"I presume he has standing orders," Defoe said. "We need not concern ourselves with that, need we?" "Well--" The doctor looked unhappy. "Now, Zorchi," Defoe went on, dismissing Lawton utterly, "do you enjoy life?" "I despise it!" Zorchi spat to emphasize how much. "But you cling to it. You would not like to die, would you? Worse still, you would not care to live indefinitely with carcinoma eating you piece by piece." Zorchi just glowered suspiciously. "Perhaps we can cure you, however," Defoe went on reflectively. "It is by no means certain. I don't want to raise false hopes. But there is the possibility--" "The possibility that you will cure me of collecting on my policies, eh?" Zorchi demanded belligerently. "You are crazy, Defoe. Never!" Defoe looked at him for a thoughtful moment. To Lawton, he said: "Have you this man's claim warranty? It has the usual application for medical treatment, I presume?" He nodded as Lawton confirmed it. "You see, Mr. Zorchi? As a matter of routine, no claim can be paid unless the policyholder submits to our medical care. You signed the usual form, so--" "One moment! You people never put me through this before! Did you change the contract on me?" "No, Signore Zorchi. The same contract, but this time we will enforce it. I think I should warn you of something, though." He riffled through the papers and found a photographic print to show Zorchi. "This picture isn't you, Signore. It is a picture of a newt. The doctor will explain it to you." The print was an eight-by-ten glossy of a little lizard with something odd about its legs. Puzzled, Zorchi held it as though the lizard were alive and venomous. But as the doctor spoke, the puzzlement turned into horror and fury. "What Mr. Defoe means," said Lawton, "is that totipotency--that is, the ability to regenerate lost tissues, as you can, even when entire members are involved--is full of unanswered riddles. We have found, for instance, that X-ray treatment on your leg helps a new leg to form rapidly, just as it does on the leg of the salamanders. The radiation appears to stimulate the formation of the blastema, which--well, never mind the technical part. It speeds things up." His eyes gleamed with scientific interest. "But we tried the experiment of irradiating limbs that had not been severed. It worked the same way, oddly enough. New limbs were generated _even though the old ones were still there_. That's why the salamander in the photo has four hands on one of its limbs--nine legs altogether, counting that half-formed one just beside the tail. Curious-looking little beast, isn't it?" * * * * * Defoe cleared his throat. "I only mention, Signore, that the standard treatment for malignancy is X-radiation." Zorchi's eyes flamed--rage battling it out with terror. He said shrilly, "But you can't make a laboratory animal out of me! I'm a policyholder!" "Nature did it, Signore Zorchi, not us," Defoe said.