"Stol av oblivion" , en novelette av Eric Frank Russell , en del av mitt (oaccepterade) svar på den här gamla frågan ; först publicerad i Förvånande Science-fiction , november 1941 , tillgängligt på Internetarkiv .
Tjuv får kontroll över en enhet (stol?) som tillåter honom att ta över en annan persons kropp inom ett avstånd på 100-200m. Personens själ skjuts ut / dör.
Tjuven heter Jensen. Här avlyssnar han på en konversation mellan uppfinnaren och hans bärare:
Fatty's name was Blenkinsop and he addressed the other sometimes as Wane, sometimes as Doctor. The machine, of which Jensen had managed to catch a momentary glimpse through the crack, was a highly polished and complicated affair that bore slight resemblance to a computer-panel surmounted by a hair-dryer. It was fitted to a high-backed chair and a thick cable connected it with the electric mains.
[. . . .]
"But this can liberate the psyche of any person. It's a major breakthrough."
"Who wants to liberate his psyche? Who'll pay to have it done and how much will he pay? Hell, pigs can fly these days so what's the use of an automatic psyche-liberator? If I go to see Maisie in the south of France, I go in person, flesh, blood, clothes and all. What would be the sense of sending her my astral body? She couldn't have fun with a ghost."
"You forget," said Wane, his voice rising, "that the gain in life-power is so great that the affected personality can escape and literally take over any other living body it desires, ejecting the natural owner forever—unless, of course, the owner happens to have received treatment giving him power equal or greater."
"That's body-snatching," defined Blenkinsop with another obese grin. "You've developed three or four excellent things in your time but now you've slipped up. I can't make two percent out of a mechanical body-snatcher and I'm not interested in the thing."
[. . . .]
"Ah, Blenkinsop—you've killed him!"
"That's right. I've shut his trap for keeps. It was easy."
Wane brooded in silence awhile, then said, "Without a doubt you will be punished for that."
"Hah!" said Jensen. He leaned forward. "Listen Pop or Professor or whatever you like to be called. I've heard all about this contraption of yours. Porky was no fool and he was ready to believe it really works. I could tell that you knew it does really work. That's fine! That's topnotch! You are going to be my fairy godmother."
"In what way?"
"You're going to help me get a nice new body."
En fälla sprids på brottslingen genom att ge en mycket frestande kandidat att stjäla kroppen från. När den brottsliga stjäl den här kroppen finner han att kroppen tillhör en dödsrad, som kommer att vara elektrokuten.
"I went to the authorities and reported everything," Wane went on. "As happened, they had just located Rapalli and were planning to take him. They agreed to my suggestion and held off while I used him as bait. My advertisement appeared in a score of papers for ten days before you swallowed the hook. I then made the appointment on which you insisted. I made it here, at Rapalli's hide-out, and the powers-that-be kindly arranged to have the facing room across the street made vacant. Immediately you rented it and moved in with the projector we knew we'd got you where we wanted you." Again he brushed back his white hair. His expression was tired. "Now I shall destroy my device."
"Come along, Rapalli," growled one of the four. He clamped a powerful hand on Jensen's forearm.
"I'm not Rapalli," shouted Jensen, his features livid. "I'm . . . I'm—"
"Well, who are you?" The questioner registered a craggy smile. "You've got Rapalli's face and fingerprints. You've got his body and that's all the law wants, all the law intends to punish."
"Damn you!" yelled Jensen as the cuffs clicked on his wrists. His infuriated eyes discovered Wane going out through the door; he struggled violently, tugging and kicking and using obscene language.