"I'm Max," insisted the man with the handsome face and the sharp blue eyes. "Don't you get it? I'm Max Stark. The melting sickness is Mead cells. We caught them from Pat. They adapted us to Minos. They also changed us all into Pat Mead."
The women stared at him, at each other. They shook their heads.
"They don't understand," June said. "I couldn't have if I hadn't seen it happening, Max."
"It's Pat," said Shelia, dazedly stubborn. "He shaved off his hair. It's some kind of joke."
Max shook her shoulders, glaring down at her face. "I'm Max. Max Stark. They all look like me. Do you hear? It's funny, but it's not a joke. Laugh for us, for God's sake!"
"It's too much," said June. "They'll have to see."
She opened the door and let them in. They hurried past her to the tanks, looking at forty-six identical blond faces, beginning to call in frightened voices:
"Jerry!"
"Harry!"
"Lee, where are you, sweetheart—"