"_Did_ it!" muttered Hawkins.
Barlow opened his eyes and stirred, looked down, turned his hands
before his eyes--
"I'll sue!" he screamed. "My clothes! My fingernails!" A horrid
suspicion came over his face and he clapped his hands to his hairless
scalp. "My hair!" he wailed. "I'll sue you for every penny you've got!
That release won't mean a damned thing in court--I didn't sign away my
hair and clothes and fingernails!"
"They'll grow back," said Hawkins casually. "Also your epidermis. Those
parts of you weren't alive, you know, so they weren't preserved like
the rest of you. I'm afraid the clothes are gone, though."
"What is this--the University hospital?" demanded Barlow. "I want
a phone. No, you phone. Tell my wife I'm all right and tell Sam
Immerman--he's my lawyer--to get over here right away. Greenleaf
7-4022. Ow!" He had tried to sit up, and a portion of his pink skin
rubbed against the inner surface of the casket, which was powdered by
the ancient crystalized glass. "What the hell did you guys do, boil me
alive? Oh, you're going to pay for this!"
"You're all right," said Hawkins, wishing now he had a reference book
to clear up several obscure terms. "Your epidermis will start growing
immediately. You're not in the hospital. Look here."
* * * * *
He handed Barlow the stainless steel plate that had labeled the casket.
After a suspicious glance, the man started to read. Finishing, he laid
the plate carefully on the edge of the vault and was silent for a
spell.
"Poor Verna," he said at last. "It doesn't say whether she was stuck
with the court costs. Do you happen to know--"
"No," said the potter. "All I know is what was on the plate, and how to
revive you. The dentist accidentally gave you a dose of what we call
Levantman shock anesthesia. We haven't used it for centuries; it was
powerful, but too dangerous."
"Centuries ..." brooded the man. "Centuries ... I'll bet Sam swindled
her out of her eyeteeth. Poor Verna. How long ago was it? What year is
this?"
Hawkins shrugged. "We call it 7-B-936. That's no help to you. It takes
a long time for these metals to oxidize."
"Like that movie," Barlow muttered. "Who would have thought it? Poor
Verna!" He blubbered and sniffled, reminding Hawkins powerfully of the
fact that he had been found under a flat rock.