"You mean I—"
He nodded. "Some of the demons make people younger. And you've got a colony of them in you."
swallowed and sat down. "You mean I'm going to get younger and younger, until finally I become a baby? And then—what then, Greek?"
He shrugged. "How do I know? Ask me in another ten years. Look at me, Virgie!" he cried, suddenly loud. "How old do I look to you? Eighteen? Twenty?"
It was the plain truth. He looked no more than that. Seeing him day by day, I wasn't conscious of change; remembering him from when we had gone to school, I thought of him as younger anyway. But he was forty, at the very least, and he didn't look old enough to vote.
He said, "I've had demons inside of me for six years. It seems they're a bit choosy about where they'll live. They don't inhabit the whole body, just parts of it—heart, lungs, liver. Maybe bones. Maybe some of the glands—perhaps that' s why I feel so chipper physically. But not my brain, or not yet. Fortunately."
"Fortunately? But that's wrong, Greek! If your brain grew younger too—"
"Fool! If I had a young brain, I'd forget everything I learned, like unrolling a tape backwards! That's the danger, Virgie, the immediate danger that's pressing me—that's why I needed help! Because if I ever forget, that's the end. Not just for me—for everybody; because there's no one else in the world who knows how to control these things at all. Except me—and you, if I can train you."