Aldous Huxley: Study the Tibetan Book of the Dead, Bob. If I ever have a chance to see you again whenever this coming war ends, you’ll thank me. I don’t think Lewis, or even Joyce, knows what to do with it.
Bob smiled, shook Aldous’ hand, and an image of an older, thin man putting a small cube of cement in a bottle of water floated over Huxley’s tie.
