Cautiously, he moved his fingers over it, recognized the texture of heavy synthetic kalor.
A bed, then.
The woman's voice went on, brisk and businesslike yet somehow intense: "I can't impress all of you too much with how important it is not to upset this man. Any shock prior to the complete celloscopic and hypnoanalytic examination we'll give him here might do untold damage—both to him, and to our chance of successfully working through his case."
Very carefully, Dane opened his eyes.
He looked out upon a dully glittering expanse of green telonium spaceship bulkhead. The viewing plate of a built-in visiscreen occupied a spot directly before him at eye level.
Centered on the plate was the image of the woman who was speaking.
Narrow-eyed, Dane studied her.
She had turned now to a concise discussion of technical details regarding amnesia—and that made the contrast between her words and her appearance all the more marked. For even over the visiscreen there was no denying her lithe, slender loveliness; and as Dane gazed up at the smooth oval of her face ... stared into her cool grey eyes ... he could visualize her in almost any role more easily than that of scientist or savant.
If he ever met her, perhaps he could persuade her to play a more feminine part.
It was a pleasant thought. But even as it struck Dane, the woman broke off. Her soft lips parted in a sudden, half-rueful smile. "I'm talking too much. You've better things to do than listen to my lectures, and—"