"Back to the guns," the jaygee choked. He swayed, and Orsino took him by the arm.... On the way back to the jeep, they stumbled over something that was certainly a body. Orsino's flesh shrank from lying down again in the mud behind his gun, but he did, shivering. He heard the jaygee thud wearily into position. "What did you do to him?" he asked. "Is he dead?" "Kicked him," the jaygee choked. "His head snapped back and there was that crack. I guess he's dead. I never heard of that broken-wing trick before. I guess he wanted to take one more with him. They have a kind of religion." The jaygee sounded as though he was teetering on the edge of breakdown. Make him mad, intuition said to Orsino. He might go howling off among the trees unless he snaps out of it. "It's a hell of way to run an island," he said nastily. "You beggars were chased out of North America because you couldn't run it right and now you can't even control a lousy little island for more than five miles inland." He added with deliberate, superior amusement: "Of course, they've got witches." "Shut your mouth, gangster--_I'm warning you._" The note of hysteria was still there. And then the jaygee said dully: "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. You did come out and help me after all." "Surprised?" "Yes. Twice. First time when you wanted to go out yourself. I suppose you can't help being born where you were. Maybe if you came over to us all the way, the Government would forgive and forget. But no--I suppose not." He paused, obviously casting about for a change of subject. He still seemed sublimely confident that they'd get back to the naval base with him in charge of the detail. "What ship did you cross in?" "Atom sub _Taft_," Orsino said. He could have bitten his tongue out. "_Taft?_ That's my father's pigboat! Captain Van Dellen. How is he? I was going down to the dock when--" "He's dead," Orsino said flatly. "He was caught on deck during an emergency dive." The jaygee said nothing for a while and then uttered an unconvincing laugh of disbelief. "You're lying," he said. "His crew'd never let that happen. They'd let the ship be blown to hell before they took her down without the skipper." "Grinnel had the con. He ordered the dive and roared down the crew when they wanted to get your father inboard. I'm sorry." "Grinnel," the jaygee whispered. "Grinnel. Yes, I know Commander Grinnel. He's--he's a good officer. He must have done it because he had to. Tell me about it, please." It was more than Orsino could bear. "Your father was murdered," he said harshly. "I know because Grinnel put me on radar watch--and I don't know a God-damned thing about reading a radarscope. He told me to sing out 'enemy planes' and I did because I didn't know what the hell was going on. He used that as an excuse to crash-dive while your father was sleeping on deck. Your good officer murdered him." He heard the jaygee sobbing hoarsely. At last he asked Orsino in a dry, choked voice: "Politics?"