Seven found the western path with no difficulty. As he walked along as fast as he could, he couldn’t forget that this same spot of footpaths and tall shady trees existed in the space where Water Street and Walnut Street intersected. No, he realized: in the twentieth-century reality, he would have already turned and walked up Walnut Street. And somewhere in that area, George Brainbridge and Dr. Josephine Blithe were cruising around in George’s car, looking for John Window.

Seven hoped he kept the whole thing straight. He could hear himself later telling Cyprus that this had been the most complicated venture she’d ever sent him on. The fantasy in his mind faded, though, as he finally approached a large stone building with many verandas. Seven shook his head … this was a beautiful but hardly faithful replica of the old Christian Science church that sat on the corner of Church and Walnut Streets in George’s time. A small plaque read: “Administration Building.”

Was Window—Seven caught himself—Monarch inside? There was only one way to find out. Seven walked up the steps … and the door automatically opened.

As Seven stepped over the doorsill, he saw Monarch sitting at the end of a long, wide corridor. Seven quickly recognized him as the model of the hologram-man. But more than that, Seven’s consciousness merged at once with Monarch’s and, joyfully, Seven realized that Monarch and Window were the same and yet different. They were counterparts of each other, living in different times and yet more connected than brothers. And that meant … of course! Seven thought. John Window was also one of his own personalities, a counterpart of the others—and he had let himself forget these connections so that the various personalities would be free to seek their own ways unless or until they needed his help. And now they did.

But as soon as Seven recognized Monarch as the twenty-fifth-century Window and made other connections—and even as Monarch looked up with a glance of polite inquiry—the objects and space itself began to shimmer again, wrinkle into itself, blink off and on until, blinking himself, Seven found himself standing inside the twentieth-century Christian Science church, in the reading room, staring at a startled John Window and Gregory Diggs.

“How on earth did you find us here? I’ve never even been in a church in my life before,” Gregory Diggs said, as Seven appeared in the doorway.

“It’s a long story,” Seven replied. He felt relieved, surprised, and out of breath.

“Verily,” Window replied.

“He’s Christ again,” Gregory said, “and I’m going to see that nobody takes advantage of him.”

Seven shook his head. It was still hot, and his polyester suit wasn’t even wrinkled. “What are you doing here?” he asked.