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could get it to change course, and that was all Zeke ever wanted. That was the real fun. But dangerous—you could easily wind up in a military brig scamming for your life. Even now, even here with imminent danger pressing like a hand at his throat, it still gave him a rush.
    It wasn’t that much different with computers, except that machines were much easier to fool than people. You just had to know the language and he knew them all, including C++, the core language of the Unix machine he was manipulating right now.
    He finished up and Angela ambled back to her desk. Nice girl.
    She might come in handy some day.
    ***
    The corridor was empty. Liddell slammed the big door behind them. It had all seemed so easy in the office, sitting at the terminal. But so much could have gone wrong. The orders might not have been delivered. His tampering might have been discovered.
    Zeke took a deep breath as Liddell griped on about missing his Toronto Blue Jays. He had season tickets, but they did him no good stuck in the smog on the other side of the country. He was sure the Jays were going to win the World Series this year. Zeke agreed. He could feel the blood pounding behind his eyes. The far door opened. Dooley and Tony and two others started rolling toward Zeke and Liddell like a phalanx of Bradleys. They filled the whole corridor. Zeke tilted his wrist so he could see his watch. The digital read out said 8:13. He had two minutes.
    If the orders had gone through.
    If his tricks were undetected.
    He let his breath out through his teeth in a low hiss. His body was already flinching, trying to draw into itself. This was going to hurt, which was part of the plan.
    The group stopped. Liddell faded back.
    â€œHey, Beaumont.” Dooley grinned.
    â€œI suppose it’s too late for an apology.”
    Dooley snickered. “Oh no. You’re gonna say you’re sorry, Beaumont. But you’re gonna do it with a shattered knee, and a collapsed lung and a ruptured kidney. And that’s for starters. Every time you try to piss or walk upstairs for the rest of your life you’re gonna say you’re sorry. We’re gonna break you so you can’t be fixed.”
    Zeke risked another glance at his watch, 8:15 exactly.
    â€œExpecting somebody?” Dooley asked.
    â€œThe cavalry.”
    â€œRight. The cavalry. Like in those old movies. But in real life there ain’t no cavalry. The Indians just massacre everybody. Nobody shows up to help. Nobody gives a shit.”
    â€œYou may have a point there, Dooley.” Zeke admitted. “You’re not as stupid as you look. On the other hand—how could you be?”
    Dooley’s face hardened. “Grab him.”
    Tony took one arm and an even bigger guy grabbed the other. Dooley took a step forward and the first punch hit Zeke’s stomach like a police battering ram blasting through a cheesy motel-room door. He was wide open and Dooley charged in, knocking Zeke’s head left and right with two roundhouse punches. Agony exploded behind his eyes, he could feel his sinuses rupture and his jaw break. He sagged forward and Dooley grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking him up face to face.
    â€œHow stupid do I look now, fuck face?”
    Zeke could barely open his mouth to talk. “About the same,” he managed to say. “But there’s three of you.”
    Dooley grunted and drove his knee up into Zeke’s groin. The flat glassy wave of pain raced through him like voltage.
    The next punch ended it.
    Zeke woke up in the brig emergency ward, his nose bandaged, his ribs taped, and his jaw wired shut. It was day time, that was all he could tell. They had him on some powerful painkiller, probably oxycodone. He had no idea if it was a day or a week after the attack and he didn’t care. He was high as a kite, being fed through a tube and drained through a catheter. It was the perfect life style for a lazy shit.
    He faded again and when he came