Cannibal Reign by Thomas Koloniar

God’s sake get some toys down here! Building blocks, Legos, little cars. Some of those plastic army men even. I assume you were kids once yourselves.”
    “You might even bring some musical instruments down,” Veronica suggested. “Let some of the kids teach themselves how to play. A few of them are bound to have some natural talent. And what about some puppets? They can put on puppet shows for each other. Little kids love that stuff. Things they can apply their imaginations to.”
    Forrest looked at Ulrich. “You getting all this?”
    “I’ll send the Dynamic Duo out tomorrow,” Ulrich said. “But I’m drawing the line at musical instruments. I’m not listening to that goddamn racket.”
    Forrest chuckled sardonically. “As you might imagine, he’s great with kids.”
    “Next up is the kitchen and the mess facilities,” Ulrich said, leading the way. “Both of which are equally cramped . . .”
    When the tour was finished and after the sleeping arrangements had been made for the night, Michael and Veronica sat down in Launch Control with all of five of the men.
    “I have to be honest with you,” Michael said. “I think fifty is a bridge too far. I think you should cut that number in half. Tinkertoys and puppet shows not withstanding, it’s going to be very crowded down here. Tempers are bound to flare even if things are going well, and I don’t think you should count on them going well. It’s human nature to complain.”
    “You’re starting to sound like him,” Forrest said with a nod toward Ulrich. “Nobody said this was going to be easy or fun.”
    “But why not increase your chances for success?” Veronica asked, stroking Laddie’s head as he stood panting alongside her. “It’s better to save twenty or thirty than to almost save fifty. Wouldn’t you agree?”
    “You’re beating a dead horse,” Ulrich said. “He’s intent.”
    “I reiterate,” Forrest said. “I do not believe that everyone’s going to accept our offer.”
    “So you’re the supreme commander here?” Veronica said, purposefully asking a potentially provocative question in front of the other four.
    “I’m in command, yes,” he replied without blinking. “I was their commanding officer in the Army, but now we’re all friends of equal standing and it’s been agreed that I’m to lead. Only a vote of four-to-one can overrule one of my decisions.”
    “And what about your civilians?” she asked. “Do they get a vote?”
    “No.”
    “Is that fair?”
    “Do I strike you as a tyrant?” he asked, digging the pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. “I’m not in this because I get my rocks off telling people what to do. Authority comes with a lot of responsibility, and the fewer orders you have to give, the better.”
    Michael did not fail to notice that Forrest was smoking a lot, and that he was obviously under a lot of stress. “Do you plan to smoke down here after the civilians arrive?”
    “I’ll do my smoking in the cargo bay,” he said. “That’s where the lift elevator is located. There are two blast doors separating the bay from the main complex.”
    “I take it you’ve stocked up on cigarettes?”
    “I’ve been smoking for a long time. I intend to cut back, maybe even quit, but now is clearly not the time for me to attempt to do that.”
    “No, of course not,” Michael said. “Only curious.”
    “You’re analyzing me,” Forrest said. “I get that. You’re a shrink and it’s probably to be expected. So what’s your evaluation so far?”
    “Well, we could talk about that later if you—”
    “Lay it on me, Doc. I don’t keep secrets from these guys. Do you think I’m a narcissist?”
    “Not at all. But at the risk of offending you, I will say that I think the loss of your family has—”
    “Michael . . .”
    “He asked, honey, so I’m telling him . . . I think the loss of your family has clouded your better judgment in terms of how many people you should try to