"Sir," the tech said hesitantly, "you were under the helmet for the full forty."
Jerry flopped back upon the pillows, staring at the other man as if he'd suddenly gone berserk. "That can't be," he said slowly. "I was in a long-life host. The clouds weren't even moving. That baby was living many subjective days in the forty-minute period."
"Begging your pardon, sir," said the tech, "but you must be mistaken. You were gone the full forty."
"That's impossible," said Jerry.
Jana, who'd been standing back from the two men, stepped forward cautiously, apprehensive at butting into something that was not really her affair.
"Excuse me, Lieutenant Norcriss," she said softly, "but Bob's right. You were gone as long as he says."
"You don't understand, either of you!" Jerry snapped. "My time-awareness in a host is subject to the host's time-awareness. So far as this host was concerned, a day was a confoundedly long period. But I could tell the elapsed time by watching the clouds, the height of the sun. They didn't move, either of them, visibly...."
"How's that again, sir?" asked the tech. "How long did you seem to spend?"
"Possibly an hour."
"Well, then." The tech shrugged.