Paul Eyre had been dreaming of a glittering green city at the far end of an enormous field of red flowers.  His eyes opened.  He had felt happy until then.  He sat up, shocked.  He remembered seeing the woman's face among the stalks of corn, the glimpse of the great tawny body beneath her torso, and his foot on the brake pedal.  The car had slid to a stop on the shoulder of the road.  He had put the gear into park and stared at her.  She had smiled and waved a white arm at him.  Her teeth were not human; they were sharp and widely separated, like a cat's, though they ware even.  He had begun shaking, and then he had fainted.

And here he was in a strange and bare room.

He started to get off the bed and became aware that an arm and leg were chained to the bed.  "Hey, what's going on here?" he yelled.  "What's going on?"

His ears drummed, and his heart jumped.  He lay down again and stared at the single bright light, a bulb in the ceiling shielded by heavy wires.  Then he saw the TV camera, like a one-eyed gargoyle squatting on a metal ledge.  A few minutes later, the door opened.  A woman shrouded in white cloth and glass entered.  In one gloved hand, she held a hypodermic syringe.

The momentarily opened door had revealed, in the hall, a broad and heavy male face with thick black eyebrows, a broken nose, and thick lips.

"How are you, Mr. Eyre?" a muffled voice said from behind the glass plate.  She stood at the foot of the bed as if she were waiting for permission to advance.

"Where am I?  What's going on?"

"You're in the Adler Sanitarium. You've been in a catatonic state for four days.  I'm Mrs. Epples, and I'm here to help you get well.  I'd like to give you a shot.  It's just to tranquilize you; it won't hurt you."

She was speaking so strangely, so unlike a nurse, he realized, because she was afraid '.of him.  If he said no, she wasn't going to insist to insist.