Sumpter came forward. The Speakers moved softly out of the shadows. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” Sumpter said to Oversoul Seven. “And you’ve certainly given us some education in a short time. But there are still so many questions important to us. Why did you bring Ma-ah here? How did you know about the third pyramid’s secret door? And are the Tellers really the Speakers? I mean, does the name mean the same thing?” He paused, then said quietly: “Perhaps most of all—are the ruins in the future the remains of our culture?”

Seven started to reply, unsuccessfully. For one thing, he didn’t know all of the answers. For another, an acceleration seemed to be happening all about him. His consciousness started to whirl faster and faster—swirling upward as swiftly as earlier he had been swept downward; yet, again, up and down were meaningless. For an instant Seven felt suspended just above everyone else, moving in the same spot so quickly that the others seemed motionless by contrast, caught in mid-actions, almost frozen into position.

The next moment everything vanished.

Cyprus stood there.

Seven stood there.

They were in the courtyard of the twenty-third century A.D. Above them, Seven’s huge letters blazed in the sky, with their boxes carefully marked.

“See? You got caught in your own analogy,” Cyprus said. “You just plunged headlong into the middle box, the one that you marked Present Time, and experienced some of its ramifications—”

“But—”

“The Dream Tribunal is over,” Cyprus said. “At least, in terms of your experience.”

“There you go again,” Seven cried. “Qualifying. And when I’ve got something very important to tell you. Lydia’s dead. Lawrence just came for her. What kept him? And there was no one to greet her—I had to do it myself—”

“Lydia didn’t believe there would be anyone. You create your own reality,” Cyprus said. “That’s the last thing I told you to remember. You forgot to examine your beliefs.”

“My beliefs?” Seven exploded. “Lydia’s the one who didn’t believe she had a soul—”

“And you let her belief sweep you under,” Cyprus said. “You accepted it, and that belief drastically reduced your energy and effectiveness; and drained your vitality. You weren’t able to use it because you accepted Lydia’s belief as your own. One of the most important jobs of an Oversoul is to instruct its personalities—not to fall prey to inferior beliefs: to become part of their experience but not to lose sight of your own nature.”

Cyprus broke off and said with very gentle severity: “Seven, for a split second you didn’t believe in yourself.”

“But what saved me?”