Beside this, though, a general exhaustion overtakes me. I sit here waiting for more dictation. For the first time, almost weak with suspense, I know that the book must be finished, and that I must learn the outcome. And new fears assail me. Suppose whoever or whatever is giving me this manuscript suddenly decides to withhold it?

Chapter Twenty-One

Stage Fright and Preparations for Birth

Oversoul Seven grinned at Cyprus and said, “I hope it isn’t as difficult to get Lydia through her birth as it was to get her through her last death. She wouldn’t believe that she was dead for the longest time, in her terms, of course. Suppose she doesn’t believe in her new birth as Tweety either?”

Seven materialized as the fourteen-year-old male to complement Cyprus’ image as a young woman teacher. The two of them stood in a replica of the room in which Lydia would be born, and Seven looked around with a worried air. “These rehearsals always confuse me,” he said. “I think I’ve got it all right. There’s the cradle and bureau, complete with linen in the drawers. Everything is perfect seventeenth century. And I’ve explained Lydia’s role to her time and time again. I think she has it down pat: how to orient physically inside the baby, how to organize her perceptions.”

Seven had started counting the points he’d mentioned on his fingers, but Cyprus said, “Stop that, Seven. When you worry about details like that, you always make me nervous.”

“Details,” Seven said, indignantly. “Easy for you to talk! You just instruct, and I’m out in the field, so to speak. Uh, oh—” He broke off, staring at the cradle. He’d materialized it all right. There it stood, made of lovely earth oak wood, but he’d forgotten to make it solid in space, so that even though the shape was right, it stuck up like a piece of flat board.

“It’s a good thing that this is just a class situation,” Cyprus said, “or you’d be in trouble. No real baby would fit into that cradle. Talk about details!”

“Well, I’m glad this isn’t an examination because I lose points on details in every examination I take,” Seven said. “There, the cradle’s right now.” He grinned and added, “My marvelous inventiveness makes up for a lot.”

Cyprus tried not to smile, and she said with just a gentle touch of severity, “Well, remember, you have to make sure that everything is in readiness for Lydia’s birth as Tweety. I presume the new parents are all prepared, and that they have all of the necessary background information?”

“Right. Absolutely,” Seven said, briskly. “I’ve talked to Josef over and over in his dream state. He understands why he and Lydia chose to be father and daughter; or rather, why he and Tweety have.”

“And Bianka?”