Suddenly, the teleo-electronic man spun forcefully, and strode to the side of the first sleeper whom he had indicated before to Amco.
"We'll revive this one," he radiated. "His sleep has been the longest. He was the first sleeper."
"How are they awakened?" questioned Amco "—if they can be awakened at all."
"I—I don't know," radiated the electronic man humbly. "That was never included in my training. Evidently it wasn't planned at all."
A sound startled Amco as a sudden sound might be expected to do in a place that seemed dead and soundless. A human moan. It rasped alienly down the hall, echoing eerily through the loneliness. The teleo-electronic man stared. The first sleeper was moving.
"None of them have stirred before," radiated the robot. "Look! His arms are moving."
Amco was watching. The arms that hadn't moved for so very long were moving now. The wrists flexed. The forearms quivered, then the whole arm moved up. Fingers spread, clenched, spread again. Lips parted, eye-lids flickered slightly.
The robot hastily removed the mechanism from the first sleeper's head and bent over him. Amco felt the mystic awakening vapor of the sleeper's brain.
Abruptly the first sleeper sat up and looked at them. Amco felt that he was looking into space and time. The eyes of the now awakened sleeper seemed circuitous, spinning pools of eternity.
"How long?" his extra-sensory communication centers radiated, weakly at first. "Where I've been, you know, there's no time."