in a hunting rhythm because the sound-feedback through the
ear was gone, and the hortator had lost his audible beat.

Feeling died and he knew not whether he stood or sat or floated askew.
Feeling died and with it went that delicate motor control that directs
the position of muscle and limb and enables a man to place his little
finger on the tip of his nose with his eyes closed.

Aside from the presence of foreign matter, the taste of a clean mouth
is--tasteless. The term is relative. Jerry Markham learned what real
tastelessness was. It was flat and blank and--nothingness.

Chemists tell us that air is tasteless, colorless, and odorless, but
when sense is gone abruptly one realizes that the air does indeed have
its aroma.

In an unemployed body the primitive sensors of the mind had nothing to
do, and like a man trained to busy-ness, loafing was their hardest task.
Gone was every sensory stimulus. His heart pumped from habit, not
controlled by the feedback of sound or feeling. He breathed, but he did
not hear the inrush of air. Brain told him to be careful of his mouth,
the sharp teeth could bite the dead tongue and he could bleed to death
never feeling pain nor even the swift flow of salty warmth.
Habit-trained nerves caused a false tickle in his throat; he never knew
whether he coughed or whether he thought that he coughed.

The sense of time deserted him when the metronome of heartbeat died.
Determined Brain compromised by assuming that crude time could be kept
by the function of hunger, elimination, weariness. Logical Brain pointed
out that he could starve to death and feel nothing; elimination was a
sensory thing no more; weariness was of the body that brought no
information anyway--and what, indeed was sleep?

Brain considered this question. Brain said, I am Jerry Markham. But is
it true that no brain can think of nothing? Is it possible that "Sleep"
is the condition that obtains when the body stops conveying reliable
information to the brain, and then says to Hell with Everything and
decides to stop thinking?

The Brain called Jerry Markham did not stop thinking. It lost its time
sense, but not completely. A period of time passed, a whirlwind of
thoughts and dreamlike actions went on, and then calmness came for a
while.

Dreams? Now ponder the big question. Does the brain dream the dream as a
sensory experience--or is a dream no more than a sequence of assorted
memories? Would a dying brain expire in pl