"It should take effect shortly," the biologist said.
"Good," Carson said....
The cylinders of the electric clock said 4:35:00 A.M.
Macklin was playing with his hands and their shadows in front of his face.
"How long will this stage last, Dr. Mitchell?" Colonel Carson said in concern.
"Indefinitely. This is the last stage. The circulatory system of his brain has been relaxed to the point where he has about the I.Q. of a turnip."
Carson steeled himself. "So, doctor! You're nothing but a dirty Lux!"
"No, Colonel. I've never even seen Luxemburg. My reason for doing this to Dr. Macklin were entirely patriotic ... or, at least, sympathetic."
"Tell that to the hangman! I'll see you tried for treason."
"Look at him, Colonel. He is certainly no longer legally responsible. He has the strength of a grown man and the intellect of an amoeba. It would be impossible to keep him alive either under sedation or in a padded cell. Even if Mrs. Macklin still refuses her consent—and I don't think she will when she sees him in this bad a state—you can go over her head and get permission for Ferris and myself to administer our antitoxin to destroy the pituitrin-absorbing virus colony in his cerebrum."