Colony of the Unfit

Mars had become the prison planet for Earth's afflicted, for the Leaders had exiled them to a living death beneath its red surface. But the Leaders had erred in their cold-blooded calculations—Mars held a secret beyond their ken.
John Greely looked at Hilda's freshly gloved, artificial hand, as she adjusted her note book to a clip concealed in the palm. The hand fascinated him horribly. Beauty should never be crippled. She sensed his morbid stare, but smiled and rose gracefully, saying, O.K., Boss. Let's go.
She flashed bantering eyes at her editor, with a last pat of her heavily ringed right hand on the rich rolling waves of blonde hair that were always in place. The startling pale beauty of her young face was contrasted by glowing dark brown eyes. Theirs was a comfortable friendship, this of the young editor and his society staff and secretary, but a limited one. He said, gruffly, Let me carry the raditype.
No, you're the dignity, I'm the beast of burden. Come on, hurry! We've only five minutes to reach the district hospital.
John slipped on his transparent all-weather coat and helped Hilda with hers. His reddish brown hair flipped in the March wind as they stepped out from the Daily Home Recorder building. His almost boyishly round cheeks glowed with color. Hilda liked the way his shoulders snapped up as he faced the cold. She liked the way he took her arm, but she must always be casual....
Do you suppose it's just another rumor? she asked, as they stepped into a low, cigar shaped car.
Look like straight dope to me. The Universal News Service is pretty conservative.
How could things have changed so while we were away? It doesn't seem like the same world. Those men in Washington must be mad.
I know, Hilda, but perhaps we are the ones who are out of step. This is the day of directed evolution.
But, John—how horrible, to take all those sick folks and banish them on a Space Tramp!
John drove past the old wooden houses of their small city and then let out speed on the highway before he answered, The Leader says that is what we should do—harden our emotions for the sake of a better race. You and I are in the minority. Those years on the Moon trip have left us out of date.