“Put the phone down, Roger. It’s too late for that.” Albert’s voice was solemn as he looked upon his life’s work.

Roger paused in the act of dialing and closed his mobile with a loud snap. He didn’t know how Albert always knew what he was doing without looking. He supposed it was just another facet of the old man’s genius. “I just wanted to tell somebody, to save one life. What if we are murdering good people?”

Albert rounded on his assistant with rage on his face. “I don’t know how many times I have to explain myself. You don’t stop to check to see which is the good roach- you wipe them all out because they are roaches.”

“But we’re talking about people!”

“Are we? Because all I see are roaches. Sick, sick roaches poisoning the rest of us with their stupid ideas and greed.” He shook his head as if to shake off his anger and walked over to the bomb. Running his hand along the chrome outer housing, he murmured fondly, “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure and I ’ve got a megaton of prevention.”