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Show Excerpt t be superstitious--hypnotism is silly. Now go to sleep. For me, Dave Hanson. I want you well and true when you awake." Against his will, his eyes closed, and his lips refused to obey his desire to protest. Fatigue dulled his thoughts. But for a moment, he went on pondering. Somebody from the future--this could never be the past--had somehow pulled him out just ahead of the accident, apparently; or else he'd been deep frozen somehow to wait for medical knowledge beyond that of his own time. He'd heard it might be possible to do that. It was a cockeyed future, if this were the future. Still, if scientists had to set up some, sort of a religious mumbo-jumbo.... Sickness thickened in him, until he could feel his face wet with perspiration. But with it had come a paralysis that left him unable to move or groan. He screamed inside himself. "Poor mandrake-man," the girl said softly. "Go back to Lethe. But don't cross over. We need you sorely." Then he passed out again.
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