Interstellar travel by brain cylinder
The Colour Out of SpaceInterstellar travel by brain cylinder is a means of conveying a person’s brain across interstellar distances while leaving the body alive under separate care. Developed and used by the Outside Beings, the method turns a human brain into a portable intelligence: preserved in a metal cylinder, it can be connected to instruments that supply sight, hearing, and speech wherever suitable equipment is available. The result is a journey through space without the traveler’s physical body, but not without sensory experience or the ability to communicate.
Purpose and Principle
Akeley explains the method to Wilmarth as an answer to the apparent impossibility of crossing the interstellar void in a human body. The Outside Beings’ surgical, biological, chemical, and mechanical expertise makes it possible to remove a brain without, he says, endangering the person. The organic body is kept alive during the brain’s absence, while the compact cerebral matter is transported separately. The brain’s isolation is therefore not presented as death: body and mind are divided so that each can be maintained by different means.
The brain is immersed in a fluid that is replenished from time to time and enclosed in an ether-tight cylinder made from a metal mined on Yuggoth. Electrodes connect the brain to instruments that reproduce its vital faculties of sight, hearing, and speech. This equipment gives the traveler a kind of bodiless but articulate life. The machinery does not restore a traveling body; it supplies interfaces through which the brain can perceive and address its surroundings.
Equipment and Operation
The system depends on both a sealed container and adaptable sensory apparatus. The cylinder protects and nourishes the brain, while connected devices translate its faculties into perceptible and communicable signals. Akeley compares the arrangement to carrying a phonograph record and playing it wherever a compatible phonograph is available. The analogy makes the journey’s portability vivid, but also exposes its dependence on infrastructure: a brain can travel intact, yet it needs appropriate instruments at each stage to experience and express itself.
Wilmarth sees more than a dozen unfamiliar metal cylinders arranged on a high shelf in Akeley’s farmhouse. Each is roughly a foot high, somewhat narrower across, and fitted with three sockets set in a triangular arrangement. One cylinder is already linked to machines; other elaborate devices, with cords and plugs, stand nearby. Akeley describes four kinds of instruments, corresponding to three faculties each, and identifies cylinders representing several different kinds of beings. The collection includes three humans, six fungoid beings unable to navigate space corporeally, two beings from Neptune, and other entities from the central caverns of a dark star beyond the galaxy. The range suggests that the apparatus is not designed for human brains alone: different minds may require machines adapted to their senses and to the listeners with whom they communicate.
The B-67 Demonstration
Akeley has Wilmarth connect three devices to a cylinder labeled B-67. One machine has two glass lenses, another has vacuum tubes and a sounding-board, and the third has a metal disc on top. Following Akeley’s instructions, Wilmarth attaches the machines to the cylinder’s sockets and moves their switches. Akeley then tells him that the brain inside belongs to a human being. The ordinary actions of handling cords, sockets, and switches make the extraordinary claim concrete, while leaving Wilmarth unsure whether he is witnessing a scientific demonstration or the behavior of a mad inventor.
After a brief grating and whirring, the tube-and-sound-box machine speaks. Its voice is metallic, lifeless, and mechanically precise, but it displays enough intelligence and awareness to seem present in the room. The speaker says that his body is resting under vitalizing treatment inside Round Hill, about a mile and a half away, while his brain is in the cylinder before Wilmarth. Through the connected apparatus, he can see, hear, and speak. The demonstration thus gives the abstract account a human instance: the traveler is not merely stored or replayed, but converses through a machine while his body remains elsewhere.
Journeys and Claims of Success
The speaker describes repeated journeys and presents the separation of brain and body as a proven practice. He says that he has visited thirty-seven celestial bodies, including planets, dark stars, and less definable objects; eight were outside the galaxy, and two lay beyond the curved cosmos of space and time. He reports that these voyages have not harmed him. In his account, the brain is virtually immortal so long as it receives the limited nourishment supplied by periodic changes of preserving fluid, and the body does not age while the brain is absent.
The speaker also links travel to exchange and alliance. He says he first met the Outside Beings in the Himalayas and has assisted them in return for experiences unavailable to most people. He invites Wilmarth to join a future voyage with Akeley, arguing that the visitors wish to meet knowledgeable humans and show them regions usually encountered only in speculation. Akeley, for his part, expects to travel with the speaker in about a week. The invitation makes the device more than a mechanism for remote sensation: it is the means by which human participants might enter an interstellar network of exploration and contact.
Significance and Uncertainty
The cylinders and instruments alter the meaning of travel by separating bodily presence from experience. A traveler can be physically absent from the place where the brain is housed, yet still perceive and speak through connected machinery; the body remains alive, but does not accompany the journey. The technology therefore unsettles the familiar equation between a person, a body, and a location. Its apparent efficiency depends on a carefully maintained body, a preserved brain, compatible instruments, and the Outside Beings’ expertise.
Wilmarth’s response prevents the demonstration from becoming simple reassurance. Although the voice seems observant and intelligent, he remains unwilling to swear exactly what he heard or what occurred. The equipment’s visible materiality gives the claim a tangible form, but does not remove his uncertainty about its cause. That tension is central to the concept’s presentation: a procedure described as repeatable and supported by cylinders, electrodes, and machines still arrives through an unsettling mechanical voice, asking the listener to accept that a human intelligence can travel where a human body cannot.
