Come Into My Brain

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Dane Harrell held the thought-helmet tightly between his hands, and, before putting it on, glanced over at the bound, writhing alien sitting opposite him. The alien snarled defiantly at him.

“You’re sure you want to go through with this?” asked Dr. Phelps.

Harrell nodded. “I volunteered, didn’t I? I said I’d take a look inside this buzzard’s brain, and I’m going to do it. If I don’t come up in half an hour, come get me.”

“Right.”

Harrell slipped the cool bulk of the thought-helmet over his head and signalled to the scientist, who pulled the actuator switch. Harrell shuddered as psionic current surged through him; he stiffened, wriggled, and felt himself glide out of his body, hover incorporeally in the air between his now soulless shell and the alien bound opposite.

Remember, you volunteered, he told himself.

He hung for a moment outside the alien’s skull; then he drifted downward and in. He had entered the alien’s mind. Whether he would emerge alive, and with the troop-deployment data—well, that was another matter entirely.

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