"Luther," by Ethan Lipton, at Here Arts Center Can a man who kills other men for money retain his humanity? What if his employer is the United States government? This question, as it pertains to the psychological and sociological fate of American veterans, is one that the country has never been quite comfortable answering, especially now that less than 1 percent of Americans serve in the military. Suicides among active-duty soldiers are at a record high, and only about three-quarters of veterans who served after Sept. 11 have jobs. Disturbing stuff, certainly, but what can disconnected civilians do about it? Slap bumper stickers on our minivans? "Luther," running at Here Arts Center as part of the Clubbed Thumb Summerworks 2012 festival, offers a more visceral alternative. In this wine-dark satire, families adopt veterans with post-traumatic stress disorder to help them make the transition back into civilian life. In this alternate universe the adopted veterans hold a social status that falls between pet and child, while bourgeois "parents" coo over their own generosity toward America's displaced heroes. It is a bizarre conceit and a disturbing one. But it's one that Ethan Lipton's trenchant script and Ken Rus Schmoll's pitch-perfect direction deliver masterfully. Ominous though the play's premise is, laughs are elicited effortlessly from the most casual of dialogue. Initially the plot appears relatively banal: well meaning, the high-strung parents Marjorie and Walter (Kelly Mares and Gibson Frazier) decide to take Luther - the infantilized veteran who sleeps on their couch - to a company party. Unfortunately Luther (Bobby Moreno, as a disarmingly guileless killing machine) is not quite ready for prime time. Consequences both hilarious and horrifying ensue. Most of the play oozes with a moral ambiguity that will stick to your bones and your conscience long after you've left the theater. It's only in the last scene that Mr. Lipton succumbs to that dangerous dramatic temptation toward didacticism, clubbing his audience over the head with a long monologue about free will and the evils of war. But in an otherwise excellent play that explores how we alternately demonize, deify and finally ignore our wounded warriors, perhaps one misstep is allowed.