The Lie Destroyer

by John Russell Fearn, Vargo Statten

Genres: Science Fiction; Sci-fi Action & Adventure; Space Opera

Synopsis

Did it ever occur to you what might happen if you found yourself compelled to tell the truth for the rest of your life, because all power of telling a lie was gone? It would seem that since a great bulk of our society is built upon sham and pretense, things would come to a pretty pass if the power of untruths were destroyed.

Release date: September 30, 2015

Publisher: Gateway

Print pages: 240

Sample

The one thing that mainly troubled Dr. Mark Carson, the celebrated scientist, was that his son was a most unconscionable liar. Bobby Carson, aged eighteen, was in most respects a normal youth. He behaved as most youths do, and in many ways as most youths should not. The trouble was his persistent penchant for lying. He even seemed to glory in it. It had been evident since the earliest days of his childhood, right from the day that he had been able to speak, he had always seemed to choose a lie in favour of the truth. So far this had not got him into any serious trouble, but there was no telling when it would, and all the psychiatrists and so-called mental experts who had examined him could find no particular brain reason why he should behave like this—and yet he did. There could be only one explanation: he just loved lying.

It was because Dr. Mark Carson was a scientist that he decided something ought to be done about it. He had got to cure his son of this weakness, nay, this evil. So it was that Mark Carson went to work with charts and plans. He consulted other experts in the field of science, notably those versed in brainology; he also had many consultations with brain surgeons, the sum total of which proved to Carson that the flaw in his son’s make-up lay in one particular portion of his brain. It was not that Bobby was unique in any way. There was nothing unusual about his brain. His father discovered that every human being has this particular formation in the brain, which in some cases is extremely over-developed—or hypertrophied to use the scientific expression. And in other cases so unusually mature that the pure criminal results.

However, Dr. Carson’s main idea after consulting these various experts and studying his own diagrams was to find a way to deal with this particular portion of the brain. If various vibrations could be used in therapeutics to reduce this or that disorder, this or that muscular reaction—then why not a vibration which could be used upon the brain? So to this end Dr. Carson devoted his energies. He drew numerous plans and designs, calling upon his considerable scientific knowledge to develop them to the full. He was, in actual profession, a scientist in the employ of the Government. His work was chiefly research into rare metals, but from a beneficent government he did not draw enough money to own the tremendous home in which he lived together with its annexed laboratories. No, this was the outcome of various inventions which he had created on the side. He had indeed produced many marvellous devices chiefly for the benefit of the housewife. Indeed one wife had harked back to the old days of radio and called him “Housewives’ Choice”. Here, though, was serious business. A method of vibration which would control the brain. It was no easy task and he spent every spare moment at it, during which time somebody cheerfully went on his way as the exact opposite of George Washington.

There came a day, however, when at last Dr. Carson had the main basic outlines of his invention and felt confident enough of it to explain the details to his wife.

His wife, Ethel, was anything but a scientist. She was a quiet, good-natured, serious woman, intellectual to a degree, some fifteen years younger than Carson and therefore not so much given to long moods in introspective silence as he was. She tried to understand his scientific inclinations, which was no easy task, and where she failed Carson made no attempt to reprove her. He knew that he lived in a world of his own, but he also knew—though he doubted if Ethel did—that he could not continue to live in this world without her at his side. She meant everything to him, and was the king-pin about which his life revolved.

“You see, Ethel,” he explained one evening when they were seated in the lounge together after dinner. “I have been thinking for a long time about Bobby’s tendency to lie. It is not a nice thing. In fact it is an immensely evil thing. Here and there a little fib doesn’t mean anything, particularly if it gets you out of a difficulty. The limit comes when one lies consistently just for the sake of it, which unhappily is just what Bobby does.”

Ethel did not say anything; indeed she could not. She knew Bobby’s tendency and though she always sought to protect him in everything, she could not do so in this instance. She sat looking at her husband—he was a short, bald-headed, earnest little man with keen eyes overshadowed by bushy brows. He was looking at her in that intent solemn way he had when he poised so to speak over the edge of a great revelation.

“Yes,” Ethel agreed after a long pause. “I know Bobby is not exemplary in the matter of truthfulness, but there is nothing we can do about it. After all, Mark, we have tried everything. Psychiatrists, doctors, his school teachers, even we ourselves have done what we can to make him behave normally. He just doesn’t and I can’t understand where he gets it from. I’m sure I’m no greater liar than anybody else. I admit I have told a fib maybe here and there, even a white lie, but I’ve never indulged in a torrent of black ones.”

Carson cleared his throat a little.

“It is not so much a case of where Bobby gets it from, my dear, as a case of how we are going to stop it. And I believe I can stop it, scientifically!”

Ethel looked unconvinced.

“Just what do you mean by that?” Immediately her mother instincts were on the defensive. “How can you possibly scientifically stop a person from lying? I mean, lying is an untouchable sort of thing, like thought. You can’t do anything to a thought except perhaps by a lot of useless talking and so-called education.”

“I’m not dealing in anything so complicated as thought and mental psychology,” Carson replied. “When I say deal with it scientifically, I mean I have devised an instrument, which by vibration, can so control the brain that it will destroy the area responsible for lying.”

Ethel visibly started.

“Destroy!” she echoed. “What in the world do you mean by that? You’re not going to do anything to Bobby which may destroy part of his brain! Just what are you thinking of?”

“I’m thinking of the future.” Carson gave a moody glance. “One day Bobby will sure enough get himself into a fearful jam with this lying of his. For his own sake it’s got to be stopped and I’m going to do it. Don’t be alarmed my dear, there’s nothing dangerous about it. Either the experiment succeeds, or else it fails and nobody will be any the wiser, least of all Bobby. It simply consists of releasing a vibration which will affect the particular area of the brain responsible for lying. I do not expect you to understand the formation of a brain. In fact only an expert could do so. But I know enough about it to know that it is built up in layers, that it is a mass of cells, neurons, ganglia and similar scientific terms, but certain areas are responsible for truthfulness or otherwise. It lies just behind the subconscious region. This vibration that I’m speaking of can penetrate the skull bone and actually affect the brain itself. What it does is to neutralise the nervous stimulation of the cells directly responsible for one’s conduct, which includes lying, of course.”

“To me,” Ethel said seriously, “it all sounds diabolical, and I’d much rather you didn’t do anything at all about it. Anyway you’re not a brain surgeon. Why don’t you stay, so to speak, in your own back yard?”

“Because, Ethel, Bobby is in my back yard and yours. I repeat, there is nothing to fear. Under the influence of the vibration he will feel nothing more than if he were standing in a ray of sunlight. In fact, not even that. For a ray of sunlight is warm, and this will not be in the least appreciable to him. In fact, if I can arrange it, he will not even be aware that I am doing anything at all.”

“That,” Ethel remarked, “would be far better. I, personally, would not blame Bobby if he smashed your precious instruments completely if he discovered what you were up to.”

Carson gave a moody glance.

“Tell me something, Ethel, Why do you defend Bobby to such an extent? You cannot possibly agree with the way he lies.”

“No,” Ethel agreed. “I do not agree with that, but he is still my son, and that, to say the least of it, is one reason why I don’t like him tampered with.”

“He is also my son,” Carson reminded her, “and I’ll either make him an honourable boy or know the reason why. However, at the moment, this instrument of mine is only on the drawing board. It will take me perhaps three weeks to make the thing complete, and then I intend to experiment and see what happens.”

Ethel reflected for several moments, whilst her husband slowly filled his pipe. Then she said:

“Are you making Bobby the first subject or are you going to try it on somebody else first—yourself for instance?”

“I could not possibly try it on myself because there is too much control needed. I must have a separate subject. In any case if it does not work, as I said before, all we have to show is a failure. No injury, no knowledge of what has happened, no anything. Bobby can just as easily be the first subject as anybody else.”

“And will the effect be temporary or permanent? I mean, is it just for the time being while the effect lasts, like novocaine when you go to a dentist, and you get the most horrible after-effects in time, or——?”

“It will be permanent,” Mark interrupted. “Once the particular area has been dealt with it can never function again. It is complete destruction.”

“But how will it affect his behaviour generally? Will he become incredibly angelic, or totally changed in his nature, or what? It all sounds to me such a horrible dabbling with the normal processes of life.”

“He will not be changed in any appreciable degree,” Carson replied. “The only thing different about him will be, that he will be completely incapable of telling a lie. There are also the broader implications to this idea; everybody in this world, I’m convinced, with the exception perhaps of a few saints in the past or maybe even the fabulous George Washington, has at some time or other told a lie in order to escape some difficult predicament. Anybody who says he has not, is a liar thereby for saying such a thing. Imagine then, if this idea of mine could be broadened, if the instrument could be used to deal, not with a single individual, as in the case of Bobby, but with the entire section of the population. I wonder now what would a world without lies be like?”

“Ruinous,” Ethel replied promptly. “You just think it over carefully, Mark. Detach yourself from your scientific speculations and consider the world as though through a microscope. I do so sometimes, just for the fun of it. You will find that all society is built up on sham, pretence, hypocrisy, lies and deceit. Even in the finest of us there is some form of treachery. At least I have yet to find any particular part of the community where it does not exist. Anybody with a frank nature will admit that society is built up on false pretences. If you made everything truthful, I don’t see how things could operate at all. I mean,” Ethel continued, stumbling for words,. . .