In spirit, at least.
In body, though, he still might have his uses.
Burke held his voice carefully level. "In other words, then, you won't even let me use your name as supporting authority for my statement that the ruins at Knossos still show radiation traces?"
The Professor: "I'm sorry, Dion."
"But the time inverter—"
"Are you completely insane, boy? I built that thing with university funds. If anyone should find out about it, and that I didn't have proper authorization for it—well, all I've got to say is that I'm going to junk it first thing in the morning, before The Director has a chance to snoop around."
What happens to a man when he plunges into that deep a pit? How many blows can he take before he cracks?
Burke didn't even recognize that it was raining when he stepped out into the street.
Dully, he tramped through the gathering dusk. Block after block, mile after mile, hardly aware that his clothes clung to his body, soaked, or that water sloshed in and out of his shoes with every step.