The Ghost Brigades by John Scalzi

with clones and some of the more reactionary types get a twitch in their skulls. Something like this wouldn’t even get out of committee.”
    â€œBoutin’s a key to whatever the Rraey and their allies have planned,” Robbins said. “This might be a time to take a page from the U.S. Marines and beg forgiveness rather than ask permission.”
    â€œI’d admire your willingness to hoist the Jolly Roger, Colonel,” Mattson said. “But you’re not the one they’ll shoot. Or not the only one.”
    Szilard, who had been chewing a steak, swallowed and set down his utensils. “We’ll do it,” he said.
    â€œPardon?” Mattson said.
    â€œGive the consciousness pattern to Special Forces, General,” Szilard said. “And give us Boutin’s genes. We’ll use them to craft a Special Forces soldier. We use more than one set of genes to make every soldier; technically, it won’t be a clone. And if the consciousness doesn’t take, it will make no difference. It will just be another Special Forces soldier. There’s nothing to lose.”
    â€œExcept that if the consciousness does take, we’ll have a Special Forces soldier with treason on his mind,” Mattson said. “That doesn’t sound appealing.”
    â€œWe can prepare for that,” Szilard said, and picked up his utensils again.
    â€œYou’ll be using genes from a live person, and a colonist,” Robbins said. “My understanding was that Special Forces only took the genes from CDF volunteers who die before they can serve. That’s why they’re called ‘the Ghost Brigades.’”
    Szilard looked up sharply at Robbins. “I don’t much like that name,” Szilard said. “The genes of dead CDF volunteers are one component. And typically we use the volunteer genes as the template. But Special Forces has a wider latitude in the genetic material we’re able to use to build our soldiers. Given our mission for the CDF, it’s almost a requirement. Anyway, Boutin is legally dead—we’ve got a dead body with his genes in them. And we don’t know that he is alive. Does he have any survivors?”
    â€œNo,” Mattson said. “He had a wife and kid, but they died before he did. No other family.”
    â€œThen there’s no problem,” Szilard said. “After you’re dead, your genes aren’t yours anymore. We’ve used expired colonist genes before. I don’t see why we can’t do it again.”
    â€œI don’t remember hearing this about how you build your people, Szi,” Mattson said.
    â€œWe’re quiet about what we do, General,” Szilard said. “You know that.” He cut a piece of steak and speared it into his mouth. Robbins’s stomach grumbled. Mattson grunted, leaned back in his chair, and looked up at Phoenix, imperceptibly turning in the sky. Robbins followed his gaze and felt another pang of homesickness.
    Presently Mattson turned his attention back to Szilard. “Boutin is one of my people,” he said. “For better or worse. I can’t pass the responsibility for this to you, Szi.”
    â€œFine,” Szilard said, and nodded to Robbins. “Then let me borrow Robbins. He can act as your liaison, so Military Research will still have a hand in. We’ll share information. We’ll borrow the technician too. Wilson. He can work with our technicians to integrate the Consu technology. If it works, we have Charles Boutin’s memories and motivations and a way to prepare for this war. If it doesn’t work, I have another Special Forces solider. Waste not. Want not.”
    Mattson looked over to Szilard, considering. “You seem eager to do this, Szi,” Mattson said.
    â€œHumans are moving toward war with three species who have allied together,” Szilard said. “That’s never happened before. We could take on any one of