“Which one should we check first?” Patrick asked, as Natalie jumped the last few feet to the ground.

She made a show of thinking about it, looking up and stroking her chin. “The … closer one?”

Patrick completely ignored the sarcasm. “Right. Let’s go. We’re burning daylight.”

Nat glanced sideways at me as we followed. “Is it my imagination, or does he talk even more like John Wayne than he used to?”

“What’s killing me is how motivated he is. I feel like, I dunno, like I should be leading this project, but Patrick has basically taken over.”

“I don’t think he’s as cool with inheriting the butcher shop as he pretends, Jack. I’ve been pretty vocal about being stuck in this Podunk town for the rest of my life, but I think Patrick has just repressed it.”

I sighed. “And now I might be in the same boat.”

“Come on. The MIT thing is bad, but I’m sure they’ll find you innocent.”

“I hope so, but I’ll be happier when it’s over. If they find against me, it’s over. I won’t get in anywhere.”

Nat made a face. “I’m not really clear on the details. Something about bitcoin?”

“Someone installed bitcoin mining daemons on all the lab computers using my ID. It caused a couple of other students’ projects to fail, overwhelmed the air conditioners, and eventually tripped a bunch of breakers, and a whole batch of refrigerated biological samples spoiled. A lot of angry people, some missed deadlines, projects that will have to be re-done from scratch, and I’m on the hook. They’ve suspended me pending results of an investigation. Improper use of equipment, theft of services, hacking … you know.”

Nat shook her head. “You’re not that guy, Jack. But I get that it has put you in a bad spot.”

I grunted, but didn’t add anything. I still got the falling-elevator sensation whenever I thought about it, so it wasn’t my favorite topic of casual conversation.

We finished the march in silence. When we caught up with Patrick, he was standing in the middle of a patch of shorter scrub grass, fists on hips, slowly turning in place.

“It doesn’t really look like a good candidate,” Nat opined.

“Yeah, but let’s just be thorough anyway, okay?” Patrick said. “Everyone spread out and feel around for something you can’t see.” He put out his arms and began walking around like a sleepwalker, waving his arms in front of him and over his head.

Nat and I watched the performance for a moment and laughed. Putting out our arms, we began doing the same in an exaggerated manner. Nat moaned loudly like a tortured soul, and I intoned, “Brainssssss … ” Within moments, all three of us were doing our best slow-zombie impersonations.