Running, Part 2

“Oh, dear,” Helai said, looking down at the body of Rile Andersen. “I guess he was right.” She hit her pager and started filling out the paperwork while waiting for Mr. Washburn to arrive.

“I guess Joe wins the pool,” Washburn said as he walked through the door. “I had been betting he'd get through at least another day. Ice team on its way?”

Helai nodded. Did he really have to ask? “Yeah, they're a little short-handed today, though. Permission to lend a hand?”

“Of course,” Washburn replied. “What's the clock at?” He looked up at the digital display, but everything had been shut down immediately upon rhythm cessation, as per protocol. Didn't need any more interference.

“We still have ten minutes,” Helai said, checking her paper notes. “Jevol should be here in five.”

“Good,” Washburn said, walking back to the door. “I hate pushing it to the wire. Last time we did that, the man was never quite right. Keep me updated.”

The ice team came in just seconds after Washburn left, two men – who looked far too young for this work – toting their cryogenic equipment. Not much decay could happen in ten minutes, but it didn't hurt to be sure. The better preserved Rile was when he was resurrected, the less rehab he'd have to go through. And they were on a schedule, after all.

Helai's phone rang with the cheery, up-beat rendition of taps she reserved for Mr. Jevol. “Yes, sir?” she answered.

“Mind if I bring along an observer today?” Jevol said. His voice had its usual edge of creepy enthusiasm, as if he was trying slightly to hard to emote. “I have this up-and-comer I think would love to see the field side of our work.”

“Fine by me,” Helai said. “I'm sure Mr. Andersen won't mind.”