They sat as they always did, side by side at the counter looking out into the empty hall. The same lunch: turkey on rye, no mayo, wrapped in paper on blue plastic trays.

“How’re things?” asked Ethan.

Steghman’s group was slipping its schedule; the key module being redesigned was his.

“Fine,” Steghman said. “And with you?”

Ethan’s girlfriend had slept with another man; he had to rename half his code. “Fine,” he said.

They both stared out into the hallway.