They entered the garden and paused. Earl dropped his two suitcases beside the path. He took Nadine's hand in his. They went on toward the portal that led into the Dome. They walked down the silent circling corridor under the network of catwalks and ladders, past panels of instruments whose needles fluctuated with life, to the red squares over which hung the glass cages, ready to be lowered. Would they be lowered, separating them from each other while they faced the Cyberene? The glittering lenses of the two video cameras moved as they went toward them, keeping them in line. "All of you occupy one square," the Cyberene's voice instructed. They obeyed without sign of emotion. The glass cage was lowered over them. Its front wall became a window through which they were looking at the familiar Dome. But it was a structure around which weeds grew in thick profusion, with its acres of exposed surface pitted by time, untended. "What happened?" Earl said. "Do you mean to say that there is still something to be done?" "There is nothing to be done," the Cyberene said dully. "I have checked in that other time stream. There is still positive record that the Brain was not activated." "Maybe it takes time for the momentum of events to force the change," Earl suggested. Didn't the Cyberene suspect yet? Didn't it _realize_? "No," the Cyberene said dully. "I have failed. More, I have re-checked the mathematical basis of the theoretical picture, and think I know where I erred. The cause of the split that created two Earths, travelling close together down through so many centuries, could not have been something occurring in the original time stream. It took something applied from the fifth dimension--and in the neighborhood of the split that could only have been one thing, _the force with which the time tube hooked onto 1980_. It had to be that. The accident. I didn't take it into account." "That's what I've thought all along," Earl said quietly. "At that instant," the Cyberene went on as though it hadn't heard him, "the split occurred. You became two Earl Fryes, to mention one facet of the split. One of you went its way, making an accurate report of its experiments, creating me eventually--" While the Cyberene talked, the desolate scene vanished, and the glass cage lifted upward slowly, as though it were a curtain, lifting for the final scene. The twin lenses of the Cyberene's video eyes were fixed on them, alive with an intelligence that was inhuman. "No," Earl said. "_That_ one of me discovered the identity of the nerve substance, but suppressed it." "That couldn't be," the Cyberene objected. "Nothing appeared in its life to cause it to do that. You were the one who had the data to make such a decision." "But I reported accurately," Earl said. _Even yet it didn't see!_ "I know," the Cyberene said, "but it can't be, because then that electrostatic speaker would be--" It stopped. "Deep inside of you," Earl continued. "Waiting only for--"