They sat in the easy quiet of two people who had arrived at a mutual understanding without having to say it directly. Outside the east wing canteen window, the campus was moving through its Thursday afternoon, students crossing the quad, a group by the fountain, and the ordinary business of an institution that had no idea what was sitting in its east wing canteen deciding things.
"The avoidance detour," Mike said. "Twenty-two minutes round trip."
"Every Thursday and Tuesday," Tyler said.
"Drop it," Mike said. "Starting next week."
Tyler looked at him. "You're certain about that."
"Yes," Mike said.
"What happens if they adjust after noticing the schedule change?" Tyler asked. "They might find a different overlap."
"Then they find a different overlap," Mike said. "And we handle that version."
"There's always another version," Tyler said, echoing the earlier words back precisely.
"Exactly," Mike said.
