"Just one more question, Mr. North. Do you know the exact time of day when you awoke here?"
"How can I when I don't know how I got here? The last thing I remember is walking through the door of the bank to keep my appointment, at nine. What's happened? Did I faint?"
A glow of satisfaction lodged itself in Roger's mind; they were getting the time more accurately than he'd dared expect on the first trial. He pushed his luck a bit farther.
"Were you on time to make that appointment, Mr. North?"
"I'd have been five minutes early. Now will you—"
"Perfect!" exclaimed Roger. He turned back the dials.
Corvo North went limp for an instant, then reopened his eyes. Dr. Dane rushed to him and unbuckled the straps.
"Get anything?" asked the scientist weakly.
"Perfect!" said Roger again. "I've got a note of the exact setting—and you were able to give the time exactly." He scribbled hasty calculations on the pad. "And that setting took you back to January of Twenty forty-five. To be exact—six thousand seven hundred twenty-eight days, twenty-seven hours, seven minutes!"
Corvo North nodded weakly, but excitedly tried to rise. Dr. Dane, his hand on North's pulse, motioned him back.