"You practically answered that yourself" Gerhardt Kroeger laughed, his eyes bright.
"Take the 'trans' out of 'transplant' and insert the letters i and m."
"Implant?"
"You implant steel plates, don't you?"
"Of course. For protection."
"So have I.. .. You've performed lobotomies, not so?"
"Naturally. To relieve electrical pressures."
"You've just said another magic word, Hans.
"Electrical," as in electrical impulses, the brain's electrical impulses. I simply micro calibrate and tap into them with an object so infinitesimal compared to a plate that it would be a mere shadow on an X ray."
"What in hell would that be?"
"A computer chip entirely compatible with an individual brain's electrical impulses."
"A what .. . ?"
"Within years, psychological indoctrination will be a thing of the past. Brainwashing'will be history!"
"Come again?"
"Over the past twenty-nine months I've experimented with operated upon-thirty-two patients, often with five or more in varying stages of development-"
"So I've been given to understand," interrupted Traupinan.
"Patients provided by suppliers, from prisons and elsewhere."
"Scrutinized, Hans, all male and all with above-average intelligence and education. Those from the prisons were sentenced for such offenses as embezzlement, or selling inside corporate information, or falsifying official government reports for personal gain. Crimes of subterfuge requiring some degree of expertise and sophistication, not violence. The violent mind as well as the less intelligent can too easily be programmed. I had to prove that my procedure could succeed above those levels."
"Did you prove it?"
"Sufficient unto the day," as the Bible ays."
"Why do I hear a negative, Gerhardt?"
"Because there is one. To date, the implant functions for not less than nine days or more than twelve."
"What happens then?"
"The brain rejects it. The patient rapidly develops a cranial hemorrhage and dies."
"You , re saying the brain explodes."
"Yes. Twenty-six of my patients so expired; however, the last seven lasted progressively from nine to twelve days. I'm convinced that with further microsurgical techniques I can eventually overcome the time factor. Ultimately, and it may take years, it will function permanently. Politicians, generals, and statesmen everywhere can disappear for a few days, and thereafter become our disciples."
"But for the present circumstances, with this American agent Latham, you believe he's ready to be sent out, am I correct?"
"Without question. You'll see for yourself. He's in his fourth day, leaving a minimum of five left and a maximum of eight. As our personnel in Paris, London, and Washington inform us that he is needed for no more than forty to seventy-two hours, the risk is minimal. By then we'll know everything our enemies know about the Brotherhood with the much more important benefit of Latham sending them all off in wrong directions."
"Let's go back, if you please," said'Traupman, shifting his legs in the white plastic chair.
"Before we get to the procedure itself, what exactly does this implant of yours do?"
"Are you familiar with computer chips, Hans?"
"As little as possible. I leave that to my technicians, as I do the application of anesthesia. I have enough to be concerned about.
But I'm sure you'll tell me what I don't know."
"The newest microchips are barely three centimeters in length and less than ten millimeters wide, and they can hold the equivalent of six megabytes of software. That's sufficient to contain all the works of Goethe, Kant, and Schopenhauer. By using an E-PROM Burner to insert the information into the chip, we then activate the ROM Read-Only Memory-and it reacts to the sonic instructions delivered to it in the same way a computer search reacts to the codes a programmer enters into a processor. Granted, there is a slight delay as the brain, the thought process, adjusts to the interception, the alternate wavelength, but that in itself can only persuade the interrogator into believing the subject is truly thinking, preparing a truthful response."
"You can prove this?"
"Come, I'll show you." The two men got up and Kroeger pressed a red button to the right of the heavy steel door. Within seconds a uniformed nurse appeared, a surgical mask in her hand.
"Greta, this is the famed Dr. Hans Traupman."
"Yes, I know," said the nurse.
"A privilege to see you again, Doctor. Please, your mask."
"Yes, of course I know youl" exclaimed Traupman warmly.
"Greta Frisch, one of the finest surgical nurses ever in my operating room. My dear girl, they said you had retired, and for one so young it seemed not only regrettable, but quite unbelievable."
"I retired into marriage, Herr Doktor. With this one." Greta nodded at Kroeger, who was grinning.
"I wasn't sure you'd remember her, Hans."
"Remember? One doesn't forget a Nurse Frisch, who anticipates your every