The queerest part of the dream was its background. Great concentric circles of color closed in on the bell-jar, broad bands of green, blue, red, orange, yellow. When first he'd had the dream, Ker-jon thought the circles emanated from the bell-jar, but clearly, this was not so. Rather, the bands of color surrounded it, almost as if they somehow attempted to crush it. The dream Ker-jon did not think they could. He balled his right fist and struck down once, savagely, at the glass. It broke, but the machine hummed on and on. Ker-jon shrank back in horror, with a feeling of helplessness. And that was all. Back to the cube came its flashing lights. Ab'nath-Jawg scratched his balding head. "A very odd dream," he admitted. "Do you know the girl?" "She is Cluny-ann, my betrothed." "A mutant?" demanded the psych-tech. "No. But then, neither am I." "Yet you both look like mutants in the dream. Interesting." Ker-jon frowned. "I didn't come here to show you something interesting; I came to have the dream explained. Last night was the sixth time. The same pattern, no change." "Relax, my friend. These things take time. Strange, we don't understand the radio with which we communicate between sections of our Ark, but histories will tell you that both radio and dream-machine function on the same principle. I don't understand radio; I can only guess, but the dream-machine I know. The recorder is stimulated by electro-magnetic waves from the cerebrus when you dream. The projector takes these vibrations and reproduces the dream itself. A to B, back to A again. Simple." Ker-jon shook his head wearily. "I didn't come for that, either. I know the theory--" "Patience! Will you have patience? I will submit the record to a staff meeting of psych-techs this afternoon, and we'll have an interpretation ready for you tomorrow." "Tomorrow! Tomorrow might be too late." "That's ridiculous, Ker-jon. Even if the dream manifests itself again tonight, so what? Tomorrow is soon enough." Ker-jon shook his head sadly, took his leave. He couldn't tell the psych-tech that tomorrow might be too late because by then his fellow-conspirators would be floundering in rebellion. It all depended on him, of course: he had access to the master controls in the 'ponics room. Few people did, and certainly no mutants. Ker-jon, then; but Ker-jon had a dream which bothered him, which awakened him, sweating and afraid, in the middle of the night.... * * * * * Night-period. Dull blue lights casting eerie shadows in a little-used back room of the library. And six men who wove their plans for a _coup-d'Ark_ when morning came.