"Sir," he said, "Our detectors reported a collapser being—" his gaze, forgetful of military deportment, took a second to wander bug-eyed over the more truncated sections of the room, "—being used in this vicinity."
"Congratulations," Baxter remarked sarcastically. "Your eyes might give you the selfsame information, corporal. One has been used. I have the situation in hand, however. You may take your men and go."
"Yes, sir," the young man said, obviously fighting an urge to break protocol and ask what the hell happened.
"Oh! And corporal," Baxter said, as the boy began to organize his squad.
"Sir?"
"You might scratch Myers and Gibson off the payroll list. Send their families the usual telegrams of condolence."
The corporal's eyes bugged even more so, and he swallowed noisily before mumbling "Yes, sir" again and departing.
"That was pretty callous, even from you," I said, as the sounds of their footsteps dwindled and disappeared.
"Not callous at all. Efficient."
"Callous."