"That's right," Bragg agreed. "There'll always be wars, Saunders; the Earth is overpopulated, always will be."
"More reason to find new worlds," Saunders said tiredly.
"The only solution is war," Bragg insisted. "Survival of the fittest. Forget your crazy ideas about new worlds. There's plenty of room right here ... for the people who win."
"And suppose we lose this time?" Saunders asked.
"We'll never lose," Bragg said with certainty.
Slade smiled a thin, wry smile. "Exactly, Bragg," he said. "As for me, whenever people are ready to fight, I'll be ready to supply them with the goods they'll need. In the meantime, the Moon can wait."
"A year, maybe two," Saunders pleaded, "and the Universe will be open to us. Think of it, think of it...." Again his eyes lit with intense ardor.
"You think of it," Bragg said, "I'm going home."
The other men nodded and began bustling into their overcoats. Saunders stood by helplessly, feeling his last ounce of strength seep from his body.
"Nice of you to think of us," Thorpe said cheerily. "Business is business, though."