He experienced himself as a floating, disembodied point of view. The sensation was much like looking through the lens of a camera as it panned across a place of murk and strangeness. He had a disturbing feeling that there was something he had forgotten, something that he was not going to like when he remembered it.

Ominous music played in the background. Voices chanted softly, chanted in a hauntingly familiar language, but somehow he could not quite understand. The voices began to grow louder, seemed somehow nearer. It was as if an out of tune station began to slowly come into focus. He began to recognize occasional words, then fragments of sentences, as the mists started to thin and began to lift. 

A point of light appeared in the distance, like the first star of evening. It slowly lengthened into a Iine,and he began to feel the sensation of weight pressing down on him. He remembered that he had a body, that he was a person. He was alive. He was real. He had something to lose. The knowledge did not strike him as reassuring.

"In session", said the voices. The line reached the horizon on both sides and began to thicken. He drew a deep breath and smelled the odor of perspiration. The light now filled his field of vision, and the last wisps of mist began to vanish. He heard the voices again, and scraps of that strange, far-off music. "To order", they called softly.

"Von Welshing", he thought to himself. "I am Professor Von Welshing". He tried giving himself a little pep talk. "I am a famous and respected authority", he murmured. Although his area of expertise continued to elude him at present, he was certain that he would soon remember. "Something to do with the occult", he thought, "or perhaps sex crimes." A disturbing fragment of memory came to him unbidden. Something about a Djinn, and a bottle. Was there a large bird involved? A duck?

"Keep cool", the Professor told himself. "Anything can be turned to advantage". He was well aware that this was nothing but fatuous bullshit, but it was the best he could do. "All rise", sang the voices, and he found himself standing before the bench in a courtroom. The presiding Judge, wearing a powdered wig and a most impressive robe, reminded him of someone he had known before, someone he had had dealings with, to his lasting regret. It was Deja Vu, all over again.