He shuddered, trying to calm himself. Hair and nails. Radiation. Of course: radiation did that, killed both the hair and the nails. He examined his hands.

The nails were completely gone all right. There was no trace of them. He turned his hands over and over, studying the fingers. The ends were smooth and tapered. He fought down rising panic, moving unsteadily away from the mirror.

A thought struck him. Was he the only one? What about Silvia!

He put his jacket on again. Without nails his fingers were strangely deft and agile. Could there be anything else? They had to be prepared. He looked into the mirror again.

And sickened.

His head – What was happening? He clasped his hands to his temples. His head. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. He stared, his eyes wide. He was almost completely hairless, now, his shoulders and jacket covered with brown hair that had fallen. His scalp gleamed, bald and pink, a shocking pink. But there was something more.

His head had expanded. It was swelling into a full sphere. And his ears were shriveling, his ears and his nose. His nostrils were becoming thin and transparent even as he watched. He was changing, altering, faster and faster.

He reached a shaking hand into his mouth. His teeth were loose in the gums. He pulled. Several teeth came out easily. What was happening? Was he dying? Was he the only one? What about the others?

Eller turned and hurried out of the room. His breath came painfully, harshly. His chest seemed constricted, his ribs choking the air out of him. His heart labored, beating fitfully. And his legs were weak. He stopped, catching hold of the door. He started into the lift. Suddenly there was a sound, a deep bull roar. Blake’s voice, raised in terror and agony.

“That answers that,” Eller thought grimly, as the lift rose around him. “At least I’m not the only one!”

Harrison Blake gaped at him in horror. Eller had to smile. Blake, hairless, his skull pink and glistening, was not a very impressive sight. His cranium, too, had enlarged, and his nails were gone. He was standing by the control table, staring first at Eller and then down at his own body. His uniform was too large for his dwindling body. It bagged around him in slack folds.

“Well?” Eller said. “We’ll be lucky if we get out of this. Space radiations can do strange things to a man’s body. It was a bad day for us when we landed on that—”

“Eller,” Blake whispered. “What’ll we do? We can’t live this way, not like this! Look at us.”

“I know.” Eller set his lips. He was having trouble speaking now that he was almost toothless. He felt suddenly like a baby. Toothless, without hair, a body growing more helpless each moment. Where would it end?

“We can’t go back like this,” Blake said. “We can’t go back to Terra, not looking this way. Good heavens, Eller! We’re freaks. Mutants. They’ll—they’ll lock us up like animals in cages. People will—”

“Shut up.” Eller crossed to him. “We’re lucky to be alive at all. Sit down.” He drew a chair out. “I think we better get off our legs.”

They both sat down. Blake took a deep, shuddering breath. He rubbed his smooth forehead, again and again.

“It’s not us I’m worried about,” Eller said, after a time. “It’s Silvia. She’ll suffer the most from this. I’m trying to decide whether we should go down at all. But if we don’t, she may—”

There was a buzz. The vidscreen came to life, showing the white-walled laboratory, the retorts and rows of testing equipment, lined up neatly against the walls.

“Cris?” Silvia’s voice came, thin and edged with horror. She was not visible on the screen. Apparently she was standing off to one side.

“Yes.” Eller went to the screen. “How are you?”

“How am I?” A thrill of hysteria ran through the girl’s voice. “Cris, has it hit you, too? I’m afraid to look.” There was a pause. “It has, hasn’t it? I can see you—but don’t try to look at me. I don’t want you to see me again. It’s—it’s horrible. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. Blake says he won’t go back to Terra this way.”

“No! We can’t go back! We can’t!”

There was silence. “We’ll decide later,” Eller said finally. “We don’t have to settle it now. These changes in our systems are due to radiation, so they may be only temporary. They may go away, in time. Or surgery may help. Anyhow, let’s not worry about it now.”

“Not worry? No, of course I won’t worry. How could I worry about a little thing like this! Cris, don’t you understand? We’re monsters, hairless monsters. No hair, no teeth, no nails. Our heads—”

“I understand.” Eller set his jaw. “You stay down in the lab. Blake and I will discuss it with you on the vidscreen. You won’t have to show yourself to us.”

Silvia took a deep breath. “Anything you say. You’re still captain.”

Eller turned away from the screen. “Well, Blake, do you feel well enough to talk?”

The great-domed figure in the corner nodded, the immense hairless skull moving slightly. Blake’s once great body had shrunk, caved in. The arms were pipe stems, the chest hollow and sickly. Restlessly, the soft fingers tapped against the table. Eller studied him.

“What is it?” Blake said.

“Nothing. I was just looking at you.”

“You’re not very pleasant looking, either.”

“I realize that.” Eller sat down across from him. His heart was pounding, his breath coming shallowly. “Poor Silv! It’s worse for her than it is for us.”

Blake nodded. “Poor Silv. Poor all of us. She’s right, Eller. We’re monsters.” His fragile lips curled. “They’ll destroy us back on Terra. Or lock us up. Maybe a quick death would be better. Monsters, freaks, hairless hydrocephalics.”

“Not hydrocephalics,” Eller said. “Your brain isn’t impaired. That’s one thing to be thankful for. We can still think. We still have our minds.”

“In any case we know why there isn’t life on the asteroid,” Blake said ironically. “We’re a success as a scouting party. We got the information. Radiation, lethal radiation, destructive to organic tissue. Produces mutation and alteration in cell growth as well as changes in the structure and function of the organs.”

Eller studied him thoughtfully. “That’s quite learned talk for you, Blake.”

“It’s an accurate description.” Blake looked up. “Let’s be realistic. We’re monstrous cancers blasted by hard radiation. Let’s face it. We’re not men, not human beings any longer. We’re—”

“We’re what?”

“I don’t know.” Blake lapsed into silence.

“It’s strange,” Eller said. He studied his fingers moodily. He experimented, moving his fingers about. Long, long and thin. He traced the surface of the table with them. The skin was sensitive. He could feel every indentation of the table, every line and mark.

“What are you doing?” Blake said.

“I’m curious.” Eller held his fingers close to his eyes, studying them. His eyesight was dimming. Everything was vague and blurred. Across from him Blake was staring down. Blake’s eyes had begun to recede, sinking slowly into the great hairless skull. It came to Eller all at once that they were losing their sight. They were going slowly blind. Panic seized him.

“Blake!” he said. “We’re going blind. There’s a progressive deterioration of our eyes, vision and muscles.”

“I know,” Blake said.

“But why? We’re actually losing the eyes themselves! They’re going away, drying up. Why?”

“Atrophied,” Blake murmured.

“Perhaps.” Eller brought out a log book from the table, and a writing beam. He traced a few notes on the foil. Sight diminishing, vision failing rapidly. But fingers much more sensitive. Skin response unusual. Compensation?

“What do you think of this?” he said. “We’re losing some functions, gaining others.”

“In our hands?” Blake studied his own hands. “The loss of the nails makes it possible to use the fingers in new ways.” He rubbed his fingers against the cloth of his uniform. “I can feel individual fibers which was impossible before.”