He looked at the blue-green stain that smeared them all. The color of the mud. His hands sweated on the ladder rung. "What is it?" "Something in the mud. A radioactivity, I think. It seems to turn the carbon in human flesh to a crystalline form. You become a living jewel. It's painless. But it's...." He didn't finish. Beads of sweat stood on MacVickers' forehead. The men standing watching him smiled a little. There was motion behind them. Loris and Pendleton stiffened, and their eyes met. MacVickers said steadily, "I don't understand. The mud's outside." Loris said, with a queer, hurried urgency, "You will. It's almost time for the other shift...." He broke off. Men scattered suddenly, crouching back in a rough circle, grinning with feral nervousness. The room was suddenly quiet. The crouching man had risen. He stood with his huge corded legs wide apart, swaying with the swaying of the floor, his round head sunk between ridges of muscle, studying the Earthman out of pale, flat eyes. Loris put his old, bitter boy's face close to MacVickers. His whisper was almost inaudible. "Birek. He's boss here. He's mad. Don't fight him." II MacVickers' grey-green eyes narrowed. He didn't move. Birek breathed in slow, deep sighs. He was a Venusian, a coal-swamper from his size and pallor and the filthy-white hair clubbed in his neck. He shimmered, very faintly in the dim light. The first jewel-crust was forming across his skin. Knife-sharp and startling across the silence, a round hatch-cover in the floor clashed open. Sweat broke cold on MacVickers. Men began to come out of the hole, just at the edge of his vision. Naked, dirty men with silver collars. They had been talking, cursing, jostling. The first ones saw Birek and stopped, and the silence trickled back down the shaft. It was utterly quiet again, except for the harsh straining of lungs against the hot, wet air and the soft sounds of naked men climbing the ladder. The cords ridged on MacVickers' jaw. He shifted his balance slightly, away from the ladder. He could see the faces thrust forward in the dim light, eager, waiting. Shining eyes, shining teeth, cheek-bones shining with sweat. Frightened, suffering men, watching another man fear and suffer, and being glad about it. Birek moved forward, slowly. His eyes held a pale glitter, like distant ice, and his lips smiled. "I prayed," he said softly. "I was answered. You, new man! Get down on your belly." Loris grinned at Birek, but there was no humor in his eyes. He had drawn a little away from MacVickers. He said carelessly: "There's no time for that now, Birek. It's our shift. They'll be burning us if we don't go." Birek repeated, "Down on your belly," not looking at Loris. A vein began to throb on MacVickers' forehead. He looked slight, almost small against the Venusian's huge bulk. He said quietly, "I'm not looking for trouble. "Then get down." "Sorry," said MacVickers. "Not today."