Bob was at the car as the first wave of rain and wind, broken into needle point mist, obscured lights and broke over them. He saw that, and then more. He saw Jim catapulted from the car as if pushed by invisible hands. Then Bob felt himself gripped, and felt, not chill rain, but absolute zero. It surely took no more time than the fraction of a second, before he plunged into a white world--a world without motion, without sound. But in that flicker of time fading so swiftly, Bob saw men in strange raiment, at first opaque, then solidifying. He saw, too, an elongated, golden red craft without wheels; and from it emerged a tall man with a silver skull cap. After that--absolute zero. It couldn't have been a point above. That was Bob's last thought--absolute zero. A tired sleeper arouses slowly, hovering between consciousness and dreamland because the mind dreads taking over mastership of the body. Such was the way Bob Winslow experienced his awakening. It was so comfortable, to rouse slightly, then plunge back into soft, warm slumber. At last voices disturbed his brain, and light beat against closed lids. With a sigh Bob opened his eyes. After one startled look Bob closed them briefly. He wasn't in his room. He was in a strange place, a room with tinted, translucent walls and concealed lights. The bed, sheet, everything about it, were odd. Bob started to get up. Sharp pains streaked along arms and legs. They passed and he tried it again. There was so much to take in: the squat chairs of semi-transparent material, the room with a screen at the farther end, flanked with metallic disks. The room itself, while rectangular, had curved corners. There was a peculiar scent in the room, pungent, yet not unpleasant. It had an exhilarating effect. And Bob thought suddenly of Jim Kenley. He had to laugh then, for Jim bounced up beside him, eyes wide. "Huh," he said. "Tornado hit us? What sort of hospital is this?" It came back to Bob--his departure from the laboratory building, to the car as the storm bore down. Then the figures--and the machine! That wasn't a dream. For Bob knew he was wide awake now, and this place was real enough. "Maybe," he answered Jim. "I suppose it is a sort of hospital. But where?" "I'm hungry," Jim announced, yawning. "Ouch! Damned funny. Pains all over. Like I'd been running ten miles. Sa-a-ay! Bob, I got hit out of the car, and somebody piled ice on me. Hey--where the hell's my clothes. Let's get out of this dump. Are there any nurses anywhere."