Valur strode to a side door, entered, returned with a small neurograph machine. He clamped cables to the arms, legs and head of Trent, adjusted dials, then began his questioning. For minutes he talked, both he and the Elder studying the dials. Slowly, amazement came to their faces, excitement flickering in their eyes. At last, they freed the cables, and Trent relaxed.
"Satisfied?" he asked.
"One more test," Valur said, left the room.
Kimball Trent smiled at the Elder. "My story must sound utterly insane," he said.
"It does," the Elder said noncommittally.
Then Valur was back, gently carrying a plasti-book, opening it as he came. He spread the book on the table, opening it to a group picture, indicating one man. He took a small box from a pocket in his robe, made prints of Trent's fingerprints.
"It is he," he said at last, pushing the book and prints aside.
There was silence then, the Elder and Valur studying the man before them with awe-filled eyes. Trent shifted uncomfortably.
"Now, suppose you tell me your story?" he asked.