"So," he said, wreathed in smoke, "I am told you think you are a time traveler, yes?"
"From the future?"
"The future, yes." I affected an expression of discomfort. "Do you think you could have the orderlies loosen these straps a bit? I'm starting to ache."
"I am afraid not." I didn't expect that to work: I've already tried to escape twice, and the last time I punched a nurse. Male, but, still.
"All right." My discomfort may not be physical, but it's real. The Device won't wait. The timer will send it back with or without me.