Walsh grinned a little. "Always the wit," he said drily. And then the smile faded from his lips and his eyes took on a hard lustre. "I'm going to kill you, you know." He said it as if he were saying, "I think it'll rain tomorrow."
Joe almost clapped his hands together with glee. He was really enjoying this. Another of those funny Terran games.
"You gave me a powerful handicap to overcome," Walsh said. "I suppose I should thank you, really."
"You're welcome," I said.
"It wasn't easy living down the disgrace you caused me."
"It was your own damn fault," I said. "You knew what you were doing when you decided to cork off."
Beside me, Joe chuckled a little, enjoying the game immensely.
"You didn't have to report me," Walsh said.
"No? Maybe I should have forgotten all about it? Maybe I should have nudged you and served you orange juice? So you could do it again sometime and maybe blow up the whole damn Academy!"
Walsh was silent for a long time. When he spoke his voice was barely audible. The heat was oppressive, as if it were concentrated on this little spot in the jungle, focusing all its penetration on a small, unimportant drama.