"Yes, I'll tell you," Carl said ruthlessly. "It was because with all the build-up these would-be-gods gave you about this immortality gimmick, they were sick to death of it. They were sick of the loneliness, sick of the rain, sick of the color of purple. In short, they were sick of this foul planet and were willing to trade it in for whatever the earth had to offer them! That's where Dr. Hamlin came in."
Doggedly, Carl spun on Edgerton, trying to draw the tatters of his shirt back across his back.
"Who's lungs were you going to take, Mr. Edgerton? Mine, or Stewart Ferguson's?"
He was aware of Diane pulling on his arm. He turned to the two men in the mud-splattered jumpers. "We're leaving for Terra in an hour," he said crisply. "Are you coming, or staying?"
Ferguson and Hamlin stared at each other.
"Make up your mind!"
Abruptly, Dr. Hamlin walked over to where Diane was standing. "I'm an old man," he said. "All I have back on Earth is twenty years at the most. Stay with me, Diane?"
Breathlessly, Carl watched the girl—watched her shake her head, slowly. "How about you?" he asked Ferguson.
For a long moment, Ferguson appeared undecided. Then he looked at Dr. Hamlin. "I'm in trouble back home," he mumbled. "Bad trouble. They're going to find out about it any day, if they haven't found out already.... I—I'd better stay."