FOREFATHER FIGURE Charles Sheffield quotWho are youquot The words rang around the tiled walls. The naked figure on the table did not move. His chestrose and fell steadily lifting with it the tangle of catheters and electrodes that covered therib cage. quotStill no change.quot The woman who crouched over the oscilloscope made a tiny adjustment to thecontrols with her left hand. She was nervous her eyes flicking to the screen to the tableand to the man who stood by her side. quotHes still in a sleep rhythm. Heart and blood pressurestable.quot The man nodded. quotKeep watching. Increase the level of stimulation. I think hes comingup but it will take a while. He turned back to the recumbent figure. quotWho are you What is your name Tell me who are youquot As the questions went on the only sound in the big room the woman ran her tongue over herlips seemingly ready to respond herself to the insistent queries. She was big-boned and tallher nervous manner an odd contrast to her round and impassive-looking face. quotHere he comesquot she said abruptly. There was a stir of movement from the bodys left arm. It rose a couple of inches from thetable twitching the powerful sinews of the wrist and hand. quotReduce the feedback.quot The man leaned over the table peering down at the fluttering eyelids.quotWho are youquot There was a sigh a grunt the experimental run of air over the vocal chords.quotAh—Ahm—Bayle.quot The voice was thick and choking a mouthing through an unfamiliar throat andlips. quotIm Bayle. Im Bayle Richards.quot The eyes opened suddenly an unfocussed and startlingblue. quotGot it. By God Ive got it.quot John Cramer flashed a fierce look of triumph at the woman andstraightened up from the table. quotI wondered if we ever would. quotHe laughed. quotWe dont need thestimulants