You’re a monster.
Thanks. Does this mean I get a raise?
Just a medal. The budget isn’t inexhaustible.

Cheer up. The buggers may kill us all before he graduates.
Graff smiled. You’re right. I feel better already.

Peter has always been a husbandman of pain, planting it, nurturing it, devouring it greedily when it was ripe.

But with his old friends, there was no laughter, no remembering. Just work. Just intelligence and excitement about the game, but nothing beyond that.

I shouldn’t burden you with my conscience. But my eagerness to sacrifice little children in order to save mankind is wearing thin.

A timeless tale, ripe with challenges that force painful questions.

How far is too far to save the world?

And are we sure it needed saving?