44-05-25_Donovans_Brain_Part_2.txt

Roma Wines presents Suspense Roma Wines made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Salud. Your health, senor. Roma Wines toast the world. The wine for your table is Roma wine, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is the Man in Black, here to introduce this weekly half hour of Suspense. Tonight from Hollywood, we again bring you Mr. Orson Welles, in the second of two consecutive performances starring Mr. Welles as the protagonist of Kutsjodmak's novel Donovan's Brain. and its sponsors, the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California, felt this story so unusual that it merited more than our usual time. So in somewhat of a departure from established radio formulas, we are bringing you the story of Donovan's Brain in two parts. Part one you heard last Thursday, and tonight you will hear part two, the completion of Donovan's Brain. But before we raise the curtain on our suspense play, let's for a moment wish ourselves away to Havana, Cuba. Seated at a table in the fashionable Hotel de Nacional de Cuba. Near us, a group of Cubans are entertaining an American visitor. Our American has just remarked that, in point of great enjoyment, the Cuban rumba is one of America's most delightful imported dances. And then, raising his wine glass, the Cuban host responds, Then we have perhaps discharged some part of our debt to you, Americans, for this wonderful tasting wine that gives us such great enjoyment. It is wine that Cuba imports from your faraway California. It is Roma wine. Americans didn't have to wait for wine connoisseurs of other lands to discover the greatness of California's wine district, the superb quality of Roma California wines. So many millions made this discovery for themselves that Roma wines have long been America's largest selling wine. But these millions discovered something more. In Roma wines, they discovered an easy and expensive way to increase the delights of daily living. Yes, millions have discovered that Roma wines. As a beverage on the table, and when used in entertaining, add a charm of a special and wholesome kind. I told you Roma wines cost little. That's because here in America you pay no high import duty, no expensive shipping charges. Two, Roma wines come from Roma's own wineries in the heart of choice California vineyard districts. So cost to you is only pennies a glass for Roma Wine, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. And now, with part two of Donovan's Brain, and with the performance of Orson Welles as Dr. Patrick Corey, we again hope to keep you in suspense. As I sit now outside my laboratory door writing under the heading Experiment 87, this final entry in my case book, I know that these are the last words I shall ever write upon this earth. For those who seek some explanation, I refer them simply to this casebook. Let them read it carefully. Perhaps they may then, in some measure, understand, if not condone, the awful circumstances under which I have been driven to the most appalling crime against God and nature that it has ever been the fate of mortal man to perpetrate. August 24th. It's now six weeks, exactly 42 days. Since I began the experiment. For six weeks, by artificial means alone, I've kept alive a human brain. Completely detached from the body, floating in a bath of serum, nourished by a synthetic blood plasma fed through its arteries by an electric pump, it has remained alive. Not only alive, but I have succeeded in communicating with it. For I've even induced new growth of brain cells and so tremendously increased its mental faculties that by sheer brain power alone, it has actually been able to communicate its thoughts to me. Each day, my communion with that living, pulsing mass of gray matter that was the brain of William Donovan becomes stronger and stronger. Even now, I sense it striving to reveal some plan to me, something so truly world shaking in its implications that only such an organism, developed to a point thousands of years ahead of its time, could ever have conceived it. So far, I sense this only, but soon I shall know. Indeed, I shall be partner in its execution. What a fool I was ever to have considered for a moment my wife's demand that I end the. It's because I refused, of course, that Janice left me a week ago without so much as a word of explanation or farewell. Even my son David and my assistant Schrott are privy to this conspiracy to thwart me, for when I ask about Janice, they pretend to know nothing of it. They seek to avoid my questions. But the brain will live. Yes, I can hear it now. It's delta waves, quite audible over the amplifying system I've arranged for it. Almost as though it were calling to me, trying to speak to me. The brain will live. Donovan? What is it? What are you trying to tell me? Go on, Donovan. I'm listening. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on. Go Dad. Who is it? It must be Patrick and David. Well, but. What do you want? You want to talk to your dad? I have no time to talk. I'm busy. I'm sorry. Go away. I tell you, I'm busy. Please, Dad. Can't you two leave me alone? All right, all right. What is it? What is it? Patrick, won't you come into the study with us for a few minutes? What have you got to say and stay right here? You know I can't leave the laboratory. Dad, it's only that. Well, we wanted to talk to you in private. Well, don't tell me that you're afraid of this poor mass of brain cells. It's not that, Dad. But we never mind, David. At least turn that thing off then, will you, Patrick? What difference would it make? It could still hear, couldn't it? Well, what is it then? Well, it's about mother. So, she put you up to this, did she? I thought the truth would come out sometime. Dad, listen. She's tried to stop this experiment from the beginning. She thought she could blackmail me into quitting by leaving me, and she still does. Now, she's using you as a go between. I'll drink it. Listen a minute, won't you? We haven't heard a word from Janice. We don't even know where she is. That's what we've come to talk to you about. Oh, have you? Well, how could I know where she is? Well, because you were the last person seen with her, Dad. I was. Don't you remember, Patrick, you took her into town with you? You wouldn't tell any of us why. Yes, of course. I've forgotten. But what of it? Well, don't you remember what happened then? Of course I remember. She left me, that's all. Where is that? Where did she leave me? What were you doing? I don't know. We were in some big public building, city hall, courthouse, taxis, and something. Next thing I knew, she'd simply disappeared. Is that all? Didn't she say anything? Didn't she at least tell you why she was going? I remember what she said. It's been a week or more. I've hardly slept. You know, I've been working night and day. Yes, that's just it. Well, you can do that. Patrick, you say this. The brain communicates with you, tells you things about its past life, suggests thoughts. Yes, yes. Well, if the brain can make you think of things, mightn't it also be able to make you forget things? You're out of your mind. Dad, are you sure? Are you sure you don't know what's happened to Mother? No, I tell you, no, I don't know. Patrick, don't you see what you might have done? For heaven's name, stop now while there's still time. Get out of here. While there's still time to help Janice, if there is. While there's still time to help yourself. Shut off the current. Let the brain die. Kill it, Patrick. Kill it. Get out, both of you. Get out. Get out. August 26th. The brain continues to communicate thought fragments more and more easily, but nothing further on what I've come to think of as the plan. I'm now sleeping a great deal, but my dreams are becoming increasingly troublesome, although I'm at a loss to analyze them. Most frequent is a sort of vast cosmic valley presided over by the colossal figure of a young man whom I seem to recognize, yet I never see his face. It's as though the entire population of the earth were moving past him in review at his command. You're sure now. Oh, what? What? What? What? What? What? What happened here? Anyway, I came and found your lapel, your hands around your own throat. It had been for me. Why is your luggage all packed? I was. Going to leave. Leave? In the middle of the night? Why? Because the pipe. News, Monster, it's been opened. It was you, Shot. You were going to shut off the currents. You were going to kill the brain. Patrick, you tried to strangle me. What? That's true, Dad. That's why I had to slap you. But that's a third. I came in here and found Shot with his hands around his own throat. He was strangling himself. Dad, please think a minute. Nobody can strangle himself. Look at these marks on my throat. Do you think I could have done that? It's not possible, Inyette. It's true, Patrick. That I tried to shut off the current. I was afraid for you. But as I opened the fuse box, I heard the delta waves in the laboratory suddenly become stronger and louder than they'd ever been before. And then. Then. Then I. Yes. Then the brain knew. You even spoke in Donovan's voice. Oh, that voice, his. That recurring phrase of his. Sure, sure, sure. In his very tones, his very accents. Sure. You've created a monster, Patrick. It has the power to make me commit murder. Murder? The brain. The brain must die. Pull the switch in the fuse box, Patrick. It will only be a matter of seconds. Sands and then. Yes, I. I. But I. But I. You've got to, Patrick. Shrat, David. Help me. I can't move. Come here, then. Pull the switch, honey. Shrat, David. Go on. You. You, too. It's paralyzed, dispatched. The brain won't let itself be killed. Then it has the power to live on. And on. To command us as long as we live. To make us do anything it wants. To kill. To murder. Dad, what are we going to do? Listen. It's brain. It's... It's laughing. Laughing. September 7th, Schrott has left. He had to, of course, for his own protection, if nothing else. Before he left, he swore to eternal secrecy and was going to try to find Janice. The very thought that any harm might come to her through me is enough to drive me almost mad. As for David, although he's strong enough to prevent any untoward accidents, I don't know. He's volunteered to stay with me. He'll sleep at night behind locked doors. We must devote every faculty we possess together and independently to finding a way of destroying the brain. Perhaps while it sleeps, although it seems to have developed tremendous powers of the subconscious which operate even in sleep. The recurring dream, the now oppressive sense of some. Further task to be performed continues. If Janice were only here, even her presence, I know, would help immeasurably to combat this fearful thing. Terrible thought crosses my mind. Could Chot have left if the brain had not, for some reasons of its own, actually wanted him to leave? September 10th. My thoughts are less and less my own. The dream of the young giant bestriding the earth, the figure without a face, pursues me now, even in my waking hours. Increasingly, I seem to live in a world of evil fantasy, peopled and controlled by the mind of William Donovan. Sure, sure. Sure, sure, sure. Not much time. But time enough. Time enough. Sure, sure, sure. Time enough. Sure, sure. Hello? Who is it? Patrick? Janice. Janice. My darling. Janice. Hello. Patrick. Sweetheart. Darling. How are you, Brooklyn? Oh, well enough. I'm well enough. But, Janice, where have you been? Where have I been? Janice, you had no idea. I've been half crazy worrying about you. Did Shot finally find you? Yes. Yes. Shot fondly. Janice, why did you leave me that day? Why didn't you at least tell me? Where did you go down here? I was with friends. Did Shot tell you anything? No. Nothing special. Janice, I know I haven't been a very good husband these last months. I haven't been very kind or very considerate or even. I'm civilized. I haven't been myself, Janice. I know, Patrick. My poor darling. If you only know how I missed you after you left, how I needed you. I need your help, Janice. I know, Patrick. Terribly. I came back to help you. But. But what? Where is David? He's asleep in the next room. That is, lately he's tried to make it a point to sleep only when I didn't. Tried to keep an eye on things. Patrick. I'm going to help you. All I can. Any way I can. But first, I want to take David away. David, why? Because I don't think it's good for him to be here. No? I don't think that you. Patrick, I don't want to torment you. It's only that perhaps we can find a way. If we know all the facts. What, Jim, is that? Don't you know? Really? Where I was? No, how could I? Don't you remember where you took me? Where I took you? You took me to a psychiatric clinic. Psychiatric clinic? You had me committed to a madhouse. Now it's Janice. No, not you. Donovan. Donovan? It was because I tried to make you stop the experiment. Yes. Kill the brain. And you left me there. You even spoke in Donovan's voice. Sure, sure, sure, you said. Sure, sure. I thought they were the last words I would ever hear you speak. Oh, Janice, forgive me. Forgive me, Bill. I couldn't persuade anyone. I was sane. Oh, sweet. After what you told him, everything I said only made him think I was bad. I'm not mad. Am I, Patrick? I'm not mad, am I? Janice will be gone for some three hours. I've sent her into town for Dr. Zanger, the psychiatrist. Maybe he can help, but now suddenly I'm. I'm overcome. Come with the thought of the humiliation I shall have to suffer when other medical men become aware of the position I'm in. It'll be the end of my career and my reputation, all my hopes. It's folly to think that Zanger'd keep it to himself. Indeed, he'd have no right to. I can bet it if I must, but another way, a possibility, occurs to me, and I've been thinking it over. There's no harm in trying it in any event. I must try. I have three hours. David! David! Yes, sir? David, what's your blood type? Do you know your blood type? As a matter of fact, I don't think I do. What? No matter. We can easily find out. David, I think at last I know a way to kill the brain? It's simple. It's perfectly natural. Yet, nine chances out of ten is something Donovan would never have known about. I'll do it myself. Unfortunately, my blood type and his are the same. Francis? Of course. I have to replenish the blood substance periodically. Anyway, It's about time to do it again. I've always used my own because it was the same type as his, but yours is a different type, the right type, David. The wrong type? Yes, you've given the wrong type. The brain will die given the wrong type. Yeah. It's possible. I'm sure of that. I know it. But suppose the brain knows other things. I've thought of that. It's a chance we'll have to take if you're willing, David, my boy. Of course, I am. Then we'll take the blood sample now. Come into the laboratory. I only have the right blood type. Sure. Whether the wrong type If you haven't, we'll find someone who has maybe shot. Now, lie down there on the table, David. We want a tourniquet on your arm here. That's small. Sirens will do it. Go ahead. I'm ready. David, don't watch me. It'll be easier if you don't. For me. That's a funny one. Coming from you. Well, doctors are never quite as steady with members of their own family, you know. Ready? Sure. Ready? There we are. You all right? Yeah, yeah. You'll be through in just a second. You getting it all right? Yes, sure, sure. Just a second now. Dad, I'm sleepy. You'll be over it in a minute. But what's the matter? Why am I so sleepy? You'll be all right. Sleepy. So sleepy. Sure, sure, sure. Sure, sure, sure. That's what an anesthetic is for. Make you sleep. I was somewhat surprised to find the instrument sterilized already laid out, but I worked more rapidly and skillfully than ever before in my life, I think. I made an incision just below the hairline, laying back the scalp. As far as the base of the skull, I trepanned the cranium at two centimeter intervals, working back and downwards to the upper edge of the occipital bone. With the Geely saw, I cut through the connecting bone structure and removed the entire top of the cranium, placing it in saline solution to preserve it. I made a semi circular incision in the dura mater, laying it to one side, exposing the brain. As I dissected out the facial, auditory, and pneumogastric nerves to free the medulla umbrella, I became conscious of an insistent clamoring, something like a mounting hysteria in the distant reaches of my mind. Almost as strong as the irresistible compulsion that drove me on. But my hand did not falter. With a sure stroke, I severed the spinal cord just below the first cervical nerve. As I make this last entry with that awful guilt upon my soul, even now I cannot fully comprehend how it has been possible for any man, by mortal or immortal means, to be driven to such a crime. Even the divinity himself did not demand of Abraham that final sacrifice of expiation when he, with his only begotten son, ascended the Mount of Olives. Perhaps Schrott is right. Perhaps there is indeed in man some spark of the divine that will elude our test tubes and our laboratories until the end of time. Perhaps that is the one thing that even Donovan did not foresee. I only know that at the instant my son died under my own hand, I was set free. At that instant, I saw and understood for the first time that monstrous plan born in the brain of William Donovan, of which I was to be the instrument. It was the plan I had glimpsed but never grasped in the recurring dream. Donovan did aspire to the domination of the world. And with those tremendous mental faculties that I myself had given him, it was literally within his power. To become the absolute ruler of all mankind. Only one thing was lacking a body, a body, a young, strong body into which those ever growing brain cells could graft and affix themselves to live on and on, perhaps for centuries. He chose the body of my son, and now, my son, at last too late. I am free to destroy this foul thing of my creation. I know it as surely as I know that my own life must be forfeit. And the brain also knows. I can hear the disturbed, erratic oscillations of the delta waves coming through the laboratory door. There's no room left in me now for fear. I shall take the six steps from the desk where I'm writing this across to the laboratory door. How often I've taken them in happier times. I shall open the door, close it behind me for the last time, and write Finis. To the mortal life of Patrick Arthur Corey and the brain of William Horace Dunlavin. Many others learn from the record I leave here the lessons I have learned so bitterly and profit by them. And for the things that I have done, may God have mercy on my soul. Phoenix, Arizona, September the 15th. The bodies of Dr. Patrick Arthur Corey and his son David were found in Dr. Corey's own laboratory early today. Young Corey had apparently died on the operating table as a result of a delicate brain operation performed by his father. In the case of Dr. Corey, medical authorities gave as their opinion that he might have died of shock as a result of the unsuccessful operation on his son. A curious feature of the case was the fact that numerous pieces of tissue identified as being from a human brain were found scattered about the laboratory floor, while a larger section of brain was found in the midst of an elaborate apparatus evidently part of a scientific experiment. Medical authorities stated, however, that they were unable to explain the nature of the apparatus and that the brain itself was in such a state of decomposition as to indicate that it had been dead and slowly decaying for at least three months. Dr. Corey is survived by his wife, Janice. She was committed to the County Asylum for the Insane late this afternoon. Burial of Dr. Corey will be at the Mount of Olives Cemetery. And so closes Donovan's Brain, Part Two, the completion of two half hour presentations. Of Kutsjodmak's story, presenting Orson Welles, a star of Suspense. Suspense is produced and directed by William Spear. Did you know that these Roma wine suspense dramas are setting a record for the millions of delighted listeners they are attracting? We want you to feel that by tuning in the suspense program every week, you can count on real radio enjoyment. Well, an even more dramatic style, the popularity of Roma wines is also record breaking, because Roma wines are by far America's largest selling wines. Millions make sure of great wine enjoyment simply by asking for Roma wines. Here's something else these millions have discovered. You don't need fancy glassware or a special occasion to enjoy these zestful, taste-delighting Roma California wines. Roma wines possess lip-smacking flavor and zest because they come from Roma Wines' own wineries right in the heart of the magnificent California wine grape district. And you can enjoy them as a daily delight because the cost is only pennies a glass. Ask for ROMA, Roma Wine, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is Orson Welles. Next week, Mr. William Spear tells me, and he'd like me to pass the information on to you, that Suspense will bring two exceptionally fine artists, Miss Ida Lupino and Mr. Vincent Price, in a play by one of radio's outstanding authors, Lucille Fletcher. I want to hear that, and I know you will too. Money invested in war bonds now helps ensure a healthy, prosperous post war America. The kind of America we will want for our children as well as ourselves. Don't forget then, next Thursday you will hear Ida Lupino and Vincent Price in. Aspen! Presented by Roma Wines, R O M A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Thank you.