I could hear Joe breathing beside me.
"I'm on my way out," Walsh rasped. "Finished, do you understand?"
"Good," I said. And I meant it.
"This Mars thing. A terrible fix. Terrible."
Beside me, a slight frown crossed Joe's face. Apparently he couldn't understand the seriousness of our voices. What had happened to the game, the fun?
"You brought the Mars business on yourself," I told Walsh. "There was never any trouble before you took command."
"The natives," he practically shouted. "They ... they...."
Joe caught his breath sharply, and I wondered what Walsh was going to say about the natives. Apparently he'd realized that Joe was a native. Or maybe Joe's knife had something to do with it.
"What about the natives?" I asked.
"Nothing," Walsh said. "Nothing." He was silent for a while.