"Pardon me." Carol hastily wiped her mouth, rose to go and answer it. Cupertino remained where he was, gloomily playing with a flake of toast which had fallen from her plate; the butter on it stained his finger and he licked it away, reflexively, then realized that he was gnawingly hungry; it was time for his own breakfast and he went to the stove to press buttons for himself, in Carol's absence. Presently he had his own meal, bacon and scrambled eggs, toast and hot coffee, before him.

But how can I live? he asked himself. – Gain substance, if this is a delusional world?

I must be eating a genuine meal, he decided. Provided by the hospital or prison; a meal exists and I am actually consuming it -- a room exists, walls and a floor… but not this room. Not these walls nor this floor.

And -- people exist. But not this woman. Not Carol Holt Cupertino. Someone else. An impersonal jailer or attendant. And a doctor. Perhaps, he decided, Dr. Hagopian.

That much is so, Cupertino said to himself. Dr. Hagopian is really my psychiatrist.

Carol returned to the kitchen, reseated herself at her now cold plate. "You talk to him. It's Hagopian."

At once he went to the phone.

On the small vidscreen Dr. Hagopian's image looked taut and drawn. "I see you got there, John. Well? What took place?"

Cupertino said, "Where are we, Hagopian?"

Frowning, the psychiatrist said, "I don't – "

"We're both on Ganymede, aren't we?"

Hagopian said, "I'm in San Jose; you're in Los Angeles."

"I think I know how to test my theory," Cupertino said. "I'm going to discontinue treatment with you; if I'm a prisoner on Ganymede I won't be able to, but if I'm a free citizen on Terra as you maintain -"

"You're on Terra," Hagopian said, "but you're not a free citizen. Because of your attempt on your wife's life you're obliged to accept regular psychotherapy through me. You know that. What did Carol tell you? Could she shed any light on the events of that night?"

"I would say so," Cupertino said. "I learned that she's employed by the parent company of Six-planet Educational Enterprises; that alone makes my trip down here worthwhile. I must have found out about her, that she was employed by Six-planet to ride herd over me."

"P-pardon?" Hagopian blinked.

"A watchdog. To see that I remained loyal; they must have feared I was going to leak details of the planned uprising to the Terran authorities. So they assigned Carol to watch me. I told her the plans and to them that proved I was unreliable. So Carol probably received instructions to kill me; she probably made an attempt and failed, and everyone connected with it was punished by the Terran authorities. Carol escaped because she wasn't officially listed as an employee of Six-planet."

"Wait," Dr. Hagopian said. "It does sound somewhat plausible. But -" He raised his hand. "Mr. Cupertino, the uprising was successful; it's a matter of historic fact. Three years ago Ganymede, Io and Callisto simultaneously threw off Terra and became self-governing, independent moons. Every child in school beyond the third grade knows that; it was the so-called Tri-Lunar War of 2014. You and I have never discussed it but I assumed you were aware of it as -" He gestured. "Well, as any other historic reality."

Turning from the telephone to Carol, John Cupertino said, "Is that so?"

"Of course," Carol said. "Is that part of your delusional system, too, that your little revolt failed?" She smiled. "You worked eight years for it, for one of the major economic cartels masterminding and financing it, and then for some occult reason you choose to ignore its success. I really pity you, Johnny; it's too bad."

"There must be a reason," Cupertino said. "Why I don't know that. Why they decided to keep me from knowing that." Bewildered, he reached out his hand…

His hand, trembling, passed into the vidphone screen and disappeared. He drew it back at once; his hand reappeared. But he had seen it go. He had perceived and understood.

The illusion was good – but not quite good enough. It simply was not perfect; it had its limitations.

"Dr. Hagopian," he said to the miniature image on the vidscreen, "I don't think I'll continue seeing you. As of this morning you're fired. Bill me at my home, and thank you very much." He reached to cut the connection.

"You can't," Hagopian said instantly. "As I said, it's mandatory. You must face it, Cupertino; otherwise you'll have to go up before the court once more, and I know you don't want to do that. Please believe me; it would be bad for you."

Cupertino cut the connection and the screen died.

"He's right, you know," Carol said, from the kitchen.

"He's lying," Cupertino said. And, slowly, walked back to seat himself across from her and resume eating his own breakfast.

When he returned to his own conapt in Berkeley he put in a long distance vidcall to Dr Edgar Green at Six-planet Educational Enterprises on Ganymede. Within half an hour he had his party.

"Do you remember me, Dr. Green?" he asked as he faced the image. To him the rather plump, middle-aged face opposite him was unfamiliar; he did not believe he had ever seen the man before in his life. However, at least one fundamental reality-configuration had borne the test: there was a Dr. Edgar Green in Six-planet's personnel department; Carol had been telling the truth to that extent.

"I have seen you before," Dr. Green said, "but I'm sorry to say that the name does not come to mind, sir."

"John Cupertino. Now of Terra. Formerly of Ganymede. I was involved in a rather sensational piece of litigation slightly over three years ago, somewhat before Ganymede's revolt. I was accused of murdering my wife, Carol. Does that help you, doctor?"

"Hmm," Dr. Green said, frowning. He raised an eyebrow. "Were you acquitted, Mr. Cupertino?"

Hesitating, Cupertino said, "I – currently am under psychiatric care, here in the Bay area of California. If that's any help."

"I presume you're saying that you were declared legally insane. And therefore could not stand trail."

Cupertino, cautiously, nodded.

"It may be," Dr. Green said, "that I talked to you. Very dimly it rings a bell. But I see so many people… were you employed here?"

"Yes," Cupertino said.

"What specifically, did you want from me, Mr. Cupertino? Obviously you want something; you've placed a rather expensive long distance call. I suggest for practical purposes – your pocketbook in particular – you get to the point."

"I'd like you to forward my case history," Cupertino said. "To me, not to my psychiatrist. Can that be arranged?"

"You want it for what purpose, Mr. Cupertino? For securing employment?"

Cupertino, taking a deep breath, said, "No, doctor. So that I can be absolutely certain what psychiatric techniques were used in my case. By you and by members of your medical staff, those working under you. I have reason to believe I underwent major corrective therapy with you. Am I entitled to know that, doctor? It would seem to me that I am." He waited, thinking, I have about one chance in a thousand of prying anything of worth out of this man. But it was worth the try.

" 'Corrective therapy'? You must be confused, Mr. Cupertino; we do only aptitude testing, profile analysis – we don't do therapy, here. Our concern is merely to analyze the job-applicant in order to -"

"Dr. Green," Cupertino said, "were you personally involved in the revolt of three years ago?"

Green shrugged. "We all were. Everyone on Ganymede was filled with patriotism." His voice was bland.

"To protect that revolt," Cupertino said, "would you have implanted a delusional idea in my mind for the purpose of -"

"I'm sorry," Green interrupted. "It's obvious that you're psychotic. There's no point in wasting your money on this call; I'm surprised that they permitted you access to an outside vidline."