Gregory Diggs whispered, “Window is Monarch again. It’s wild. Listen.”

Window, as Monarch, had a bemused expression on his face. He looked at Seven and looked through him at the same time, as if caught up in a spectacular daydream. The twenty-fifth-century Monarch began to stroll in the direction of the museum. He felt an odd disquiet. He wondered, for the hundredth time, what had given him the idea to dig at this particular tell in the first place. And as he thought, Window as Monarch spoke the words, in the restaurant: “I wonder what actually gave me the idea for digging at this particular tell to begin with?”

“What’s he talking about?” George asked Gregory. Diggs shushed him. In the background, a waitress was clearing the tables, and George leaned closer so that he could hear better.

“The Codicils’ origin could have remained a mystery,” Monarch mused, growing still more uneasy. “Or worse, I suppose they could have never been discovered. But what about our world, then? Without the Codicils, God knows what fate would have befallen the species.” And again, in the restaurant, his eyes looking nowhere, Window as Monarch spoke the same words.

Then his words suddenly became urgent. “I’ve got to check the Codicils again. I don’t know why,” Monarch said, and he began walking as quickly as he could toward the museum. Even the Monarch speaking to Oversoul Seven grew agitated—And so did Seven. The museum in the twenty-fifth century correlated with George’s house. Seven knew that he had to go there right away—and that Window had to go with him.

“It’s all right,” Seven said, to Window, who now was silent. “We’ll work it all out. We have to.”

“Work what out?” asked George, sounding irritated.

Seven had been concentrating on “Monarch’s” words so intently that he hadn’t even realized that George and Josephine had returned. Now he looked up at them all in sudden dismay. How could he explain what he’d just learned? What delightful human companions they were—he looked at them with a fondness that surfaced so surely that its expression was obvious. George looked embarrassed. Gregory somehow understood. Josephine blushed. But the expression of such emotion frightened George, so he said, alarmed, “What’s wrong?”

“Not a thing,” Seven said briskly. “Only we have to go back to your house. Quickly. I’ll explain later. Right now we haven’t any time to lose.”