“Mr. Dunworthy, wake up,” Colin whispered. He was shining a pocket torch in his face. “What is it?” Dunworthy said, blinking against the light. He groped for his spectacles. “What’s happened?” “It’s me, Colin,” he whispered. He turned the torch on himself. He was wearing, for some unknown reason, a large white lab coat, and his face looked strained, sinister in the upturned light of the torch. “What’s wrong?” Dunworthy asked. “Nothing,” Colin whispered. “You’re being discharged.” Dunworthy hooked his spectacles over his ears. He still couldn’t see anything. “What time is it?” he whispered.
...more
