Martin stared around the room. "So this is the trick!" He spat out the words. "They distract your attention, then they jump into this hole. It's just a matter of moving very rapidly. Probably they spend years learning it and think they have something very important when they master it." Bitter disappointment sounded in Martin's voice. He seemed to have forgotten the death they had so narrowly missed outside. He lifted the recorder as if he intended to smash it on the floor.
Unger caught it, took it from the human. "I thought you wanted to see what went on inside the Room of the Dreaming."
"I did, but I didn't think it was fraud. I sensed that something important was here." Martin's voice was the voice of a man who has lost a dream.
"Why don't you look at the recording?"
"To hell with the recording. It will only show more fraud."
"But—"
"I say to hell with it too!" Caldwell interrupted. "Our necks come first. Let's get out of here. Johnny—"
"Just a moment," Johnson said. Sweat was now visible on Unger's face, glistening in heavy yellow drops.
"Why don't you see the recording?" Unger urged. From the angle in which his head was held, Johnson had the impression the Dreamer was listening. The human listened too. He could hear no sound unless it was a thin mumble of voices beyond the barred door.
"The recorder is also a projector on the sound and visual tracks, is it not?" Unger asked.