stop. I’ve got to
find the reason for the sharp regression in Algernon. I’ve got to know if and
when it will happen to me.

June 4

LETTER TO DR.
STRAUSS (copy)

Dear Dr.
Strauss:

Under separate
cover I am sending you a copy of my report entitled, “The Algernon-Gordon
Effect: A Study of Structure and Function of Increased Intelligence,” which I
would like to have you read and have published.

As you see, my
experiments are completed. I have included in my report all of my formulae, as
well as mathematical analysis in the appendix. Of course, these should be
verified.

Because of its
importance to both you and Dr. Nemur (and need I say to myself, too?) I have
checked and rechecked my results a dozen times in the hope of finding an error.
I am sorry to say the results must stand. Yet for the sake of science, I am
grateful for the little bit that I here add to the knowledge of the function of
the human mind and of the laws governing the artificial increase of human
intelligence.

I recall your
once saying to me that an experimental
failure
or the
disproving
of a theory was
as important to the advancement of learning as a success would be. I know now
that this is true. I am sorry, however, that my own contribution to the field
must rest upon the ashes of the work of two men I regard so highly.

Yours truly,

Charles
Gordon

encl.:rept.

June 5
I must not become emotional. The facts and the results of my
experiments are clear, and the more sensational aspects of my own rapid climb
cannot obscure the fact that the tripling of intelligence by the surgical
technique developed by Drs. Strauss and Nemur must be viewed as having little
or no practical applicability (at the present time) to the increase of human
intelligence.

As I review the
records and data on Algernon, I see that although he is still in his physical
infancy, he has regressed mentally. Motor activity is impaired; there is a
general reduction of glandular activity; there is an accelerated loss of
co-ordination. There are also strong indications of progressive amnesia.

As will be seen
by my report, these and other physical and mental deterioration syndromes can
be predicted with statistically significant results by the application of my
formula.

The surgical
stimulus to which we were both subjected has resulted in an intensification and
acceleration of all mental processes. The unforeseen development, which I have
taken the liberty of calling the
Algernon-Gordon Effect
, is the logical extension
of the entire intelligence speed-up. The hypothesis here proven may be
described simply in the following terms: Artificially increased intelligence
deteriorates at a rate of time directly proportional to the quantity of the
increase.