First all was blackness, then in that blackness was a spot of light
that grew larger and larger and ever larger until the world was filled
with roaring light. And now the dim, fluttering sounds began to make
sense, and a voice was saying, "I see the young man is awakening. Good.
Now we will take a little trip through my laboratories."
This was Larry Wilson's welcome to the incredible surroundings in which
he found himself.
He was lying on a small pallet. Or, rather, two small pallets which
had been placed end to end to accommodate his six-foot frame. Above
him was a silken coverlet, beneath his head a soft pillow cased in
the same material. He moved an arm experimentally and discovered that
his rough, English tweed business suit was missing, as were his heavy
leather brogues. While he had been unconscious, someone had replaced
his Twentieth Century garments with those of Harg's era.
A soft and pliable leather harness fitted snugly about his waist--but
as he stretched himself up from his cot he saw that his gear lacked the
multitude of cryptic studs and instruments with which the scientist's
had been decked.