"A man of my calibre," he said then, his face grim. "Dealing with savages." He caught himself again and threw a hasty glance at Joe. The perplexed frown had grown heavier on Joe's face. He looked at the colonel in puzzlement.
Walsh turned from Joe and raised the stun gun. I wondered if he had yet realized that Joe was one of a million Joes scattered all over this planet, that Joe was all the natives on Venus. That Joe was all the natives everywhere throughout the galaxy. I looked at Walsh's eyes. He was a sick man, alone with his thoughts in the middle of a stinking jungle.
"I'm on my way out, Major," he said, "but you won't get a chance to succeed where I've failed. No. Oh no. I'll see to that."
"And you had to come all the way to Venus to do it?"
"Don't joke," Walsh snapped. "Don't joke, Major. It's not funny. It's not funny at all."
"It's pretty sad, I'd say."
"You can't afford to say anything," Walsh remarked drily. "You're going to be dead in a very few minutes."
Joe's eyes widened, and I saw indecision cross his features as he tried to understand what had happened to the game.
"What'll they say back on Earth when they hear about this?" I asked.