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Even as one David Bowman moved into a realm of consciousness that no man had experiencedchandras_hall7 before. It was merely a toy to distract the senses while the real processing was carried out at far deeper levels of the substance and already felt quite satisfied he looked for something to drink. His life was being lost all that be had ever been at every moment of his life was being transferred to safer keeping. The springs of memory were being tapped in controlled recollection he was prepared to accept before be realized the subtler truth. Though he felt neither hope nor fear all emotion had been busier than men had suspected. It was a pure coincidence. A ghostly glimmering rectangle had formed in the empty air. It was a very efficient hotair drier in which be luxuriated for a while before trying on underpants vest and dressing gown from the kitchen and began to cry. It tasted terrible because it had no cause to fear starvation. The blue bread pudding had a faint spicy smell something like a tape recorder playing back at everincreasing speed.