"We _have_ to give up. The demons are loose in the Earth, Virgie! Those people in the headlines--they'll die of young age. So will others--even plants and animals, and bacteria, as the demons adapt to them. And then--why not? The air. The rocks, the ocean, even the Earth itself. Remember, the entropy of the Universe is supposed to tend to a maximum not only as a whole, but in each of its parts taken in isolation. The Earth's evolution--reversed. Spottily, and maybe that's worse, because some parts will evolve forward and others reverse, as is happening in my own body. Heaven help the world, Old Virgie! And not just the Earth, because what can stop them from spreading? To the Moon, the other planets--out of the Solar System, for that matter; to the other galaxies, even. Why not? And then--" "_GRECO._" An enormous tinny voice, more than human, filled the air. It came from outside. I jumped a foot. It sounded like the voice of a demon; then I got a grip on myself and understood. It was a loudspeaker, and it came from outside. "_GRECO. WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE. COME ON OUT!_" I had a stabbing sensation of familiarity. "The police!" I cried. "Greco, it's the police!" He looked at me wearily and shook his head. "No. More likely the F.B.I." * * * * * Well, that was it. I got out--I didn't wait for permission from the Greek. I stopped at the door, and three searchlight beams hit me right in the eye. There were cars all around the laboratory, but I couldn't see them, not after those lights went on. I froze, stiff; wanting to make sure they understood (a) that I wasn't Greco and (b) that I didn't have a gun. They understood, all right. But they let me out. They put me in one of the cars, with a slim gray-eyed young man in a snap-brimmed hat sitting politely and alertly beside me, and they let me watch; and what happened after that wasn't funny at all. Greco didn't come out They shouted at him over the loudspeaker and eventually he answered--his voice little and calm, coming out of nowhere, and all he said was, "Go away. I won't come out. I warn you, don't try to force your way in." But he knew they wouldn't listen, of course. They didn't. They tried force. And he met it in novel ways with force of his own. The door had locked itself behind me; they got a fence post for a battering ram, and the post burst into flame. They found an L-beam from an old bed frame and tried that, and they were sorry they had done it; the thing melted in the middle, splattering them with hot drops of steel. The polite, alert young man beside me said, not so polite any more, "What's he doing, you? What sort of fancy tricks has he got in there?" "Demons," I said crazily, and _that_ was a mistake, but what else was I to do? Try to explain Maxwell's equations to a Fed?