"I did not spend three billion dollars to become the warden of a frozen graveyard."
A harsh laugh erupted from the external speakers of Malcolm's armored suit. The sound filled the heated cabin of the heavy snow crawler.
Malcolm leaned back against the wall. He stared at the silver haired politician sitting across from him.
"You want to rule a city of starving beggars Richard," Malcolm said. "Those people are not political assets. They are parasites."
Richard frowned slightly. He lowered his glass of dark liquor.
"They will consume your food and breed disease," Malcolm continued. "They offer zero value to a functioning society. When your logistics depot runs dry they will slit your throat in your sleep for a single canned ham."
Malcolm pointed a heavy armored finger at the reinforced
