"That is why you were brought here--to repopulate a world, to take up where we left off, to correct an error made two million years after your time. "We have taken the living from the remote past and used them to bridge the chasm of death. Yours to carry on." There was silence. Men moved awkwardly, staring at each other, at that sphere, at Lee Garth. The girls, somehow, seemed to understand. It was Scoop Martin who came out of the crowd, stood apologetically before Lee Garth. "Mr. Garth, sir, is that right, what we heard?" Scoop's wolfish face was a mask of fear, doubt, and hesitation. Garth swallowed. He nodded. "But--" the reporter gestured toward the globe. "How can men be in that?" Garth answered slowly. "A lot can be learned in two million years. It is not impossible. You, the you that really exists, your mind, your consciousness, is a movement of thought within a suitable medium. Evolution provided a chemical medium, a mass of tissue, your brain. That is all you really are, the movement of current within your brain cells.... The men who came two million years after us found a better medium than the brain. Upon that better medium, they impressed their thinking." Garth hesitated, and when he spoke, it was not to Martin, but to someone else. "Is that not right?" There was a rustle in the air. A voice whispered. "In essence, that is correct. It was not so simple as that, but you have the underlying thought. In the year that we have yet to live, we will teach you the process. Perhaps you may discover our error. Perhaps you will want to use other methods. We cannot advise on that point. The only thing that matters is that the race must go on to whatever is its ultimate destiny." Sighing with the pulse of failing energy, the whisper ceased. The group stirred again, moving restlessly. "I'm sorry," Garth spoke, "that I did not ask your permission to bring you here. But I had no choice. If I had asked for volunteers to repopulate the world of two million years from our time, you would have concluded I was crazy. So I had to bring you here without consulting you." They didn't seem to hear him. They stirred uneasily. All malice was gone out of them. Only unease and trembling wonder were left. Martin twisted. He spoke. "We have to rebuild--to repopulate--a world. That's why we're here?" Garth swallowed, fighting the lump in his throat. He nodded. "It seems hard to understand, sir," Martin said. "But what can I do to help?" The lump in Garth's throat rose so high he could not swallow it. A bulky figure in uniform came out of the crowd. "What can I do, Mr. Garth, to help?" There was a confused babble of voice. "What can we do, Mr. Garth, to help?" In that babble he heard only one voice, that of the girl at his side, asking what she might do. "You might remember," he answered, "that--that my name is Lee."