The other made a try at congenial levity. "You must be pretty hungry after twenty years."
"Really—has it been that long? I tried to keep track at first...."
"We can blast off anytime you say. You're probably pretty anxious to get back."
"Indeed, I am. The changes, in twenty years—must be breathtaking. I wonder if they'll remember me?"
A short time later, the Professor said, "It's amazing. A ship of this size handled by only two men." Then he sat down to a repast laid out by one of the awed spacemen.
But, after nibbling a bit of this, a forkful of that, he found that satisfaction lay in the anticipation more so than in the eating.
"We'll look around and see what we can find in the way of clothing for you, Professor," one of the spacemen said. Then the man's bemusement returned. His eyes traveled over the magnificent physique before him. The perfect giant of a man; the great, Apollo-like head with the calm, clear eyes; the expression of complete contentment and serenity.
The space man said, "Professor—to what do you attribute the changes in your body. What is there about this planet—?"
"I really don't know." Professor Pettibone looked down his torso with an impersonal eye. "I think the greenish skin pigmentation is a result of mineral-heavy vapors that occur during certain seasons. The growth. As to my body—I really don't know."
But the two spacemen, though they didn't refer to it—were not concerned with the body so much as the aura of completeness, the radiation of contentment which came from somewhere within.