"The test, of course, is whether these things continue after your machinery is shut off, isn't it?" Harker asked.
"Of course."
Time edged by. Harker's over-strained attention wandered; he took in the barren peeling walls of the lab, the dingy window through which late-afternoon light streamed. He had heard somewhere that the old-fashioned incandescent bulbs emitted a 60-cycle hum, and he tried unsuccessfully to hear it. Sweat-blotches stippled his shirt.
"Now!" Vogel said. He threw a master lever. The equipment whined faintly and cut off.
The heartbeat recorder and the respiration indicator showed a momentary lapse, then returned to their previous level. The EEG tape continued recording.
Harker's eyes widened slightly. A slow smile appeared on Raymond's face; behind him, Harker could hear Lurie cracking his knuckles nervously, and bespectacled Dr. Klaus tensely grinding his molars together.
"I guess we did it," Vogel said.
