Giuseppe must’ve been able to see the bunk template, too, because he stuttered to a stop, staring up at the statue. “Did you really program a giant statue of yourself into your bunk template? That’s so narcissistic.”

Tom smothered his laughter. “Wow. He already has your number, man.”

Vik shot him a look of death as Tom backed out of the bunk.

AS IT TURNED out, Tom had no assigned roommate of his own. He’d never had his own bunk before, not by himself. He spent about twenty minutes sitting in there, trying to figure out what to do with all the new space, wondering what he’d do if Giuseppe replaced him as Vik’s best friend somehow.

Tom grew annoyed with himself and headed downstairs to the Middle Company primer meeting. As he stepped into the Lafayette Room, he delved into his pocket for his neural wire and upgrade chip. Row after row of benches filled the lecture hall, leading to a massive stage with a podium, a US flag, and a flag with the logos of the Coalition companies that were aligned with Indo-American interests: Epicenter Manufacturing; Obsidian Corp.; Wyndham Harks; Matchett-Reddy; Nobridis, Inc.; and Tom’s least favorite of all, Dominion Agra.

He glared at that one as he took his place in the row before the stage, where Wyatt Enslow was already waiting.

“Tom, you didn’t brush your hair today,” she greeted him.

“Nice to see you, too. How was break?”

But Wyatt was too distressed by the messy hair issue to answer him. “General Marsh won’t be happy if he sees you. He might yell.”

“We should wait and see.”

“Tom, no! Yuri didn’t even get promoted with us, but he brushed his hair today. I saw him.”

“Maybe that’s why he didn’t get promoted with us. He brushes his hair too much.”

Wyatt frowned, genuinely perplexed. They both knew Yuri hadn’t gotten promoted because he was suspected of being a Russian spy and consequently had a lower security clearance than everyone else.

Tom surrendered. “Fine. Okay. Happy?” He pawed at his head, but he was clearly messing it up even more, since Wyatt reached up to claw at his head, too.

“No, you have to smooth down this right here. . . .”

“Ow!” Tom exclaimed as she tugged. “Don’t pull it out!”

Vik swept over to his place beside them. “Enslow, stop assaulting Tom.”

“I’m not assaulting Tom.” Wyatt smiled wickedly at Vik. “Speaking of assaults, how did you like your bunk?”

“Glorious,” Vik said dangerously. “I am going to retaliate, you realize. After all, I’m not Tom. I am far from terrible at programming.”

Tom realized Vik was mocking him. “Hey!”

“I can actually write a program every so often,” Vik went on, “a program with no nulls, no infinite loops.”

“I can write programs.”