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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?”