"Put
him to sleep," he ordered the medic. "He deserves about a month of it,
I should judge. I think he has brought us a bigger slice of the future
than we had hoped for...."
Ross felt the prick of the needle and then nothing more. Even when he
was carried ashore at the post and later when he was transported into
his proper time, he did not awaken. He only approached a strange dreamy
state in which he ate and drowsed, not caring for the world beyond his
own bunk.
But there came a day when he did care, sitting up to demand food with a
great deal of his old self-assertion. The doctor looked him over,
permitting him to get out of bed and try out his legs. They were
exceedingly uncooperative at first, and Ross was glad he had tried to
move only from his bunk to a waiting chair.
"Visitors welcome?"
Ross looked up eagerly and then smiled, somewhat hesitatingly, at Ashe.
The older man wore his arm in a sling but otherwise seemed his usual
imperturbable self.
"Ashe, tell me what happened.
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