'Now, let's assume that I've succeeded in peeling off your skull and removing everything else that surrounds the sides of the brain. That leaves it connected to the body only at the base, mainly by the spinal column and by the two large veins and the four arteries that are supplying it with blood. So what next?
'I would sever the spinal column just above the first cervical vertebra, taking great care not to harm the two vertebral arteries which are in that area. But you must remember that the dura or outer covering is open at this place to receive the spinal column, so I'd have to close this opening by sewing the edges of the dura together. There'd be no problem there.
'At this point, I would be ready for the final move. To one side, on a table, I'd have a basin of a special shape, and this would be filled with what we call Ringer's Solution. That is a special kind of fluid we use for irrigation in neurosurgery. I would now cut the brain completely loose by severing the supply arteries and the veins. Then I would simply pick it up in my hands and transfer it to the basin. This would be the only other time during the whole proceeding when the blood flow would be cut off; but once it was in the basin, it wouldn't take a moment to re-connect the stubs of the arteries and veins to the artificial heart.
'So there you are,' Landy said. 'Your brain is now in the basin, and still alive, and there isn't any reason why it shouldn't stay alive for a very long time, years and years perhaps, provided we looked after the blood and the machine.'
'But would it function?'
'My dear William, how should I know? I can't even tell you whether it would regain consciousness.'
'And if it did?'
'There now! That would be fascinating!'
'Would it?' I said, and I must admit I had my doubts.
'Of course it would! Lying there with all your thinking processes working beautifully, and your memory as well...'
'And not being able to see or feel or smell or hear or talk,' I said.
'Ah!' he cried. 'I knew I'd forgotten something! I never told you about the eye. Listen. I am going to try to leave one of your optic nerves intact, as well as the eye itself. The optic nerve is a little thing about the thickness of a clinical thermometer and about two inches in length as it stretches between the brain and the eye. The beauty of it is that it's not really a nerve at all. It's an out-pouching of the brain itself, and the dura or brain covering extends along it and is attached to the eyeball. The back of the eye is therefore in very close contact with the brain, and cerebrospinal fluid flows right up to it.
'All this suits my purpose very well, and makes it reasonable to suppose that I could succeed in preserving one of your eyes. I've already constructed a small plastic case to contain the eyeball, instead of your own socket, and when the brain is in the basin, submerged in Ringer's Solution, the eyeball in its case will float on the surface of the liquid.'
'Staring at the ceiling,' I said.
'I suppose so, yes. I'm afraid there wouldn't be any muscles there to move it around. But it might be sort of fun to lie there so quietly and comfortably peering out at the world from your basin.'
'Hilarious,' I said. 'How about leaving me an ear as well?'
'I'd rather not try an ear this time.'
'I want an ear,' I said. 'I insist upon an ear.'
'No.'
'I want to listen to Bach.'
'You don't understand how difficult it would be,' Landy said gently. 'The hearing apparatus - the cochlea, as it's called - is a far more delicate mechanism than the eye. What's more, it is encased in bone. So is a part of the auditory nerve that connects it with the brain. I couldn't possibly chisel the whole thing out intact.'
'Couldn't you leave it encased in the bone and bring the bone to the basin?'
'No,' he said firmly. 'This thing is complicated enough already. And anyway, if the eye works, it doesn't matter all that much about your hearing. We can always hold up messages for you to read. You really must leave me to decide what is possible and what isn't.'
'I haven't yet said that I'm going to do it.'
'I know, William, I know.'
'I'm not sure I fancy the idea very much.'
'Would you rather be dead, altogether?'
'Perhaps I would. I don't know yet. I wouldn't be able to talk, would I?'
'Of course not.'
'Then how would I communicate with you? How would you know that I'm conscious?'