Chapter 10
I walked back through the corridors without seeing much. I had my hands clenched in the pockets of the stupid formal jacket. How could they ask me to do this? Say for one moment I were to set aside my revulsion against the idea of wiping the men, what sense did it make? It would set us back two years. All the things the men had learned weren't something that could just be reproduced and copied.
I guess the men really didn't matter to the top brass. They were front-line troops, cannon fodder, required to press a few buttons before they died.
Shit.
I didn't want to do this, and if there was a way—wait.
The first thing I did when I got to the lab was call up the ship regulations on my computer. There it was: ISF charter, section 46, sub-section a.1. Special project managers ca
