A tortilla chip snaps in Dan’s fingers. “I’m not saying it’s just complicated, Mac! I’m saying it’s crazy! And the people who designed this architecture, they knew it was crazy and they went ahead and did it anyway. They went along with it because it was good for them. The whole industry loved it because it was new business just when the nukes were topping out. And the physicists went along with it because it made them important again, like during the Manhattan Project. And the Air Force went along with it because it made them more important than ever. And the government went along with it because the economy was looking bad at the end of the century. Need a boost—military spending—it’s been the method of choice ever since World War Two got them out of the Great Depression. Hard times? Start a war! Or pump money into weapons whether there’s a war or not. It’s like we use weapons as a drug, snort some up and stimulate the old economy. Best upper known to man.”

“Okay, Dan, okay. But calm down, will you? Calm down, calm down. There’s nothing we can do about that now.”

Dan stares out the window. The next pitcher arrives and he fills his new glass, spilling over the edge so all the big grains of salt run in yellow-white streams down onto the paper tablecloth. He drinks, elbows on the table, leaning forward. He stares down into the empty glass. “It’s a hell of a business.”

McPherson sighs heavily; he hates a maudlin drunk, and he’s about to physically stop Dan from refilling his glass yet again when Dan looks up at him; and those red-rimmed eyes, so full of pain, pierce McPherson and hold him in place.

“A hell of a business,” Dan repeats soddenly. “You spend your whole life working on proposals. Bids, for Christ’s sake. It isn’t even work that is ever going to see the light. The Pentagon just sets companies at each other’s throats. Group bids, one-on-one competitions, leader-follower bids. Kind of like cockfighting. I wonder if they bet on us.”

“Stimulates fast development,” McPherson says shortly. There’s no sense talking about this kind of thing.…

“Yeah, sure, but the waste! The waste, man, the waste. For each project five or six companies work up separate proposals. That’s six times as much work as they would need to do if they were all working together in coordination, like parts of a team. And it’s hard work, too! It eats people’s lives.”

Now Dan gets an expression on his face that McPherson can’t bear to watch; he’s thinking of his ally Dawn now, sure. McPherson looks around for the waitress, signals for their check.