Von Ulrich set off an alarm and in less than four seconds Barton was over there sending a report out to the authorities, a report Von Ulrich immediately canceled as being false.
Von Ulrich seemed to dissolve in a haze of fading light.
"Is that you, Von Ulrich, sir?"
"I'm afraid so, Barton. Back again."
Von Ulrich sat down in the contour chair and filled a pipe.
"Remember, Barton when you took your test for basketball duty? The dead man's float?"
"I sort of remember it, sir. It was fun."
Von Ulrich flinched. "Fun? I've gone over that report on your test, Barton. It doesn't make sense. What the hell are you anyway? A damned freak, a mutation, an alien in disguise?"
The dead man's float had been pleasant for Barton, that was all he could remember about it. They had taken off all Barton's clothes so that nothing touched Barton's body but a blacked-out head-mask through which to get air. He had been put in a tank of water at body temperature upside down and floated there. There was no sensation. It had been one of the happiest times of his life. Like floating on air. Hearing nothing, seeing nothing, feeling nothing except his own existence. Not even able to tell which was right side up, or right side down, cross-wise or whatnot. He had been told to keep still, but nobody had needed to tell him to do that.