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. Thorby glanced at the displayed page, saw that he could not read it and wondered what language it was -- an odd one; the words were all seven letters, no more, no less. "Hi, Pop. Shall I start supper?"
"No room . . . and no time. Eat some bread. What happened today?"
Thorby told him, while munching bread. Baslim simply nodded. "Lie down. I've got to use hypnosis on you again. We've got a long night ahead."
The material Baslim wanted him to memorize consisted of figures, dates, and endless three-syllable nonsense words. The light trance felt dreamily pleasant and the droning of Baslim's voice coming out of the recorder was pleasant, too.
During one of the breaks, when Baslim had commanded him to wake up, he said, "Pop, who's this message for?"
"If you ever get a chance to deliver it, you'll know; you won't have any doubts. If you have trouble remembering it, tell him to put you into a light trance; it'll come back."
"Tell whom?"
"Him. Never mind. You are going to sleep. You are asleep." Baslim snapped his fingers.
While the recorder was droning Thorby was vaguely aware once that Baslim had just come in. He was wearing his false leg, which affected Thorby with dreamy surprise; Pop ordinarily wore it only indoors. Once Thorby smelled smoke and thought dimly that something must be burning in the kitchen and he should go check. But he was unable to move and the nonsense words kept droning into his ears
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