Joe said distastefully, "And Sanford's cracked up because he knows he's
going to be killed?"

Brent said earnestly. "Oh, no! He's a good scientist! But he's always
had a brilliant mind. Poor devil, he's never failed at anything in all
his life until now! Now he _has_ failed. He's going to be killed, and he
can't think of any way to stop it. His brains are the only things he's
ever believed in, and now they're no good. He can't accept the idea that
he's stupid, so he has to believe that everything else is. It's a
necessity for him. Haven't you known people who had to think everybody
else was stupid to keep from knowing that they were themselves?"

Joe nodded. He waited.

"Sanford," said Brent earnestly, "simply can't adjust to the discovery
that he's no better than anybody else. That's all. He was a nice guy,
but he's not used to frustration and he can't take it. Therefore he
scorns everything that frustrates him--and everything else, by
necessity. He'll be scornful about getting killed when it happens. But
waiting for it is becoming intolerable to him."

He looked at his watch. He said apologetically, "I'm the crew
psychologist. That's why I speak so firmly. In five minutes we're due to
come out of the Earth's shadow into sunshine again. I'd suggest that you
come to watch. It's good to look at."

He did not wait for an answer. He led the way. And the others followed
in a strange procession. Somehow, automatically, they fell into single
file, and they moved on their magnetic-soled slippers toward a passage