THE NEW ADAM (7)
By:
September 5, 2025
The New Adam is a 1926 proto-sf novel by the Swiss author Hélène Dufour Pittard (writing as “Noëlle Roger”). The book concerns, one reads in the Science Fiction Encyclopedia, “a wholly logical and unpleasant Superman created by gland transplants.” HILOBROW is pleased to serialize Book IV from The New Adam in Josh Glenn’s translation, from the original serialized in the 23 February 1924 issue of the journal La Petite Illustration.
FRENCH PROTO-SF TRANSLATIONS BY JOSH GLENN: Raymond Roussel’s LOCUS SOLUS [excerpt] | Noëlle Roger’s THE NEW ADAM [excerpt] | Alfred Jarry’s THE SUPERMALE [excerpt] | Jean de La Hire’s THE MYSTERY OF THE XV [excerpt].
THE NEW ADAM: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10.
— Ah! murmured Fléchère, struck by the bitterness in his voice and embracing him gently. Don’t you know that I love you like a son?
— A son, said Hervé.
He burst into his ironic laugh.
— Sons are never understood by their fathers… And yet, thirty years separate them… only thirty years!
Silenrieux’s discouraged tone was so pathetic, after the burst of his joy, that Fléchère shuddered. He pondered, his eyes on the ground. He saw with emotion the image of an unknown Silenrieux projected within himself, suffering from his genius. It was on that day that, for the first time, Doctor Fléchère wondered if the trailblazer [le précurseur] was not a victim.
And when Silenrieux asked:
— Master, I would like to obtain a favor from you…”
Fléchère replied immediately:
— Speak! If I can do anything for you, Hervé, count on my goodwill…
Hervé continued very quickly:
— Doctor de Javerne must know that I’m not mad… Can’t he leave me a few books? Books that are at my house in Paris…
— I’m sure he’ll agree! cried Fléchère eagerly.
— Then my servant will bring them to me… along with some clothes I need…
— Your servant, repeated Fléchère. Do you mean Mirbel, your assistant?
— Mirbel, my servant, replied Hervé peremptorily.
— He’s disappeared. No one knows his location. The police are looking for him.
A hint of a smile relaxed Silenrieux’s face.
— Do you know his address? cried Fléchère. I’ll ask Doctor de Javerne for permission to write to him, right away.
Hervé shrugged.
— Simply ask Mr. de Javerne to give me back a small square box I had in my pocket when his orderlies took the liberty of searching me. My box, and then permission to let Mirbel bring me my books.
— He certainly won’t refuse me, said Fléchère, standing up, pleased that Hervé’s wish was reduced to so small a thing.
Behind the door, he found the nurse who led him to the director’s office. Michel de Javerne, expecting a scene of violence and despair, surprised by his friend’s smiling face, immediately granted his request.
— He can receive a visit in the presence of my director. It’s the rule…
When Doctor Fléchère handed Silenrieux the small, hermetically sealed walnut box that looked like a simple carved cube, the young man began to laugh.
— Did he think it was a candy box? No doubt he tried to open it… But he doesn’t know the secret. Doesn’t it, Master, look like an insignificant box?
— Well, Fléchère said to him, here’s my pen, you can write to Mirbel.
Thank you, Master, it’s no use. Look…
With a flick of his thumb, Hervé activated an invisible spring. The box opened, revealing a thin, folded antenna and a cord wrapped around a thin, flexible membrane [timbre].
— By the way, Master, he said, carefully unfolding the antenna, you’re not yet familiar with this model of portable telephone, reduced and improved. Allow me to offer you one… when I’m free.
He was standing on the threshold of the garden, holding the device in both hands. Then, without raising his voice, Hervé said:
Mirbel, come to Douceville, in the Marne department… the insane asylum owned by Doctor de Javerne. It’s me, Silenrieux. I’ll expect you tomorrow.
Fléchère, stunned, looked at the erect antenna and the garden through which the message flew. And he imagined it passing like an invisible bird through the flowering clematis, before disappearing into the azure sky, to land… where?
“You think… you think he’ll hear you?”
— Certainly, Master! We have two such antennas that transmit only our messages.
He had placed his device on a table in front of the open door. Then he turned a relieved face toward Fléchère.
— Master, he said, resuming the deferential and affectionate attitude of earlier times, how is your Institute coming along? Is the work progressing? Have you followed my instructions? Have you thought big enough, modern enough?
Once again, the notion of the insane asylum was abolished. They were chatting animatedly, close to each other on the couch, when an almost imperceptible quiver of the bell made Hervé jump. Fléchère saw him raise the receiver to his ear and smile.
— Good… very good.
Hervé returned to his Master and said simply:
— He’ll come tomorrow.
— It’s extrardinary! cried the doctor.
— Ah! yes, your mail, so slow, so expensive, so irregular… that’s a thing of the past, Master, a thing of the past! The men who follow us won’t be able to imagine how we ever lived without that little box in our pocket!
Fléchère stood up. He embraced the young man.
— OK, he said, I’ll come see you next week!
— Next week… repeated Hervé with his sudden burst of laughter. Oh! Master… perhaps you’ll come back here before next week.
In the car taking him back to Paris, Doctor Fléchère thought with a vague unease about Silenrieux’s last words.
“Before? Why before? What did he mean?”
He saw again Hervé’s expression as he made the call.
— Hervé will communicate with Mirbel… But what could they do? Plan an escape? What good would it do? Even if he climbed the walls of his garden, he would be caught immediately…
Fléchère thought of the high walls of the park and all the scattered pavilions whose windows overlooked the paths.
— No, it’s impossible. Besides, the director will be there. And besides, Javerne has been warned… He knows everything now.
But a voice inside him suddenly protested:
“No, he doesn’t know everything… He doesn’t know all of Hervé’s power. Besides, even if Hervé escaped… Won’t Javerne soon have to free him? Do we have the right to imprison such a genius?… His discovery is marvelous… His discovery…”
The following Sunday, Michel de Javerne dined at the Fléchères’. He loved the house, Marie’s smile, Jacqueline’s subtle gestures, the discussions with his colleague, to whom Marie listened attentively, thinking of her son…
That evening, he found that the Silenrieux case was taking up too much space in the conversation.
—How is he? How do you find him? Don’t you think his treatment will soon be over? Fléchère asked.
— I find him very tired, Michel de Javerne was saying. I suspect he’s not sleeping, although he claims otherwise. He threw himself on the volumes his servant brought him. Speaking of which, it’s rather strange; I saw on his table, next to a pile of physics books that make him burst out laughing, Pascal’s Pensées.
— Yes… yes… I know… replied Fléchère.
— I mean, I authorized this library to please you, my dear friend. But I believe the absolute rest I imposed on him was much better for him. The rest I impose on my other patients…
— Silenrieux is not a sick man… Fléchère couldn’t help but interject.
De Javerne was already exclaiming when the telephone rang in the study, adjoining the dining room.
— They never leave us alone, de Javerne murmured.
The servant introduced himself:
— They’re asking for Dr. de Javerne on the phone…
— Ah! De Javerne, said Fléchère, mechanically continuing the usual joke, it’s as if you’re doing it on purpose!
De Javerne, apologizing, stood up.
— It’s from Neuilly, isn’t it? he asked, following the servant. I believe I heard from Douceville, Doctor, replied the servant.
— Douceville? repeated Fléchère. And immediately, he thought of Silenrieux. It was as if the pale, radiant face floated before him… those laughing green eyes.
RADIUM AGE PROTO-SF: “Radium Age” is Josh Glenn’s name for the nascent sf genre’s c. 1900–1935 era, a period which saw the discovery of radioactivity, i.e., the revelation that matter itself is constantly in movement — a fitting metaphor for the first decades of the 20th century, during which old scientific, religious, political, and social certainties were shattered. More info here.
SERIALIZED BY HILOBOOKS: James Parker’s Cocky the Fox | Annalee Newitz’s “The Great Oxygen Race” | Matthew Battles’s “Imago” | & many more original and reissued novels and stories.