Electrical phenomena in cellular energy. Edward P. Mitchell. Transparent man Translation from English by Elena Puchkova

Transcription from English Mitchel. Surname A surname common in Scotland, northern and southwestern England, and Ireland. Goes back to the Old English micel (pronounced identically with the palatalized “C”, that is, “H”) and means ... ... Wikipedia

- (Mitchell) Margaret (1900 49), American writer. A long-lasting bestseller, the novel Gone with the Wind (1936) is a love story of duel and survival in an environment of social, civil upheaval and the triumph of mercantilism of a woman with a strong and rich... Modern encyclopedia

The highest peak of the Appalachians in the North. America. Height 2037 m... Big Encyclopedic Dictionary

Noun, number of synonyms: 1 vertex (213) ASIS Dictionary of Synonyms. V.N. Trishin. 2013… Synonym dictionary

Sharmba Mitchell general information Full name: Sharmba David Mitchell Nickname: Little big man(eng. Little Big Man) Citizenship ... Wikipedia

Margaret Mitchell Margaret Munnerlyn Mitchell Margaret Mitchell, 1941 Date of birth: November 8, 1900 ... Wikipedia

Radha Mitchell Radha Mitchell Radha Mitchell in the movie Silent Hill Birth name: Radha Rani Amber Indigo Onunda Mitchell Date of birth ... Wikipedia

- (Mitchell) Margaret (1900, Atlanta, Georgia - 1949, ibid.), American writer. Grew up in rich family Southerners, the views of the feminist mother (which the daughter inherited) ran counter to the conservatism of the father, a lawyer and president of the historical... Literary encyclopedia

Mountain peak in the Blue Ridge Mountains (USA). High 2037 m - the highest point of the Appalachians, located in the southwest. lifting parts. Refers to the type of residual mountains. Composed of quartzites. Formed in a passive tectonic block. The relief of Mitchell is typical for... ... Geographical encyclopedia

Peter Dennis Mitchell (born September 29, 1920, Mitcham, Surrey; April 10, 1992, Bodmin, Cornwall) English biochemist, Nobel Prize laureate in chemistry (1978). Biography Peter Mitchell was educated at Cambridge... ... Wikipedia

Books

• Gone with the Wind Volume 1, Mitchell M.. According to legend, the creation of the novel “Gone with the Wind” began with the fact that Margaret Mitchell wrote the main line of the last chapter: “Carlett was never able to…
• Gone With the Wind. Volume 2, Mitchell M.. According to legend, the creation of the novel “Gone with the Wind” began when Margaret Mitchell wrote the main phrase of the last chapter: “Scarlett was never able to…

This book is intended for preliminary information only! Please remove this file from

hard drive after reading. Thank you.

P.T. Michel

MISTER BLACK: The Story of a Billionaire US Navy Agent

Episode "In the Shadows #1"

original name: Mister Black (In the Shadows #1) P.T. Michelle

"Mr. Black", episode "In the Shadows" part 1, P.T. Michel

Translator: Svetlana K.

Checker: Mistress

Editor: Lyusya A.

Proofreading: Matreshka

Design and cover: Mistress

Translated for the group: https://vk.com/bellaurora_pepperwinters

(the book contains obscene language and scenes of a sexual nature)

translators and group are PROHIBITED!

Please respect other people's work!

We all meet someone in our lives with whom our paths cross,

fundamentally changing ourselves. These may be individuals who rush by

through our lives, leaving an imprint on our soul. They cut into our thoughts

into our hearts and into the decisions we make. The soul is broken or vice versa,

a dream appears, depending on how you look at it.

My identity is Mr. Black.

I didn't know his real name when I first met him.

I didn't know anything about him at all, but the impression he left behind

myself was as powerful as the name I call it today.

He is Black: a merciless bodyguard and masterful seducer.

I am Red: a fighter for justice and a willing participant.

Together we are passion. Colors colliding in each other's lives.

And when our secrets come together in a passionate meeting, maybe

Is it worth coming out of the shadows just to take a risk?

* Black - Black - black, Red - Red, red, red.

A contemporary romantic thriller aimed at readers

I hate him. I hate him, I hate them both, - words with a whistle

escape my mouth as I walk very quickly through the unforgiving, cold

pouring rain. Water sloshes inside my leaky tennis shoes with every

with a smacking impact on the sidewalk where trash is scattered. I have no idea how

ran away far. A couple of miles? Ten? It seemed like an eternity. A car passes

passing by, the wheels raise splashes of water. I barely spare him a glance. I do

short breath, I breathe furiously quickly and heavily, I cannot straighten my chest from

the one that squeezes my heart. Tormenting and endless images of little

Amelia with chubby cheeks fringed with blond hair and chocolate

colors through my eyes flicker in my head.

She was so calm. Now she is no longer there. All because of my innocence and

curiosity.

No, because of spinelessness and indifference.

I will never hear "Thalia" from her again or feel her loving

hugs that squeeze me tightly as I lift her into my arms. I'm starting again

suffocate.

Disgust rises in my stomach.

I stumble because my legs are shaking.

Before they completely refuse to move, I start walking briskly,

then to run, wrapping his arms around his trembling body. Light from car taillights

disappears into the distance, and the cold rain throws the hair that has escaped from my braid onto the

face. Greeting the gust of wind, I rip the elastic from the ends of my hair and unravel

thick braid with her fingers, freeing her red locks.

An hour ago, I would have rushed to my personal shelter, as I always did when

I needed to calm down or think. Fire escape near mine

the window did not help calm my torn feelings, but it helped save

life. I couldn't get down fast enough. And now I'm standing here, under

freezing rain, no coat. Not a very smart move for someone who isn't already planning

The mechanism of ATP creation remained a mystery for many years, until it was discovered that this process is essentially electrical. In both cases: for the respiratory chain (a set of proteins that carry out the oxidation of substrates with oxygen) and for a similar photosynthetic cascade, a proton current is generated through the membrane in which the proteins are immersed. Currents provide energy for ATP synthesis and also serve as a source of energy for some types of work. In modern bioenergy, it is common to consider ATP and proton current (more precisely, proton potential) as alternative and mutually convertible energy currencies. Some functions are paid for in one currency, others in a second.

By the middle of the 20th century. biochemists knew for sure that in bacteria and mitochondria, electrons pass from reducing substrates to oxygen through a cascade of electron carriers called the respiratory chain. The mystery was how electron transfer and ATP synthesis were coupled. For more than 10 years, the hope of discovering the secret flared up and faded again. The decisive role was played not by overcoming technical difficulties, but by conceptual development. The coupling turned out to be, in principle, not chemical, but electrical. In 1961, the English scientist P. Mitchell published in the journal "Nature" a radical idea to solve the biochemical mystery of the century: the chemiosmotic hypothesis. Mitchell's idea was a truly revolutionary paradigm shift, a transformation of the conceptual framework, and at first caused heated debate.

In 1966, Mitchell wrote his first book, Chemiosmotic Coupling in Oxidative and Photosynthetic Phosphorylation. In the same year, Russian scientists, biophysicist E. Lieberman and biochemist V. Skulachev, figured out how to experimentally confirm Mitchell was right. Using synthetic ions that penetrate a biological membrane, they showed that respiration and phosphorylation are indeed coupled through the proton potential. Another serious step in support of Mitchell was made by biophysicists from the Faculty of Biology of Moscow State University A. Bulychev, V. Andrianov, G. Kurella and F. Litvin. Using microelectrodes, they recorded the formation of a transmembrane electrical potential difference when large chloroplasts were illuminated.

A few more years of debate and meticulous testing in different laboratories around the world - and Mitchell’s ideas were finally recognized. He was admitted to the Royal Society of Great Britain (and, accordingly, became Sir), received many prestigious international awards, and in 1978 was awarded the Nobel Prize, which, contrary to tradition, this time was awarded not for the discovery of a new phenomenon, but for a guess about its existence.

The electron transfer chain turned out to be not just connected to the membrane, but woven into it in such a way that when an electron moves from the substrate to oxygen, protons move from the inner surface to the outside. The membrane forms a closed bubble that does not allow protons to pass through, so as a result of the “pumping out” of protons, a potential difference is generated across the membrane: electrical negativity inside. At the same time, the pH increases: the environment inside the bubble becomes alkalized. The protons on the outside are at a much higher electrochemical potential than on the inside, as if under “pressure” from both the electrical potential and the pH gradient, which push the protons back through the membrane into the bubble. A living cell uses the energy of such protons to perform different types work.

Amazing advances in X-ray diffraction analysis of proteins have made it possible to see the complete spatial structures of individual protein complexes that make up the respiratory chain. Electron transport chain proteins, localized in mitochondrial membranes, are able to change their absorption spectrum, receiving and donating electrons. Microspectral methods make it possible to trace the sequence of electron transfer along a chain of proteins and find out in which places the part free energy electrons are used to synthesize ATP.

According to Mitchell's idea, electrical energy is used to synthesize ATP from ADP and phosphate in mitochondrial membranes. Therefore, if the potential difference across the membrane is removed, it can be assumed that the synthesis will stop. This is precisely the effect that was demonstrated in experiments on artificial membranes using specially synthesized ions that sharply increase the conductivity of the membranes for protons.

Some of the first experimental evidence of the validity of Mitchell's hypothesis was obtained in our country under the leadership of E.A. Liberman and V.P. Skulacheva. As indicators of changes in the electric field on the membrane, synthetic ions were used, differing in nature and charge sign, but similar in one thing: they all easily penetrated the phospholipid film. After many attempts, the following elegant experimental model emerged.

A drop of phospholipids dissolved in an organic solvent is brought to a small hole in a Teflon plate, and it is instantly closed with a flat bimolecular film - an artificial membrane. A Teflon plate with an artificial membrane is immersed in a vessel with electrolyte, dividing it into two compartments with its own measuring electrode. All that remains is to embed a protein capable of generating electricity into the artificial membrane, and add penetrating ions to the electrolyte. Then the operation of the protein generator, which changes the potential difference on the membrane, will lead to the movement of penetrating ions through the phospholipid film, which will be recorded as a change in the potential difference between the compartments.

An even more convincing experimental model that allows direct measurements electric current, generated by cellular organelles and individual proteins, was developed and successfully used by L.A. Drachev, A.A. Kaulen and V.P. Skulachev. Particles generating electric current (mitochondria, bacterial chromatophores, or lipid vesicles with individual proteins embedded in them) were forced to adhere to a flat artificial membrane. The proton current generated by the generator molecules in response to a flash of light or the addition of appropriate chemical substrates was then detected directly by measuring electrodes on either side of the artificial membrane.

In 1973, U. Stockenius and D. Osterhelt from the USA discovered an unusual light-sensitive protein in the membranes of purple bacteria living in the salt lakes of the California deserts. This protein, like the visual pigment of the animal eye - rhodopsin - contained a vitamin A derivative - retinal, for which it was called bacteriorhodopsin. American scientists Racker and Stockenius elegantly demonstrated the participation of bacteriorhodopsin in energy coupling. By combining the newly discovered light-sensitive protein of purple bacteria with ATP synthase in a model phospholipid membrane, they obtained a molecular ensemble capable of synthesizing ATP when the light is turned on.

At the end of 1973, Academician Yu.A. Ovchinnikov organized the Rhodopsin project for a comparative study of animal and bacterial light-sensitive pigments. As part of the project in the laboratory of V.P. Skulachev at Moscow State University, in model experiments on artificial membranes, it was proven that bacteriorhodopsin is a protein generator of electric current. Bacteriorhodopsin embedded in an artificial phospholipid film directedly transported protons in response to a flash of light. The photopotential value on the membrane exceeded 0.3 V, which is obviously sufficient to provide energy for ATP synthesis.

Bacteriorhodopsin turned out to be an extremely stable electrical generator: it continued to work when heated to 100 o C and even in 0.1 N acid. During experiments with bacteriorhodopsin, the electrical part of the chemiosmotic hypothesis received its final confirmation.

After many meticulous checks, P. Mitchell’s theory was recognized as absolutely correct, and its scope was expanded far beyond the limits of coupling in electron transfer chains with ATP synthesis. It was clear to the scientist from the very beginning that the circulation of protons could support many types of work through membrane proteins.

Let us imagine, for example, a protein transporting a substrate S. If the protein has two functional sites, one for S, the other for a proton, so that the flow of S is coupled with the flow of a proton, until the driving force for the proton is also applied to S. Then proton transport will not only facilitate the transport of S across the membrane, but also act as a pump accumulating the substrate inside the vesicle.

A living cell has not only molecular generators and pumps, but also molecular “motors”. Evolution has created several classes of proteins capable of converting chemical energy into mechanical force. Some of them use nucleotide hydrolysis as fuel, others use ion gradients directly. There are protein stepper motors, and there are rotary motors.

Recently, computer biologists have been actively involved in the problem of converting chemical energy into mechanical work. They developed mathematical models that describe different types of molecular motors in formal language. The fundamental difficulty they had to overcome was the inability to use approaches previously developed for macroscopic motors, since the operation of molecular motors is strongly affected by thermal fluctuations. For this reason, theorists have dubbed protein motors “Brownian machines.” However, in the 90s. In the 20th century, algorithms were developed that made it possible to create a number of simulation models, in particular, the motor of a bacterial flagellum, the mechanical force of a polymerizing fiber, and the rotating motor of ATP synthase.

The main conclusion that the researchers came to is that the operation of molecular motors is unlikely to be based on new physical or chemical principles, however, it seems that each type of protein motor will have to create its own theoretical description.

The electrical energy of a living cell has another very important property. With chemiosmotic coupling of energy and work, direct contact between a specific protein that creates a potential difference across the membrane and a protein that performs some type of work is not required: the flow of ions or metabolites will ensure the coupling of two vector reactions at a distance, provided that they are appropriately oriented in the same membrane. This property is successfully used by living cells in mitochondrial networks that work as electrical cables. Scientists under the leadership of V.P. Skulachev mitochondrial networks were identified in different types cells and studied using modern methods electron microscopy, intravital fluorescent probes, laser microsurgery.

Moreover, it turns out that Mitchell's principle is used by groups of living cells to couple the energy production of one cell with the performance of work in a neighboring one. Necessary condition such cooperation is the presence of channels between cells that allow significant flows of ions and metabolites to pass through without leakage into external environment(see article “Secrets of Neurospora”, “In the World of Science”, No. 9, 2004).

Late in the evening of November 6, 1879, at about a quarter past eleven, I hurriedly turned just above the old reservoir onto Fifth Avenue from one of the streets that intersected it and crashed into someone who was moving towards me.

In the darkness of the night I could not see the man whom I had the honor of encountering. However, the habit of quickly understanding the situation and logical thinking based on the inductive method helped me to draw some conclusions about this gentleman even before I recovered from the unexpected encounter.

Here are some of them.

He's heavier than I am, and he's stronger on his feet, but he's exactly three and a half inches shorter than me. I also noted his top hat, thick wool cloak or coat, and rubber boots or galoshes. He is about thirty-five years old, he was born in America, and studied at one of the universities in Germany - in Heidelberg or Freiburg. By nature, he is quick-tempered, but attentive and courteous in dealing with other people. However, he is not in harmony with society: apparently, there is something in his life or in the reason for which he was going somewhere at such an hour that he would like to hide.

How did I know all this, not being able to see him in the dark and hearing only one thing from his lips? a short word? Okay, I'll explain. He is heavier and more stable than me, because it was not he, but I, who flew to the side. He is three and a half inches shorter than me because the tip of my nose was still tingling from the sharp edge of the hard frame of his top hat brim. Involuntarily raising my hand, I lightly touched the stranger’s cloak, feeling the texture of the fabric. And the silent step of this gentleman indicated that he was wearing rubber shoes. Having a keen ear, determining a person’s age by the intonation of their voice is no more difficult than by carefully peering at their facial features. When we collided, irritated by my clumsiness, he muttered angrily: “Bull!” – what only a German could say in such a situation. But the way he pronounced guttural sounds told me that the stranger was not an American German, but a native of America who had lived for a long time in Germany, and that he received his education south of the Main. Moreover, even in anger, he showed himself to be a gentleman and a cultured man. The fact that he was in no hurry, but for some reason wanted to remain incognito, I realized when the stranger, after listening to my polite apologies, bent down to pick up the umbrella that I had dropped during the collision, and continued on his way with the same silent gait.

I decided, if possible, to check the correctness of these conclusions of mine, and therefore I returned back and along the same street along which I had come, followed the stranger in the opposite direction, towards a lantern burning in the distance. We were separated by about five seconds, no more. There were no alleys where he could turn along the road. Not a single door in any house opened or closed. And yet, having reached the place illuminated by the gas lamp, I did not see anyone in front of me - neither the stranger, nor even his shadow.

As quickly as I could, I hurried to the next lantern and, stopping, listened. There was definitely not a soul around. The yellowish light of the lantern snatched from the darkness only small area streets. The steps were best lit and doorway a respectable brown sandstone building, I could even make out gilded figures above the entrance. This house was very familiar to me. Standing at a loss under the lantern, I suddenly caught a slight rustle on the steps and the clicking of a key in the lock. The front door opened slowly, then closed with a loud slam that echoed down the deserted street. And then I heard it open and close interior door. No one left the house. But even if my eyesight did not fail me, no one entered the house, which I had no reason to doubt, since the illuminated front door was ten feet away from me and was clearly visible.

Realizing that with such meager initial data it would not be possible to apply the inductive method, I stood for a long time, trying to find at least some meaning in this strange incident. The inexplicability of what happened was truly frightening. Therefore, I was relieved when I heard loud footsteps on the opposite side of the street, but, turning around, I saw only a policeman - playing with a baton, he was watching me with a menacing look.

As I already said, the house the color of dark chocolate, the same house whose front door opened and closed by itself at midnight, without anyone's intervention, was very familiar to me. I left him no more than ten minutes ago, having spent the evening with my friend Bliss and Bliss's daughter Pandora. There was only one apartment on each floor of this building. Since returning from abroad, that is, for more than a year, the second floor has been occupied by Bliss. I respected Bliss for his good-heartedness, but his absolute inability to think logically and scientifically was something I deeply regretted. And I simply adored Pandora.

Try to understand: my admiration for Pandora Bliss was without any hope of reciprocity, which I had long since become accustomed to. There was an unspoken understanding in our circle to respect the special position of this young lady, for her romantic experience was connected with tragic events. We adored Pandora unobtrusively, without ardent courtship - just enough to make her feel wanted, but not to hurt her suffering lonely heart. For her part, Pandora answered us in the same way, behaving very delicately. Being a woman, she, of course, flirted with us, but never allowed herself to openly languid sighs, invariably controlling the situation in order to immediately stop harmless flirting every time she was overcome by sad and so dear to her heart memories.

At first we tried to convince Pandora that she should not waste her youth and beauty, that it was time to turn over the pages of the past she had read in order to start living in the present. But after one day she firmly said that this was impossible for her, we stopped pestering her with such conversations.

The details of the tragedy that happened to Miss Pandora in Europe were not known to us. Apparently, she fell in love abroad, but did not attach importance to it special significance and behaved frivolously. And then her lover disappeared, leaving her in the dark about his fate, and she bitterly repented of her capricious behavior. From Bliss I learned some scattered facts, but not enough to reconstruct the history of Pandora in its entirety. There was no reason to believe that her lover committed suicide. His name was Flack. He was studying scientific research. Bliss thought him a fool. Like Pandora, who deprived herself of a normal life, constantly grieving about him. However, according to Bliss, all scientists are stupid to one degree or another.

On Thanksgiving Day, the fourth Thursday in November, I dined at the Bliss's, and late in the afternoon I decided to surprise the company with an account of the mysterious incident of the night I encountered the stranger. However, my story did not make the desired impact. Two or three of the more controversial guests exchanged skeptical glances. Pandora was unusually sad that day and listened to me with seeming indifference. Her father, pathologically incapable of perceiving anything other than platitudes, laughed openly, and then completely expressed distrust of me as an eyewitness.

I myself began to doubt that I had really seen a miracle, but I was still slightly hurt, and therefore I apologized and left early. Pandora led me to the exit.

“Your strange story is very interesting,” she said. “I, too, could tell you something about the incidents in and around our house - so, various amazing cases that, I think, would intrigue you. The darkness of this mystery is gradually dissipating. The sad past sheds light on today. But... let's not rush. For my sake, try to figure everything out.

Sighing sadly, Pandora wished me Good night. And then, as it seemed, my sensitive hearing caught another sigh, deeper and too distinct to be mistaken for an echo. I headed down the stairs, but had not gone even a dozen steps when I suddenly felt a heavy hand on my shoulder from behind. My first thought was that Bliss had caught up with me to apologize for his rudeness. I turned around, wanting to show my friendliness in return. And I didn’t see anyone.

However, I felt someone’s touch again – this time someone touched my hand. I involuntarily shuddered, realizing that logic and the inductive method were useless in this case.

And this “someone” pulled me by the sleeve of my coat, as if inviting me to go upstairs. Having obeyed, I took a couple of steps, and the grip of the invisible hand weakened. But as soon as I paused, the silent invitation was repeated with an insistence that left no doubt about what was required of me.

We began to climb the stairs together: someone guiding me walked ahead, and I followed. An absolutely unthinkable situation! Everything around was filled with bright light. My eyes irrefutably indicated that there was no one on the stairs except me. I closed my eyes. If this is an illusion, then it is perfect. A step higher, the staircase creaked under someone's light steps, which I clearly heard, someone walked in unison with me, I even caught the rhythmic breathing of my guide and companion. Reaching out my hand, I touched my fingers to his cloak of thick woolen fabric with a silk lining.

And then he opened his eyes. They confirmed that there was no one near me.

So, I'm faced with a serious problem: which of my senses can I trust? Either my sight deceives me, and my hearing and touch give me the correct information, or, on the contrary, do my ears and fingers lie, but my eyes tell the truth? How to determine what is true and what is false when feelings contradict each other? Who can figure this out? Brain? My mind was inclined to recognize the truth of hearing and touch, although my vision, on which I was accustomed to rely, denied this.

We went up to the top floor. The apartment door opened as if by itself. The curtain at the entrance moved to the side without any visible help and remained in that position until I entered. Judging by the furnishings inside, the owner of these apartments had good taste and a penchant for science. Wood was burning in the fireplace. The walls were lined with bookshelves and hung with paintings. The large comfortable chairs looked very welcoming. Nothing mysterious, nothing otherworldly, everything was adapted for the habitation of a creature of flesh and blood.

By that time, I had already gotten rid of the last vague suspicions that convinced me that something supernatural lay behind all this. What seemed inexplicable so far could certainly be explained. All I needed to solve the mystery was the key. My invisible companion clearly demonstrated a friendly disposition. Therefore, I was able to completely calmly observe the spontaneous movement of some pieces of furniture and interior design.

First, the large soft Turkish chair that had been standing in the corner was moved closer to the fireplace. Then a chair with a high square back, Queen Anne style, floated out from another corner and sat opposite the first. A small table on three legs rose a few inches above the floor and took up space between the chairs. A thick, medium-sized volume floated from a bookshelf to a desk, floating smoothly through the air at a height of three or four feet. An exquisitely painted porcelain tube slid from a hook on the wall and joined the book. She was followed by a box of tobacco that had jumped off the mantelpiece. And then the office door swung open, and, having made a short synchronized flight, a decanter of wine and glasses simultaneously appeared on the table. Everything in the room seemed to exude hospitality.

I sat down in easy chair, poured wine into a glass, lit a pipe and began to study the heavy volume. It was "Handbuch der Gewebelehre" - the Viennese edition of Bussy's handbook on histology. When I put the book back on the table, it opened on its own to page four hundred and forty-three.

“No,” I answered, “I’m not nervous.” I am a man of science and am accustomed to believe that everything, even the strangest phenomena, can be explained using the laws of nature; you just need to determine the appropriate one for this case. So I'm not afraid.

- All the better. You are a man of science, like me...” A heavy sigh was heard. “Besides, you have strong nerves and you are Pandora’s friend.”

“Sorry,” I interrupted him. “Since you mentioned the lady’s name, I’d like to know who or what I’m talking to.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to tell you before I ask you for a favor,” the voice answered. “My name is... or my name was Stephen Flack.” I am a citizen... was a citizen of the United States. What my status is at the present time is as much a mystery to me as, I suppose, to you. But I... was a decent man and a gentleman, and therefore - here’s my hand to you.

I didn't see any hand. However, I extended mine in the direction where the voice came from, and felt warm, living fingers clasp my palm in a handshake.

“And now, please,” the voice continued the conversation, as soon as the agreement of friendship was sealed, “read an excerpt from the text on the page that I opened in the book lying on the table.”

Here is a rough translation of what I read in German:

“Since the color of the organic tissues that form flesh depends on the presence of certain pigments of the third class, which include iron, the color range can vary in accordance with specific chemical and physiological changes. Excess hematin in the blood gives all tissues a reddish tint. The amount of melanin that colors the choroid, iris and hair can be increased or decreased according to laws recently formulated by Schardt of Basel. With an increased content of melanin in the epidermis, the skin has dark color, like blacks, and when it is completely or partially lost, a hereditary disorder occurs - albinism. Hematin and melanin, as well as greenish-yellow biliverdin and reddish-yellow urobilin, color organic tissues that would be practically transparent in the absence of these pigments. I regret that I cannot describe the results of Fröliker's highly interesting histological experiments. To this tireless researcher, with the help chemicals"We have achieved incredible success in gradually bleaching the human body."

“For five years I was a student and assistant to Fröliker in Freiburg,” my invisible interlocutor spoke again when I finished reading. – Bussy did not fully appreciate the importance of our experiments. Our results were so striking that it was in the public interest that they could not be made public, even in scientific circles. Fröliker died last August.

I believed in the genius of this great thinker and wonderful man. If he had rewarded my devotion with his trust, I would not be so pitiful and unhappy now. But his natural reserve and the jealousy with which scientists tend to guard untested results condemned me to complete ignorance of the most important formulas necessary for our experiments. As his student, I, of course, was privy to the details of laboratory research, but only the teacher himself knew the secret of the theoretical basis of our work. Because of this, such a terrible misfortune befell me, the like of which no man has experienced since Cain was cursed.

At first we tried to change the composition and amount of pigment substances in the body. By increasing the proportion of melanin entering the blood with food, we turned a light-skinned person into a dark-skinned person, and a dark-skinned person into a black one, like African blacks. By updating and varying our combinations, we could give the skin almost any shade. Usually the experiments were carried out on me. What kind of person have I been during this time - bronze, blue-violet, crimson, and yellow! During just one week of our triumph, I tried on all the colors of the rainbow. By the way, there is living evidence of the unusual nature of our work during that period.

“Caspar, show the gentleman your hair,” the voice asked in German.

Without showing any surprise, clearly accustomed to receiving instructions from nowhere, the old servant bowed and took off his cap. The sparse vegetation on his head was emerald green. Amazed, I could not help but express my admiration.

“The gentleman finds your hair very beautiful,” the voice said again in German. - That's all, Kaspar.

Having satisfied his vanity, the old man, putting on his cap, left with a satisfied look.

– Old Kaspar used to serve Fröliker, now he is my servant. We conducted one of our first experiments on it. And this worthy representative of the human race liked the result so much that he did not allow his hair to be returned to its natural red color. Kaspar is truly devoted to me, he is my only connection with the visible world, my intermediary.

“Now,” Flack continued, “I’ll tell you how I ended up in my current deplorable state.” The attention of the great histologist, whom I had the honor of assisting, was attracted by another, even more interesting area of ​​​​scientific research. Previously, as I have already said, he sought to enhance or change the pigmentation of tissues. And then he began a series of studies to study the possibility of completely removing pigments from the body through absorption, exudation, using chlorides and other chemicals that affect organic matter. And he was incredibly successful at it!

The experiments were again carried out on me. Fröliker himself was in charge of everything, and he initiated me only into those details that were necessary for the correct conduct of the experiments. I sat in his personal laboratory for weeks, not showing my face to anyone and not communicating with anyone except the professor and the trusted Caspar. Herr Fröliker was very careful, did not rush, carefully studied the effect of each new experiment, moving on to the next one only if he was confident in the results of the previous one. He moved towards his goal gradually, step by step, and always had a way to retreat. That is why I felt completely safe and complied with all his demands.

Under the influence of special drugs that the professor used to cleanse and bleach my body, I first became pale, then turned very white and ultimately turned into an albino, but this did not affect my health in any way. My skin looked like marble, and my hair and beard looked like fiberglass. Fröliker was pleased with these results, and the experiments were stopped for a while. And the professor gave me back my normal appearance.

In the next series of experiments, he exposed the tissues of my body to more powerful chemicals. I was no longer just discolored, but almost transparent, like a porcelain figurine. Then he paused again, giving me the opportunity to be in my natural form and allowing me to temporarily leave the laboratory. After two months, my transparency increased. Imagine a sea jellyfish, barely visible in the water. I became almost the same, only my habitat was not water, but air. While bringing me food, Kaspar could hardly find me in the room - that’s how transparent I became. During my voluntary imprisonment, only Kaspar was allowed to visit me, but I was surrounded by his care and did not need anything.

– What about your clothes? – I interrupted Flack’s story. – Against the background of a transparent body, she should have immediately caught the eye.

“Oh, no,” Flack replied. “Clothes walking around the laboratory on their own is a sight so grotesque that even the reserved professor could not bear it without laughing. To maintain a serious working atmosphere, he was forced to apply his invention to dead organic matter, making the wool of my raincoat, the cotton of my shirt and the leather of my shoes invisible. So I got equipment that serves me to this day.

It was during this period, when we had already achieved transparency of fabrics, but had not yet achieved complete invisibility, that I met Pandora Bliss.

Last July, during a break between experiments, temporarily staying in my natural state, I went to the Black Forest resort to restore my strength and health. In the small town of St. Blasien, when I first saw Pandora, I was fascinated by it. She and her father had come from the Rhine Falls and were heading further north. I followed them.

At the Stern-Inn Hotel I fell in love with Pandora, at the top of Mount Feldberg I already literally idolized her, overcoming the Hellish Pass, I was ready to give my life for just one kind word from her lips. On the ridge of Hornisgrind I begged her to allow me to throw myself from the peak into the dark waters of Lake Mummelsee to prove my devotion.

You know Pandora, so I think there is no need to make excuses for my crazy passion for this lady that has so rapidly gained strength. Pandora seduced me, made fun of me, we laughed together, drove, walked, wandered along remote paths in the green forest, made such dizzying ascents that the path to the peaks turned into one delightful long embrace. She talked to me about science and feelings, listened to my passionate speeches, full of enthusiasm and hope, pulled me back, cooled me down - in other words, did whatever she wanted, while her father, indifferent to such matters, was killing time, sitting in the hotel cafe with a cup coffee and looking through the financial columns of the latest New York newspapers. But to this day I don’t know whether she loved me.

When Pandora told my father what I was doing and what my prospects were, he immediately put an end to our short idyll. I think he considered me either a professional deceiver or a charlatan doctor. In vain I assured him that I would become famous and probably rich. “When you become famous and rich,” he remarked with a grin, “I will be glad to see you in my office on Broad Street,” and he took Pandora to Paris. And I returned to Freiburg.

A few weeks later, I stood in Fröliker's laboratory, illuminated by the midday August sun, and four people could not see me at arm's length. Behind me, Kaspar was washing laboratory vessels. Fröliker, with a proud smile on his face, gazed intently into the void where, as he knew, I should be. Two professors, colleagues of Fröliker, invited under a trivial pretext, discussed some trivial problem, almost touching me with their elbows. They were so close that they could hear my heartbeat. Before leaving, one of them asked: “By the way, Herr Professor, has your assistant, Herr Flack, returned from vacation yet?” The test was an unqualified success.

When we were alone, Fröliker shook my invisible hand, just as you did today. He was in high spirits. “My dear friend,” said the professor, “our work has come to an end, and tomorrow we will finally make it public. You must appear... or rather, not appear before the faculty meeting. I have already sent invitations by telegraph to Heidelberg, Bonn, Berlin. Schrotter, Hackel, Steinmetz, Lavallo - everyone will be here. Our triumph will take place in the presence of the most outstanding physicists of our time. And then I will reveal all the secrets of the process that I have hitherto hidden even from you, my assistant and faithful friend. You must share the glory with me. I heard something about a forest bird that flew away from you. My boy, when, having restored your pigmentation, you again regain your normal appearance, go to Paris and, having found her, appear before her in an aura of fame and scientific recognition.”

On the morning of the next day, August 19, while I was still resting on my cot, a disheveled Kaspar literally flew into the laboratory. “Herr Flack! Herr Flack! – he shouted, barely catching his breath. “Herr Doctor Professor died of apoplexy...”

The story has come to an end. I was lost in thought for a long time. What could I do? What to say? How to console this unhappy person?

Invisible Flack wept bitterly. He was the first to break the silence.

“It’s painful, painful, painful!” I am not a criminal before people, not a sinner before God, but I am condemned to suffering ten thousand times more terrible than that of the wicked in hell. I was born to walk the earth like a common person. I just want to live, experience the world, love like other people. But between me and everything that makes life truly worthwhile is an insurmountable barrier that will now separate me from the world until the end of my days. Even ghosts have a visible form. I'm actually a living corpse, I don't exist. None of my friends will ever look me in the face. Trying to hug the woman I love will only plunge her into an abyss of unspeakable horror. I meet her all the time, most often on the stairs, and every time I try to lightly touch her dress. Did she love me? Does she love me? If I find out, won't my torment become even worse? Be that as it may, I want to know the truth, that’s why I invited you here.

And then I made the biggest mistake of my life.

“Cheer up,” I said. “Pandora has always loved you.”

The table suddenly overturned, and I realized that Flack had jumped to his feet in a passionate outburst. With both hands he squeezed my shoulders tightly.

“Yes,” I confirmed, “Pandora has been honoring your memory all this time.” Don't despair. The secret of Fröliker's incredible experiments died with him, but why not, with your assistance, not make this discovery again with the help of experiments and logical conclusions? Don't lose courage and hope. She loves you. In five minutes you will hear it from her own lips.

Not a single most heartbreaking cry of unbearable pain can compare with that wild, pathetic cry of joy that burst out from my invisible interlocutor.

I hurried downstairs and called Miss Bliss to the landing. In a few words I explained the situation to her. To my surprise, she did not lose consciousness or become hysterical.

“Well, of course, I’ll go with you,” she said with a smile, the meaning of which I didn’t understand at the time.

Following me, she went into Flack’s apartment and absolutely calmly began to look around with the same smile frozen on her lips. Even at an ordinary dinner party she would hardly have been able to maintain such composure. She was not surprised or frightened when an invisible admirer grabbed her hand and covered her with kisses from invisible lips. With complete composure, she listened to the stream of tenderness and love confessions that my unfortunate friend poured out on her.

Amazed and puzzled, I silently watched this strange scene.

Then Miss Bliss withdrew her hand.

“I must say, Mr. Flack,” she said with a slight laugh, “that you are extremely intemperate.” Has this stay on the continent affected you that much?

- Pandora! – I heard him exclaim. - I do not understand anything…

“Perhaps,” she continued calmly, “you regard this behavior as one of the privileges of your invisibility.” Let me congratulate you on your successful experiment. This professor of yours—what was his name? - was probably very smart. You can make a fortune by showing yourself in public.

Is this the same woman who, for many months, grieved inconsolably over the loss of this man? I was stunned. Who can understand the motives of a coquette’s behavior? What science is able to explain her immoderate whims and caprices?

- Pandora! – he exclaimed again in surprise. - What does it mean? Why are you treating me this way? Is that all you want to tell me?

“I suppose so,” she answered coldly and headed towards the exit. “You’re a gentleman, so I don’t think there’s any need to ask you not to bother me anymore.”

“You don’t have a heart, but a stone,” I whispered as she passed me. “You are unworthy of this man.”

Flack let out a terrible, hopeless cry of despair, and Caspar immediately rushed into the room. The experience of long faithful service helped him determine where his master was. I saw him gasping for air, as if he were struggling with someone, trying to hold on to someone invisible. But the forces turned out to be unequal, and the old man was mercilessly thrown aside. He could barely stay on his feet, turned pale and froze in place, craning his neck and listening intently. And then, as quickly as he could, he rushed to the exit and began to go down the stairs. I hurried after him.

The door to the street was open. Kaspar stood indecisively on the sidewalk. The next moment he suddenly turned to the west and rushed off with such speed that I had to run as fast as I could to keep up with him.

It was already midnight. We crossed street after street. Finally, Caspar, probably sensing Flack’s proximity, muttered something unintelligible with satisfaction, and almost at the same second a random passer-by, who had stopped a little ahead at the intersection, suddenly collapsed to the ground. We continued the chase without slowing down. It was already possible to discern the hasty steps of our invisible fugitive. I squeezed Kaspar's hand. He nodded.

I could hardly breathe from the mad rush. Determining the direction by ear, we were now moving not along the pavement, but along the deck of some ship, among boards and logs scattered in disorder. There wasn’t a single light visible around us; we were surrounded only by black emptiness. Suddenly Kaspar, leaping to the side, tried to grab his master, but missed and fell on his back with a cry of horror.

Somewhere at our feet there was a muffled splash, the black waters of the river immediately closed again, and complete silence reigned.

Edward Page Mitchell

Translation from English by Elena Puchkova

Drawing – Andrey Simanchuk