She and Seven were two points of light hovering near the ceiling. Seven looked down and said, “Wait, I’m getting it, I think. Creativity happens constantly, and all existences are open-ended, so somehow Lydia and Lawrence are doing it differently this time. They’re more or less the same age. But what about Tweety?”

“Let’s see for ourselves,” Cyprus said. “Watch.”

Cyprus and Seven looked down again. The baby, Roger Junior, was crying. Lydia got up and went in to quiet him.

“What a crybaby,” she exclaimed; then bending closer, she was struck by the living miracles of his eyes, so clear and brilliant and incredibly dear …

Someone was saying, “You see, your memories are alive, and even changeable. You can live them, in all of their dimensions, so there’s no need to worry that you’ll ever forget your experiences.”

For a moment, Lydia didn’t know where she was or who was speaking. Then she saw the baby in the cradle and realized that she was standing there too, with Cyprus and Seven.

“This baby is Tweety,” Seven said, grinning. “And we’re back in the seventeenth century.”

Lydia stared at the room. It looked as real and solid as the other one had.

“Sit down,” Cyprus laughed, “and I’ll explain what happened.”

“Yes, I wish you would,” Seven said a bit tartly.

Lydia nodded. She looked so confused that Oversoul Seven hallucinated a cigarette and lit it for her.

Cyprus said, “Lydia when you’re involved with any birth, then through association you remember other birth experiences sometimes, when you were born, or when you gave birth. Often death experiences are connected in the same way. Except that your memories live, and this time you creatively changed them so that you and Lawrence were the same age. Your father—your new father, Josef—can’t bear to copy a painting, for example. So when you relived your memories, you changed the circumstances instead of copying them. When you’re outside of strict three-dimensional reference, you have considerable freedom with your own experience.”

“And your experiences form the basis of Tweety’s unconscious,” Seven said triumphantly.

“I’m glad you understand,” Cyprus said.

Seven blushed and said to Lydia, “I forgot too. And when I got confused earlier with the three rooms, then that, plus your confusion, triggered your twentieth-century memories and the whole episode.”

“But how many lives can you live at once?” asked Lydia, sounding exasperated.

“You’re usually aware of only one at a time,” Cyprus answered, smiling. But before you’re really all the way into a life, you’re often conscious of—”