Perhaps the wind shifted, and the smell of the hemp fields grew stronger; perhaps it was only the foul thought that the glaring sky had triggered that contaminated my mood. But where I had been happy and relaxed--the C-bomb completely out of my mind for the moment--now I was too fully aware of what was ahead for all of us. "Let's go back, Rena," I said. She didn't ask why. Perhaps she, too, was feeling the weight of our death sentence. * * * * * We caught the evening newscast; its story varied little from the early ones. Benedetto still slept, but Zorchi joined us as we watched it. The announcer, face stamped with the careful blend of gravity and confidence that marks tele-casters all over the world, was saying: "Late word on the bomb exploded over the North Atlantic indicates that there is some danger that radioactive ash may be carried to this area. The danger zones are now being mapped and surveyed, and residents of all such sections will be evacuated or placed in deep sleep until the danger is over. "Blue Bolt policies give you complete protection against all hazards from this explosion. I repeat, Blue Bolt policies give you complete protection against all hazards from this explosion. Check your policies and be sure of your status. There is absolutely no risk for any person carrying the basic Blue Bolt minimum coverage or better." I clicked off the set. "I wonder what the people in Shanghai are hearing tonight," I said. Zorchi had only listened without comment, when I told him about the bomb that afternoon; he listened without comment now. Rena said: "Tom, I've been wondering. You know, I--I don't have any insurance. Neither has my father, since we were canceled. And we're not the only ones without it, either." I patted her hand. "We'll straighten this out," I promised. "You'll get your coverage back." She gave me a skeptical look, but shook her head. "I don't mean just about father and me. What about all of the uninsurables, all over the world? The bomb goes off, and everybody with a policy files down into the vaults, but what about the others?" I explained, "There are provisions for them. Some of them can be cared for under the dependency-clauses in the policies of their next of kin. Others have various charitable arrangements--some localities, for instance, carry blanket floater policies for their paupers and prisoners and so on. And--well, I don't suppose it would ever come to that, but if someone turned up who had no coverage at all, he could be cared for out of the loss-pool that the Company carries for such contingencies. It wouldn't be luxurious, but he'd live. * * * * * "You see," I went on, warming to my subject, "the Company is set up so the actual premiums paid are meaningless. The whole objective of the Company is service; the premiums are only a way to that goal. The Company has no interest other than the good of the world, and--"