Walker spread his hands. "Dr. Millet, you have put it in a nutshell."
Millet shook his head, and for the first time since their conversation had started he frowned. "Walker, you know how I feel about developing weapons. I'm just plain opposed to it."
"The soldier is opposed to losing his life, but many have to do just that in the interests of civilization."
"That serious, eh?"
Walker crumpled under the weight of his fear. "That serious," he said wearily.
Millet thoughtfully relit his pipe. "Of course, I'm not at all sure that United Terra is very right in this thing."
"In times like these, that kind of thought is out of bounds," snapped Walker. "Whether you like it or not, you are a part of this culture. You might disapprove of many things in it, but you don't want to see it fall."
Millet puffed gently. "No, I suppose not." Again the frown flickered across his face. "I've been very happy. I don't want my work interrupted. It's too important, Walker."
"Undoubtedly this would more than interrupt your work. It would replace it."
Millet's eyes drifted affectionately about the room. "Most unpleasant." A smile curled his lips. "Frankly, though, I don't think you can clear me again."