The Return of Vaman - A Scientific Novel Read Online Free Page A

call from him. He was hysterical—he felt weak, could not read, found letters inside out … He wanted to know if he had eaten something at my place last night that caused this trouble. He was scared to call the doctor lest he was declared unfit for the match.
    “I rushed to his room to reassure him. His right hand had gone weak and he could not bowl. What about his left hand? Surprisingly it was in good condition and I suggested he bowled with it. He found the idea ludicrous—but the more he swung his hand the more reasonable it appeared to him. He suggested that he should have net practice. As his team-mates were still in their beds, I offered to take him to the practice enclosure. This turned out much better since his new-found prowess could be kept secret from everybody until the crucial moment. You know the rest,” Ajit concluded.
    “Was it you who spirited him away after the match?” I asked.
    “Yes. And it was I who telephoned to give the message to the newspaper. I had kept him in my flat for a couple of days. When he recovered sufficiently I transformed him back to normal and delivered him at Bow Street. Of course he had totally forgotten all his traumatic experiences. “I felt it unwise to tell him the truth.”
    As a good scientific theory can explain many phenomena so were all my mysteries resolved by this remarkable discovery of Ajit. I could also see why he did not want to eat with knife and fork. Ann and I would have detected his awkwardness. As it was, we did comment on his difficulty in eating with fingers but he had a reasonable explanation for it. What really caught him by surprise was Ken’s request for an autograph. Even signing one’s name can be very difficult if your brain insists on projecting all letters the wrong way round!
    “Ajit, you must publish all your findings at once. You are sure to get the Nobel Prize.” This was my advice as a layman.
    “No, not yet, John,” Ajit replied. “You know I am a perfectionist and I find the loss of memory a grave defect in my work. Until I remove this defect I am not prepared to announce my discovery to the world.”
    “But Ajit, let me offer you some practical advice. You are playing with unknown laws of nature. That you have achieved success so far does not guarantee that you will succeed again. Wouldn’t it be wise to keep a clear record of all you have done in a safe place?”
    “Of course, I have done that. After reading my account any scientifically competent group can repeat my experiment. As regards your statement about future success, I do not deny it. But I am in the process of modifying my experiment which I feel will soon remove the final blemish. Indeed I would not have revealed to you my progress so far, but for my impish desire to surprise the only real friend I have.”
    I tried to argue with him; but as I had feared, once Ajit’s mind was made up it was impossible to change it.
    A few months later I received a phone call from Ajit’s lab. I was hurriedly summoned to see the Director.
    With ill forebodings, I knocked on the door. In his office were sitting the Director, a doctor in a white coat, a non-descript man and Ajit. I breathed a sigh of relief—I had feared to see him dead.
    But my relief was only short-lived. Ajit did not recognize me. Indeed, as the doctor explained, Ajit was suffering from a totally irreversible amnesia. It was only because they had found my name and telephone number in his office that his lab could contact me.
    “Has he left any written records of what he was doing?” I asked cautiously. I remembered with chagrin that I had forgotten to ask Ajit in what ‘safe place’ he had kept his records.
    “If he did, we have unfortunately no means of knowing,” sighed the Director. “You see, whatever experiment he was doing blew up and shattered everything in his room.”
    “He is lucky to be alive,” commented the doctor. What an ironical choice of words! For a genius like Ajit this loss of memory