The man's head nodded approvingly. "A sound question, Winslow. For that request, I introduce myself. I am Vasper, assigned to instruct you. Believe me when I say you actually are in the year 3300 and upon the North American continent, in a region once known as Arkansas. So much for that. You grasp the falseness of past time, balanced against space. You understand dimly, I am certain—for it was shortly after 1940 that the Palonian theory of the spiral universe was developed from previous ideas. Well, we know now that the same rule applied to time and space without beginning, has no final boundary. Thus, if there is no beginning, there is no end. If past time and space zones exist, then so must future time and space zones exist. We have proved that very definitely, in your case. I must go now," Vasper added quickly. He smiled, eyes flicking to the dazed Jim Kenley struggling to his feet. "The barrier is gone now. We put it up, for unbelievers. Walk into the screen. I shall visit you there, within the hour."
The disks ceased whirling. The screen faded to flat white, and Jim Kenley leaned against his bed, mumbling. "A nut," he said. "A goof, with the baseball season coming on—and the Belmont Stakes—and—everything. And my job—a bonus if I finished by the first of the month!"
Bob went across to his friend. He felt sick, shaky. The impact of Vasper's revelation was sufficient to daze any man, Bob felt. Now he patted Jim's shoulder. "Then we're two nuts, Jim.
"We're in something, too big to grasp all at once. I'll stick by you, Jim. Come on, let's do what—what Vasper said."
Jim looked long and searchingly at Bob. He gripped his hand. "I'm dumb," he said slowly. "Yeah, I saw men, and a funny looking thing like a gold tank—before they jumped us."
"I saw it, too, Jim."
"Then—then we're really somewhere else." Jim shuddered, then straightened his body. "Okay Bob. I'll try and take it, if I don't go nuts. We walk into the screen, huh? Boy—if that isn't hot. Walking into screens over a thousand years ahead of your time—or is it after."
Still bewildered, the two walked slowly to the screen, kept on as the disks sprang into life again. Bob flinched involuntarily, but he felt no obstacle. They just walked through the screen as if it were a shadow, and they were in a smaller room, with beds similar to the ones they had vacated. There was a screen, much smaller, and chairs of translucent, blue substance. The ceiling was low and glowed faintly, as if reflecting daylight. But there were no windows. Jim walked to a door, and it swung open of itself. "Huh. Kind of an electric eye. Hey, look. Monkey suits."
There was clothing, and the metal helmets like Vasper wore. Bob rubbed his chin. "Well, we might as well try 'em on."