George’s eyes snapped open. “That’s an odd thing to say. Miracles are nature unimpeded, huh? Bullshit! Something’s going on beside just the healing of gums. Come on now, do you think we’ve been hypnotized?”

“Hypnotized?” Seven asked, astounded. Where could George ever get an idea like that?

“Or maybe we’re hallucinating?” George went on lamely. “Nope. Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hooked. I’ve got to find out what happened. Some kind of gimmick’s got to be involved.”

As they talked, George and Seven locked the office and left the building and headed for the parking lot. The June afternoon was warm, the day a soft green-gray. Every time he visited the center, George passed the playground, but this afternoon, talking with Seven, he paused and sat down on a swing. Seven sat on the swing beside him. There were no children around this time of the day, and only a few patients strolled the grounds. The sounds of traffic from the nearby main street were partially muted by all the shrubbery, and Seven and George sat, not speaking for a moment.

Then George said, “You’re an odd one. You know? You’re taking all this damn calmly.”

“What is, is,” Seven said lightly.

“Maybe it’s because you’re younger. I don’t know, but at least when I went to dental school, they taught us that some things were absolutely irreversible; certain conditions. Hell, I’m chairman of the cancer drive.”

“The drive for cancer?” Seven said incredulously, “Who wants that?”

“It’s no time for jokes,” George replied. “If one cure like that can happen, it shafts the entire medical profession. Instead of drives for dollars for technological advances, we’d have to … hell, I don’t know, reexamine our ideas about the entire body, or find healers, for Christ’s sake, or….”

“Well, you know where one healer is,” Seven said innocently.

“Yeah, in a nut house, where I’d say he belonged—if I hadn’t seen that kid’s gums for myself.” Suddenly George sat bolt upright. “I’ve got it,” he shouted. “There are two kids. Yes, that’s it! They’re twins, one with good gums and one with lousy ones. It’s a goddamned con game!

“Twins,” he gasped, laughing so heartily that he was half bent over, sitting in the swing.

Seven just stared.

“Oh, Christ! How could I have fallen for that?” George shouted, between laughs. “That little bugger’s out to get me just because I couldn’t fix his damn gums. I mean, he thinks we’re all shitheads, members of the establishment, and that we couldn’t care less; we get paid anyhow.”