"He is. All by himself. The government has taken charge of his abilities, at least for the time being." He snorted. "He's already done things I wouldn't have believed possible in five thousand years of evolution. And yet he is still only twelve years old...." "Only twelve?" Ron squirmed in the straps. "Doctor! This body--" "Yes, Ron. It's his, of course. He grew angry with it; wanted to discard it, like everything else which doesn't fit his conception of the fitness of things. It was awkward--a giant's brain in a child's body. So he developed a solution--an operation, involving the total transference of electrical energy...." The doctor's shaggy head bowed. "He needed human help for that. That's when I was brought in as assistant. And it was my function to select the perfect body as a temporary house for his ego...." "Temporary?" "When this body ages and grows feeble, there will be another. Our friend has outwitted Death itself." The doctor looked up, his jaw firm. "I was instructed to destroy his body when the transference was completed. I couldn't do it, Ron. I managed to spirit you away where you would be cared for. It was almost a year before you came to your senses after the operation. By that time, I didn't know what to do with you. My first thought was the Roverwood Home, where I am a director, where you would be lost among many, many boys' faces...." "But why me, doctor? Why me?" "I had to choose someone, Ron. It was merely a question of who...." Dr. Luther entered, priming the needle. "Ready?" he said. "One moment." The doctor's hand covered Ron's mouth, and he felt the contours of a small round pill against his lips. He realized he was meant to swallow it, and he did. "Ready now," Dr. Minton said. Dr. Luther performed the injection. "Good night, sweet prince," he said gently. * * * * * When Ron awoke, it was under a blanket of darkness and ice. He blinked until his eyes became accustomed to the impoverished light that was glowing behind a glass-paned door. He was on a block of some cold composition, in what must have been the Medical Center's morgue. He reacted with revulsion at the thought, and leaped off. Then he saw that his left hand was holding a sheet of paper. He carried it to the meager light source and read it quickly: _Ron_-- _Don't wait another moment. You'll find a suit of clothes in the closet left. Leave through back stairway marked N. There is money in suit. Use it to leave the city. Do not return if you value your safety and the life of_ _M._ He found the clothes as directed, a neatly-cut suit of boy's clothing, with a small wallet stuffed with bills amounting to three hundred dollars. He dressed rapidly, opened the door, and peered down the hall. It was empty as he ran silently towards the exit marked N.