The pilot shook his head. Dave snapped the arm sharply and the pilot screamed. He screamed a name.
"There's no way back?"
"No," groaned the pilot.
Dave let him go. "No way of communicating with the real world from here?"
"No."
"Do you know where we are?"
"Interstitial time."
"What?" roared Dave angrily.
The pilot winced. "I'm told," he gasped, "that time moves in quanta, like energy. We're—between two quanta of time."