“I don’t need just a good psychosomatics man,” Chris said. “We’ve got the problem under control from the point of view of our people’s health. Nothing to it. Every damn contract calls for one month Earth rest leave after each working quarter. Three months up, one down. Keeps ’em healthy as hell. Any good psychosomatics man will tell you that’s the only answer, short of an all-out training program that adds up to something like studying yoga, f’krissake!” He dipped into heaven-scented pea soup, and broke crisp bread. “Phil, what I’m after is someone who’ll look at it from the point of view of a new environment that men damn well _can_ live in. _I_ do. Have, more than ten years now. Some of the others could, if the contracts let ’em. I don’t know how you feel about this. Maybe you’ll take the same stand the others do: we’re asking for something ‘unnatural,’ and we have to pay the price. I just had a hunch you might--feel differently.” “Because of Johnny?” the doctor asked quietly. “All right.” Chris let himself look at the other man for the first time since he’d started his speech. “Because of Johnny. But I mean it a couple of ways.” “Relax, will you?” Phil looked as if he could take some of his own advice, too. “Who’s kiddin’ whom? _I_ know I feel guilty about Johnny. So what difference does it make if _you_ know it too? But that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw up a good practice here and go tromping off to Outer Space to offer myself up in his place.” Chris finished the pea soup, looked at the other man, and laughed. “Damn it, I’ve got to get down more often,” he said, and laughed again. “I keep saying that. When I’m down. Now look: first of all, I said it was a _couple_ of ways ‘because of Johnny.’ Sure, that was one of them. The other is, you _did_ get _some_where with him. Or come to think of it, that’s just _one_ other part of it. You got through to him; nobody else could. That means, the way I see it, you maybe--speak our language some? You don’t start with the idea that being off of Earth is ‘unnatural.’ Am I wrong?” “I don’t think so,” Kutler said slowly. “Hadn’t really looked at it that way. Maybe so--What’s the other bit?” “Obvious. Just that you’ve had some experience with our kind of nut.” “Oh _now_! Just because two guys have been to the same place, and both come back sick doesn’t mean--” He stopped short. Chris grinned. “Yeah. I see what you mean,” the doctor went on, slowly. “Nine times out of ten, it does mean just that. Only,” he finished, “Johnny didn’t get sick on the Moon.” “Well, frankly, I didn’t mean it that strongly anyhow. You’re way ahead of me, as usual. But--let’s just say, if I’ve got a sick horse, and I can’t get a vet--because nobody’s invented veterinary medicine yet--I’m damn well going to try to find a doctor who’s at least _worked_ on a horse before.” “Even if it died?” “He’s not dead,” Chris said drily. “Far from it. You seen that layout up there?” “Not since it was finished.”