"As his dependent, Rena, you applied for subsistence benefits on his Blue Blanket policies, as well as war-risk benefits under the Blue Bolt. Both applications were refused; the Blue Blanket because your father is technically not hospitalized; the Blue Bolt, as well as all your other personal policies, was cancelled, because of--" I stuttered over it--"of activities against the best interest of the Company. Specifically, giving aid and comfort to a known troublemaker whose name is given here as Slovetski." I showed her the cancellation sheet I had stolen from the files. She shrugged. "This much I know, Tom," she said. "Why?" I demanded. "This man is believed to have been instrumental in inciting the war with Sicily!" She flared, "Tom, that's a lie! Slovetski is an old friend of my father's--they studied together in Berlin, many years ago. He is utterly, completely against war--any war!" I hesitated. "Well, let's put that aside. But you realize that, in view of this, the Company can maintain--quite properly in a technical sense--that you contributed to the war, and therefore you can't collect Blue Bolt compensation for a war you helped bring about. You were warned, you see. You can't even say that you didn't know what you were doing." "Tom," Rena's voice was infinitely patient and sad. "I knew what I was doing." "In that case, Rena, you have to admit that it seems fair enough. Still, perhaps we can get something for you--even if only a refund of your premiums. The Company doesn't always follow the letter of the law, there are always exceptions, so--" Her expression stopped me. She was smiling, but it was the tortured smile of Prometheus contemplating the cosmic jest that was ripping out his vitals. * * * * * I asked uncertainly, "Don't you believe me?" "Believe you, Tom? Indeed I do." She laughed out loud that time. "After what happened to my father, I assure you, Tom, I am certain that the Company doesn't always follow the law." I shook my head quickly. "No, you don't understand. I--" "I understand quite well." She studied me for a moment, then patted my hand. "Let us talk of something else." "Won't you tell me why your policy was cancelled?" She said evenly, "It's in the file. Because I was a bad girl." "But why? Why--" "Because, Tom. Please, no more. I know you are trying to be just as helpful as you can, but there is no help you can give." "You don't make it easy, Rena." "It can't be easy! You see, I admit everything. I was warned. I helped an old friend whom the Company wanted to--shall we say--treat for radiation sickness? So there is no question that my policy can be cancelled. All legal. It is not the only one of its kind, you know. So why discuss it?" "Why shouldn't we?" Her expression softened. "Because--because we do not agree. And never shall."