ou know, I wish I had been right. I spent yesterday with Greco. He's married now and has a fine young son. They made an attractive family picture, the two healthy-looking adults, strong-featured, in the prime of life, and the wee toddler between them.
The only thing is—Greco's the toddler.
He doesn't call himself Greco any more. Would you, the way the world is now? He has plenty of money stashed away—I do too, of course—not that money means very much these days. His brain hasn't been affected, just his body. He was lucky, I guess. Some of the demons hit the brain in some of their victims and—
Well, it's pretty bad.
Greco got the answer after a while. Both types of demons were loose in the world, and both, by and by, were in every individual.
But they didn't kill each other off.
One simply grew more rapidly, took over control, until it ran out of the kind of molecules it needed. Then the other took over.
Then the first.
Then the other again....