of panic. He hesitantly reached
out to touch the immobile figure of Sam Atkins, who sat with closed eyes
and imperceptible breath. Fenwick sensed disaster. He arrested the
motion of Ellerbee's hand.

"I think you could kill them both," he whispered. The life force of one
man, divided between two--it was not sufficient to cope with unexpected
shocks to either, now.

Ellerbee desisted. "I've never seen anything like this before," he said.
"I don't know what Sam's doing--I don't know how he's doing it--"

Fenwick looked sharply at Ellerbee. Ellerbee had discovered the
crystals, so he and Sam said. Yet Sam was able to do things with them
that Ellerbee could not conceive. Fenwick wondered just who was
responsible for the crystals. And he resolved that some day, when and if
Baker pulled out of this, he would learn something more about Sam
Atkins.

Time moved beyond midnight and into the early morning hours of the day,
but this meant nothing to William Baker. He was in the midst of
eternity. Because the old pattern was there, and the ancient memories
were clear, his reconstruction moved at a pace that was limited only by
the materials available. When these grew scarce, Sam Atkins showed him
how to break down and utilize other structures that could be rebuilt
leisurely at a later time. There was remembered joy in the building and,
once started, Baker gave only idle wonder to the question of whether
this was more desirable than death. He did not know. This seemed the
right thing to do.

In the presence of Sam Atkins everything he was doing seemed right, and
a lifetime of doubts, and errors, and fears seemed distant and vague.

But Sam said suddenly, "It is almost finished. Just a little farther and
you'll have to go the rest of the way alone."

Terror struck at Baker. He had reached a point where he was absolutely
sure he could _not_ go on alone without Sam's supporting presence. "You
tricked me!" Baker cried. "You tricked me! You didn't tell me I would
have to be reborn alone!"

"Doesn't every man?" said Sam. "Is there any way to be born, except
alone?"

Slowly, the world closed in about Baker.

Light. Sounds.

Wet. Cold.

The impact of a million idiot minds. The coursing of cosmic-ray
particles. The wrenching of Earth's magnetic and gravitational fields.
Old and sluggish memories were renewed, memories meant to be buried for
all of his life.

Baker felt as if he were suddenly running down a dark and immense