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The whole crowd of the lecture hall froze in shock.
Dale realized his fists were clenched. To his surprise, lava-hot anger was rising from his guts. His breath came quick and hot.
No. Calm. A lynch mob isn’t the way.
You started this. You better finish it.
Dale deliberately rose back to his feet. “And what about Deck!” he shouted.
“I didn’t mean that!” Surge shouted, sudden defiance in his pose. “He figured it out and grabbed me, so I pushed him. I didn’t know the railing was that weak!”
The anger was hot—but somehow almost freezing. Dale felt as if making any movement at all would cause him to burst into flame. Keeping control required stillness.
“You murdered a man over version control systems?” Dale shouted.
So much for control.
“It’s not just version control,” Surge shoute
