The Seed of Evil

Nevertheless he got to work on the alien, who was strapped upside down like a huge overturned beetle. Some of his manipulations were torture, pure and simple, but some of them were a survey of Neverdie’s anatomical and nervous systems. Neverdie gave vent to recurrent strangled shrieks and squirmed a good deal as far as his bonds would allow; but that was all. Julian remained aware of the need not to kill his subject and proceeded with care, but he did not feel over-anxious on that score. An immortal being must be physically capable of surviving quite drastic bodily disorder, he reasoned. After a while he absentmindedly left off torture for its own sake and gave himself up to the enjoyment of study.

Nestling just below the brain was a spherical object, like a pearl two inches in diameter.

A massive nerve ganglion surrounded the shining ball, but no nerves, either axons or dendrites, appeared to be actually attached to it. The arrangement was like a nest containing a beautiful, perfect egg. To Julian’s mind the sphere was an artificial object, not native to Neverdie’s body, and he spent some time examining it.

“What will happen if I remove that pearly sphere just below your brain?” he asked, making sure that the alien was conscious.

There was no answer, so Julian, slowly and cautiously, did as he had threatened. He held the pearl up to the light in a pair of calipers and stared at it in fascination. He felt entranced, attracted, drawn on. The sphere seemed to radiate something into his mind, like a candle in otherwise absolute darkness.

A shuddering sigh whispered from Neverdie’s voice diaphragm. “It’s done, then,” he said slowly, as though through a mist of pain.

“Is this what I was seeking?” murmured Julian.

“The Seed. … The Seed of Evil.”

Julian placed the pearl on the palm of his hand. It felt smooth and cool.

“You have nothing to defend any longer,” he said. “Why not explain it all? I would appreciate it.”

With great effort Neverdie replied. “It was not myself I sought to protect, but you. Let me make one last effort to dissuade you. The Seed you hold in your hand is the means to immortality, as you call it. Properly speaking it is biological permanence. All that is necessary is for the Seed to enter your body. To swallow it will be enough, for it will migrate to the most appropriate place, whereupon it will undertake to readjust all the body’s functions with such perfection that it achieves … biological perpetual motion. All the processes which normally cause decay are rendered null and void. The Seed’s properties are even more remarkable than that. It will repair the most appalling injuries to its host; even if the body is completely destroyed it will lie quiescent until coming in contact with biological material, even if only humus, when it will endeavour to reconstruct that body, and usually it will succeed. Thus it is almost impossible to die, impossible even to commit suicide. The only way the arrangement can end is for the Seed to be taken away and given to someone else, whereupon it will forsake the old body and serve the new, for it is able to adapt itself to any conceivable living form in the universe.”

“So far you are making a poor job of dissuasion,” Julian commented.

“What would make such a life unbearable?”

Julian thought for a moment. “Fear of losing it?”

“No. Guilt. The guilt of having stolen it.”

Julian laughed humourlessly. “Do I look like a person who feels guilt?”

“No, but you will change. All change who receive the Seed. Everything looks different after a few million years—even after a few thousand. Yes, perhaps even after a few hundred years you will be tortured by the guilt which you must endure forever—or until——”

Neverdie’s speech was interrupted by hoarse sounds of agony.

“It would be interesting to know how this remarkable device was manufactured,” Julian mused, unmoved by Neverdie’s pain.

The alien seemed to recover enough to resume his explanations. “I will tell you what I know. The origin of the Seed is lost in history, but the legend is plausible. It was created by a race of beings whose name I do not even know, and its purpose was the punishment of a criminal.”

Julian’s attention was diverted by a sound of scratching on the wall of the vault. He hurried to the breach that Neverdie had made, put his ear to it and heard scufflings. Wolves? Or just an animal?

Picking up the death-beamer, he returned to Neverdie. His last remark had puzzled him. “Continue!” he said sharply.