 What effect does Stage Two have on Herrell?
Whatever it was, he had no business in it; for five minutes before he had been spaceborne, on the Long Jump from Earth to the thriving colonies circling Betelgeuse Nine. Someone was watching Herrell McCray, with the clinical fascination of a biochemist observing the wigglings of paramecia in a new antibiotic—and with the prayerful emotions of a starving, shipwrecked, sailor, watching the inward bobbing drift of a wave-born cask that may contain food. Hatcher, like McCray, was an adventurous soul, young, able, well-learned in the technical sciences of his culture. Indeed, they worked as well a yard or a quarter-mile away as they did when, rarely, they rested in the crevices they had been formed from in his "skin." Hatcher's principal task at this moment was to run the "probe team" which had McCray under observation, and he was more than a little excited. "Paranormal powers," muttered Hatcher's second in command, and the others mumbled agreement. His method of doing so was to put his own members in physical contact with the various objects in the enclosure. After observing him do this for a time we concluded he might be unable to see and so we illuminated his field of vision for him. However, he then reverted to physical-contact, manipulating certain appurtenances of an artificial skin we had provided for him. "He then began to vibrate the atmosphere by means of resonating organs in his breathing passage. Hatcher swung closer, his thick skin quivering slightly; he would have gestured if he had brought members with him to gesture with. We've made the place homey for him—" actually, what he said was more like, we've warmed the biophysical nuances of his enclosure —"and tried to guess his needs; and we're frightening him half to death. His chemistry is not ours, his processes of thought are not ours, his entire organism is closer to the inanimate rocks of a sea-bottom than to ourselves." The council room was like a tableau in a museum until the councillor spoke again, each council member poised over his locus-point, his members drifting about him. It was just like the council to put the screws on; they had a reputation for demanding results at any cost—even at the cost of destroying the only thing you had that would make results possible. Not even Hatcher had quite got over the revolting physical differences between the Earthman and his own people.
 It distresses him to the point of breaking out of the cell.
 It distresses him to the point of leaving the cell in order to find the woman.  It distresses him to the point of risking what wearing the space suit will do to him.  It distresses him to the point of breaking out of the cell.  The woman’s distress inspires him to break out of the cell.