for all the good that it was doing.
Morishi couldn't quite get over it. It was as if the man was in a walking coma of some kind.
He saw the man step into a transport tube and realized that he had no choice: if he was going to stick with his subject, continue his "scientific" observation, then he was going to have to get into the transport tube with him. Morishi had no idea how the man would react. He might ignore him, he might engage Morishi in conversation, he might turn violent: one guess was as good as any other. Nonetheless, Morishi steeled himself and followed him into the transport tube, the door hissing shut and closing him in.
When Morishi had entered, he had done so on the pivoting of his heel, and had turned his shoulder so that he would be momentarily facing away, just in case his subject tried to prevent him from entering the transport tube. Once in, with the lift car safely-"safely" being a relative term-under way, Morishi stayed toward the back and studied the unremarkable-looking man with intense curiosity.
For his part, the man didn't even seem to be aware that he was there. Morishi was almost tempted to snap his fingers or, in some other way, draw his attention. Finally, yielding to temptation, he cleared his throat just to see if the man so much as stirred.
Nothing. He just simply stared straight up.
But Morishi noticed something odd: as the transport continued to move, the man's sight line started to change. He wasn't simply staring off into nothingness, Morishi realized. He was looking at a fixed point in space, and as the transport's position changed in relation to wherever or whatever it was, so did his eyes'. Morishi watched in amazement as his subject's gaze continued to shift. It was subtle, but detectable.
The lift door opened