Daniel Keyes Fullscreen Flowers for Elgernon (1959)

Pause

"What did I know about the techniques that he had spent so many years developing?

Well, as I say, he appeared cordial, and willing to suspend judgment.

There isn't much else he can do now.

If I don't come up with an explanation for Alger­non's behavior, all of his work goes down the drain, but if I solve the problem I bring in the whole crew with me.

I went into the lab where Burt was watching Algernon in one of the multiple problem boxes.

He sighed and shook his head.

"He's forgotten a lot.

Most of his complex responses seem to have been wiped out. He's solving prob­lems on a much more primitive level than I would have expected."

"In what way?" I asked.

"Well, in the past he was able to figure out simple pat­terns—in that blind-door run, for example: every other door, every third door, red doors only, or the green doors only—but now he's been through that run three times and he's still using trial and error."

"Could it be because he was away from the lab for so long?"

"Could be. We'll let him get used to things again and see how he works out tomorrow."

I had been in the lab many times before this, but now I was here to learn everything it had to offer.

I had to ab­sorb procedures in a few days that the others had taken years to learn.

Burt and I spent four hours going through the lab section by section, as I tried to familiarize myself with the total picture.

When we were all through I noticed one door we had not looked into.

"What's in there?"

"The freeze and the incinerator."

He pushed open the heavy door and turned on the light.

"We freeze our speci­mens before we dispose of them in the incinerator.

It helps cut down the odors if we control decomposition."

He turned to leave, but I stood there for a moment.

"Not Algernon," I said.

"Look… if and… when… I mean I don't want him dumped in there. Give him to me. I'll take care of him myself."

He didn't laugh.

He just nod­ded.

Nemur had told him that from now on I could have anything I wanted.

Time was the barrier.

If I was going to find out the an­swers for myself I had to get to work immediately.

I got lists of books from Burt, and notes from Strauss and Nemur. Then, on the way out, I got a strange notion.

"Tell me," I asked Nemur,

"I just got a look at your incinerator for disposing of experimental animals.

What plans have been made for me?"

My question stunned him.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sure that from the beginning you planned for all exigencies.

So what happens to me?"

When he was silent I insisted:

"I have a right to know everything that pertains to the experiment, and that in­cludes my future."

"No reason why you shouldn't know."

He paused and lit an already lit cigarette.

"You understand, of course, that from the beginning we had the highest hopes of perma­nence, and we still do… we definitely do—"

"I'm sure of that," I said.

"Of course, taking you on in this experiment was a se­rious responsibility.

I don't know how much you remem­ber or how much you've pieced together about things in the beginning of the project, but we tried to make it clear to you that there was a strong chance it might be only temporary."

"I had that written down in my progress reports, at the time," I agreed, "though I didn't understand at the time what you meant by it. But that's beside the point be­cause I'm aware of it now."

"Well, we decided to risk it with you," he went on, "because we felt there was very little chance of doing you any serious harm, and we were sure there was a great chance of doing you some good."

"You don't have to justify that."

"But you realize we had to get permission from some­one in your immediate family.

You were incompetent to agree to this yourself."