On the screen, Colin could see the light come on over the food compartment, and the microphones picked up the sound of a bell. Harkins, who had not moved from the bed since his initial examination of the cubicle, looked up. The inner door of the compartment opened, revealing a tray with several steaming dishes, a pitcher of milk and a pot of coffee on a self-warm pad.
Harkins stood up. He looked at the food, walked over to the tiny open door and picked up the tray. Calmly he carried it over to the table, sat down, unfolded the napkin and put it in his lap.
"My God," Banning whispered, "you'd think he'd eaten this way all his life."
"Apathetic," Colin said shortly. "He refuses to admit anything unusual."
"How the hell could he rationalize losing consciousness and waking up in a windowless room?"
Colin shrugged. "Brain's a funny thing," was his only comment. His eyes were fixed intently on the screen. Suddenly Harkins noticed the slip of paper tucked under the corner of one of the dishes.
Colin leaned forward, took his pipe out of his mouth.
Harkins withdrew the paper and looked at it. Even on the screen, Colin could see the writing, almost make out the words.
Harkins stared briefly at the paper, turned it over and looked at the other side in puzzlement. He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned.