There was a piercing woman's shriek, and a black shape tumbled out of the sky. "Got another one," said DT. "Fuckin' bird-chicks."
"No, they ain't. Just random mixes. Generic chemicals."
"Chimeras," Darcy corrected. "I just don't understand why we have to kill them."
DT shrugged. "Eggheads say they're dangerous. I don't ask. Figure they got enough to study on 'em, and who cares about the rest?" A shadow passed overhead as he spoke. DT pointed. "Griffin!" He raised his bolt-thrower again.
Darcy closed her eyes as the bolt-thrower clicked and something thudded to the ground a hundred yards away.
Rich on Capitalism, Culture, and Language
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