"Oh, there were others, certainly. We've a better idea of that, now, after all these years of study. There were and are thousands and thousands--some like me, some much worse--all carrying some degree of extra-sensory power from that original mutant strain, all with the gene-linked psychosis paired up with it every time. And we've seen our civilization struggling against these thousands just to keep its feet. But Jacob Meyer was the first case of the whole, full-blown change in one man that we'd ever found. He was running wild, his mind was completely insane. And the extra-sensory powers he carried were so firmly enmeshed in the insanity that there was no separating the two. Meyer tipped us off. He set us on the trail, and the trail led to his son after he was dead--" "Yes, the son. We have the son." Schiml scowled at the shallow-breathing form on the bed. "We should have had him before--years before." "Of course we should. But the son vanished after his father's death. We never knew why he vanished--until now. But now we know that when we killed his father, we did more than just that. We almost killed our last chance to catch this thing and study it before it was too late. Because when we killed Jeff's father, _we killed Jeff Meyer too_." Schiml scowled. "I don't follow. He's still alive." "Oh, of course he's still alive. But can't you see what happened to him? He was living in his father's mind; he knew everything his father knew--but he didn't understand it. He thought with his father's thoughts, he saw through his father's eyes, because they were mutually and completely telepathic. He felt his father's fear and frustration and bitterness when we trapped him in that office building finally. He lay screaming on the ground on a farm somewhere, but actually he was in his father's mind. "It was a mad mind, a mind rising to the highest screaming heights of mania, as he waited for me to come down and kill him. And Jeff was surrounded with his father's hatred. He saw my face through his father's eyes, and all he could understand was that his daddy was being butchered and that I was butchering him. When the bullet went into his father's brain and split his skull open, Jeff Meyer felt that too. When his father died, Jeff died too--a part of him, that is. They were one mind and part of that one mind was destroyed." Conroe paused, his forehead covered with perspiration. The room was silent except for the hoarse breathing of the man on the table. Conroe's face, as he looked down, was that of a ghost.