"The intensity with which you were attracted," Fred broke in. "I didn't
know it at the time, but it was the first clue. Women were bound to be
more affected."
Charlesworth fingered his jaw again. "Yeah? _I_ thought it was pretty
bad."
"You got the full treatment, John, but only for a few minutes.
Nevertheless, woman's nature is far more intimately bound up in the
life force than man's. What you felt for a short time might have been
equivalent to what the girls felt all the time."
The big man shook his head. "Couldn't take it. I'd break...." His voice
trailed away, and he looked guilty at reminding them.
"We have to face it," Beth said.
"How is he?" Jo asked.
"Lodgesen hasn't changed," the captain said gruffly. "He hasn't
changed all the time we were in hyper. Just lies in his bunk, crying to
go home to mama. It's spooky."
"We'll be home in half a day," Joe said hopefully. "Maybe the
psychiatrists can help." Beth and John nodded agreement.
"Possibly, but I don't think so," Fred said. Then a stray wisp of
thought brushed his memory--"The eternal pessimist"--made him shudder
and hurry on. "From what I remember of psych, he's withdrawn past
the point of return. Like so many guys in the physical sciences, he
had a streak of insecurity. That's why the categorizing outlook; all
data must be fitted into a neat plan. He ran into a bit of data that
wouldn't fit; worse, the data turned on him, gave him a sense of
security he'd never known. When I jerked us away from the planet, the
shock to him must have been similar to the birth trauma. He slipped
away from reality. Chances are he'll never come back."
"And the trouble with you guys in the social sciences is too much
theorizing on insufficient data!" It was Lodgesen, pale, needing a
shave, but otherwise normal.