If the devil had been searching for a playmate,
this thing Craig had created would have been the
PERFECT COMPANION
By John McGreevey
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
June 1951
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The thing was not large. About the size of a large dog. It lay on itsmetallic side on the operating table, and it was alive. In its own way,it lived ... because Craig Stevens had given it life.
Now, Craig stroked that metallic surface and smiled. "Very well,Sheila," he said pleasantly. "Get out. Get out and never come back. I'mnot keeping you."
The woman who stood across the table from him uttered a choked,strangled noise that could have been anger or sorrow. "I hate you. Inever thought that I could hate anyone, but you've taught me in theselast three years, Craig. You've taught me."
The other nodded and picked up a small battery from the table. "I'mglad that our three years together haven't been a total loss, my dear."
Sheila dabbed at her eyes. "You don't even give me the satisfactionof seeing you lose your temper. I wanted you to be uncomfortable andembarrassed. I wanted to see you suffer as you've made me suffer."
"And so you tell me you're leaving me. Hardly the proper stimulus tocause me to suffer, Sheila. A celebration would be more in order." Hisgrey eyes regarded her with the cold objectivity of a lab technicianobserving the death agonies of a new species of insect.
Impulsively, she moved around the table to him. "Craig," she began, andthere was a note of entreaty in her voice, "what's happened to us?"
"Mental cruelty is the complaint you lodged, I believe." He didn'tlook at her now, but focused his attention instead upon the mechanismon the table. "Ridiculous phrase. The only real cruelty is mental ofcourse. Physical suffering soon passes, but suffering in the mind, thatendures."
She stared with loathing down at the thing on the table. "And nowthis ... this monster that you've made ... I suppose you mean for it toreplace me in your life?"
Craig Stevens chuckled, "Nothing could take your place, Sheila. I shallalways remember you as a most individual subject."
Suddenly, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself to him."Listen to me, Craig," she begged. "You've got to listen. I can't leaveyou like this. I need you. You need me. Let's try again. Maybe I waswrong. Maybe you haven't meant to hurt me."
Carefully, he disentangled himself and pushed her gently away. "Yourluggage is packed, Sheila. You've made up your mind, and this is onetime you're not going to be allowed to change it. I don't need you. Idon't need anyone."
Her body shook with sobbing. "You loved me once."
He laughed, and the sound echoed from the cold stone walls of thelaboratory. "Love!" The laughter mounted. "What a foolish notion,Sheila. You interested me once. You had spirit, and I was impelled todiscover how much it would take to break that spirit."
The sobs stopped. She paused, then looked up at him. He was smiling,his thin lips twisted, the grey eyes glistening. She stared at him fora long moment.
"You're wishing you could hurt me, aren't you, Sheila? You're wishingyou could strike out at me ... hear me cry in pain. That's why you boreme. You're so transparent. I can read your every thought ... anticipateyour every emotion and they're all dull." He touched the thing on thetable again. "That's why I've perfected Ohm here. He'll be the perfectcompanion."
Sheila looked at the contraption he touched, and a shudder ofrevuls