Troy waited. Newland cleared his throat, said, "I ... I recognized you almost immediately this time! And ... I remembered that this same thing had happened before."
Troy grinned, too, guardedly. "My coming into the room this way?"
Newland nodded.
"It happened yesterday," Troy said. "What's my name?"
"Troy Gordon."
"And yours?"
"Jerry Franklin Newland."
"What do you do?"
"Do?... Oh!" Newland drew a deep breath. "I'm courier pilot for the ... for the...." He stopped, looking first surprised, then dismayed. Then his face wrinkled up slowly, like that of a child about to cry.
"That part's gone again, eh?" Troy asked, watching him.