“For and against O.S.?” I asked. “We had those sides before.” “Not recognizably,” Achilles answered as the cameras zoomed in on the spreading bull’s-eye. “Now there’s a symbol, and not an ignoble one: kill me if it will serve the human race. Many have worn lesser sigils proudly. Many will wear this one. When you can tell friend from foe, you can make battle lines.” Flush rose in the great commander’s cheeks, flush of anticipation, anger, readiness. “With this you can make war.”
