"Other men are old, yes. Those who survived the two successive plagues, were unusually durable." Camba finished and pushed back his plate. "There is no crime in being long-lived, surely. But he has changed his name five times!" "That proves nothing. Whatever his reasons for changing his name, it doesn't prove that he is Syndrome Johnny any more than it proves he is the cow that jumped over the moon. Syndrome Johnny is a myth, a figment of mob delirium." * * * * * As he said it, he knew it was not true. A Federation investigator would not be on a wild goose chase. The plates were taken away and cups of steaming black coffee put between them. He would have to warn Johnny. It was strange how well you could know a man as well as he knew Johnny, firmly enough to believe that, despite evidence, everything the man did was right. "Why must it be a myth?" Camba asked softly. "It's ridiculous!" Alcala protested. "Why would any man--" His voice cut off as unrelated facts fell into a pattern. He sat for a moment, thinking intensely, seeing the century of plague as something he had never dreamed.... A price. Not too high a price in the long run, considering what was purchased. Of course, the great change over into silicon catalysis would be a shock and require adjustment and, of course, the change must be made in several easy stages--and those who could not adjust would die. "Go on, Doctor," Camba urged softly. "'_Why_ would any man--'" He tried to find a way of explaining which would not seem to have any relationship to John Delgados. "It has been recently discovered"--but he did not say _how_ recently--"that the disease of Syndrome Plague was not a disease. It is an improvement." He had spoken clumsily. "An improvement on life?" Camba laughed and nodded, but there were bitterness and anger burning behind the small man's smile. "People can be improved to death by the millions. Yes, yes, go on, Senor. You fascinate me." "We are stronger," Alcala told him. "We are changed chemically. The race has been improved!" "Come, Doctor Alcala," Camba said with a sneering merriment, "the Syndrome Plagues have come and they have gone. Where is this change?" Alcala tried to express it clearly. "We are stronger. Potentially, we are tremendously stronger. But we of this generation are still weak and ill, as our parents were, from the shock of the change. And we need silicone feeding; we have not adjusted yet. Our illness masks our strength." He thought of what that strength would be!