The Last Adventure of Dr. Yngve Hogalum

Chapter 12 ~ Magnetron Stays the Course

"Before I could clarify, Dr. Hogalum exploded in a spectacular display of bombast and spittle, lambasting my scientific methodology as well as my lineage."

Constable Hawkshaw was a clever fellow, but rather more susceptible than most to the effects of the Hypno-Chronometer.  Indeed, I did not even invite him into the parlor before placing him into a slack-jawed stupor.  I instructed him to return to his police duties with a story of my airtight alibi for the evening in question, and to relate his unshakeable certainty of my complete innocence and benevolence to his superiors, and to his colleagues in Virginia.  He nodded and apologized for distracting me from my work, mounted his horse and rode off at a leisurely trot.

As I left the anteroom, my gaze met that of Mrs. Mackenzie, who scrutinized me with profound concern.  I averted my gaze, turning abruptly and making my way back to my laboratory.  I could think of nothing to say which might allay her anxieties.

Dr. Hogalum was unconcerned by the incident and most impatient to return to work.  We had suffered a series of setbacks and failed experiments, and I was becoming weary and discouraged.  By contrast, the doctor was brimming with enthusiasm and seemed immune to hunger and fatigue.  He began to order me about the Masterstroke Mill in the manner of a tyrannical taskmaster directing a disobedient drudge.  "I am the doctor here, Magnetron," he said repeatedly.  "It would be wise to yield to me on matters of the brain."

Mrs. Mackenzie rapped tentatively at the door on numerous occasions, entreating me to sleep and take meals, but I declined in deference to the work before us.  "Your little hypno-watch trick won't last for long," reminded the doctor.  He was correct, of course. The after-effects of the Hypno-chronometer dissipated eventually, the subject gradually gaining the awareness that what once had made perfect sense was in fact nonsensical rubbish.  The constable would return eventually, and in a disagreeable temper, I suspected.

The Cerebral Harness experiments were proceeding unsatisfactorily.  I began to despair of ever launching the Caelestis, as it would drift uselessly were Dr. Hogalum incapable of piloting it.  The doctor was indefatigable, though, so we continued work unremittingly; he, bellowing out commands from within the complexity of electrodes which now blossomed from the base of his skull, and I, growing ever more haggard as our labors produced failure after disheartening failure.  I was on the verge of confessing my doubts when the doctor voiced his own apprehension.

"Magnetron," he began with a peevish tone, "have you tested this craft for seaworthiness?  It does not appear seaworthy to my eye."

"No," I responded, realizing at that point that I had been misunderstood.  Before I could clarify, Dr. Hogalum exploded in a spectacular display of bombast and spittle, lambasting my scientific methodology as well as my lineage.  I permitted him to rage uninterrupted until I became aware that he was leering biliously and attempting to elicit a response from me with a caustic "Hmmm?"

"Dr. Hogalum, I have not tested this craft for seaworthiness because it is not a seagoing vessel," I said tersely. "It is, to the best of my knowledge, airworthy, however."

"Airworthy? What in oblate spheroids are you prattling about, Magnetron?"

"The Caelestis is a space going vessel, doctor, hence the name.  It is my intention to launch it—and you—into space where you may explore the heavens for all eternity."