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When Miller returned to the lab, most of the engineers were gone. Instead of shooting, there was quiet. The bullet-riddled targets swayed in the air-conditioning, and the coil casings glinted on the floor. A lone engineer sat at a desk, analyzing a scatterplot.
Miller sipped his can of diet soda, staring at the graph. He held a cup of coffee in his other hand, and a pouch of trail mix stuck out of his shirt pocket.
“How do you look at this stuff all day?” Miller asked. “Do you ever just want to get out in the field and get some fresh air?”
The engineer, an Indian man with unruly black hair, shrugged.
“The field’s overrated, man.”
Miller almost choked on his soda.
“Every man’s opinion to himself, I guess,” he said.
The engineer went back to the graph and ignored Miller.
A door o
