Prologue.- A tense night at the lab.

It is said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Spiraling towers rose never-ending in the sprawling city. Levitating trains weaved between the crystal behemoths to deliver their late cargo of tired workers. A spaceship soared through the starry sky above, its engine leaving a blue trail as it accelerated to speeds beyond what was considered possible.

It never got old. Katashi reclined on his chair, admiring the view. Faint memories of what used to be flashed in his mind. Of the distant chimneys spewing black smog towards grey skies. Of streets filled with trash, the buildings half dilapidated. It was hard to believe how far they had come, and yet-

“Professor, what the hell is this?” the old scientist swiveled on his chair, leaning over his desk. A scruffy young man with unkempt black hair was standing on the other side. He had thrown a binder atop the table, its papers spilling out on his otherwise pristine workstation. “You signed the contract with the military?!”

Katashi rubbed at his white beard, eyeing the camera above. “AIDA, I thought I told you to keep that contract under lock and key.”

“My apologies, Professor, but Dr Kensu greeted the courier at the door before I had the chance to receive the documents,” a feminine voice replied.

“And you even had to gall to try and keep it a secret?! How could you-“

“How could I? You insolent-” Katashi struggled to stand up, one of his wrinkled hands grabbing the table for leverage while the other pointed at the upstart mouthing off at him. “If any of my other assistants yelled at me like that, they would be on the street before they could even finish their sentence!”

“Then fire me then! I refuse to develop bioweapons!”

“Was I ever this insufferably obstinate…?” the Professor mumbled before locking eyes with his assistant. “Kensu, you have to look at the bigger picture!”

“Oh yeah, I can see the big picture on the evening news alright. The Councilmembers praising our man-made horrors as they cleanse a planet to prepare it for our glorious colonization! How many aliens do you think these viruses will kill? Millions? Billions?!”

“That’s not what we- argh!” Katashi massaged his forehead. As much as he might want to, he could not fire him yet. Butting heads was not going to work either. He had to try a more subtle approach.

“Remember when you first came to my lab, and I asked you why you wanted to work here? You told me about how you dreamt of developing crops to feed colonies in the fringes of space and medicine to help safeguard humanity against alien pathogens.”

“What does that have to do with-”

“No one else cares about that! Not the corporations selling their synthetic food to the colonies, and certainly not the maniacs at the Council.”

“But-”

“As far as everyone here knows, life here is just too perfect to care about the colonists on far-flung stars. If we want to keep doing good, we need cash to keep the lab working. This contract is the only way to keep the lights on and stop the Bureau from knocking at our door!”

“I… There has to be a way to make money without selling our souls to the military.” Katashi rubbed his beard to hide his smirk. The guilt-tripping was working. Thank goodness Kensu was still in his idealist phase.

“I know it’s hard to swallow, but there really isn’t. Trust me, I tried with every corporation, councilmember and even charity in the Solar System. At least this way we can give those poor aliens a more humane death, instead of letting them burn under the Fleet’s firebombs. It really is for the greater good.”

“It ...doesn’t feel like any good at all.”

“I promise you won’t even have to look at this research, I’ll give it to Aya’s team. In fact…“ The professor flicked the screen on his desk, sending a file to his assistant. “…Why don’t you keep working on the Ceres cattle project? I just sent you the DNA sample of our low-grav calf. Please send it to the clone vat to see if our modifications are working as intended.”

Kensu remained silent, staring at his mentor for the better part of a minute. Katashi stared back. The young man’s posture had softened. The high-ground approach really worked for him, at least for the time being.

“… Fine. I’ll stay until we complete this project. But this isn’t the last time we’ll talk about this.”

“Trust me. I know… Now go on, I’m sure the spacers are eager to try on some real milk for once.”