"As far as I can judge," the biochemist said, "the diazotimoline has an effect on the mind. Not by itself, maybe; perhaps it needed the synergetic combination with alcohol. I don't know.
"Have you heard the theories that Dunne propounded on the mind?"
"Yeah," Bethelman said. "We discussed them last night, I think."
"Right. The idea is that the mind is independent of time, but just follows the body along through the time stream.
"Evidently, what the diazotimoline did was project your mind two weeks into the future—to the fifteenth. After two weeks—on the twenty-ninth—it wore off, and your mind returned to the second. Now you'll relive those two weeks."
"That sounds like a weird explanation," Bethelman said.
"Well, look at it this way. Let's just say you remember those two weeks in the wrong order. The drug mixed your memory up. You remember the fortnight of the second to the fifteenth after you remember the fortnight of the fifteenth to the twenty-ninth. See?"
"Good gosh, yes! Now I see how I made all that money! I read all the papers; I know what the stocks are going to do; I know what horses are going to win! Wow!"
"That's right," Kamiroff agreed. "And you'll know where to leave all those notes to yourself."
"Yeah! And on the afternoon of the fifteenth, I'll blank out and wake up in my bed on the morning of the thirtieth!"