“Hey, what’s the matter, buddy?” Symington said in his usual booming voice. “Ain’t you glad to see us? We didn’t know whether you’d actually sign up for another term.”
“What do you think of the new process?” Green asked. “I told you in the email—jeez, it seems like just this afternoon I did that—I told you I had some reservations, but it does seem to work. I sure don’t feel any different. It really is instantaneous—what’s the matter?”
Hawker had gone white. “You—you’re dead. Both of you. You’re both dead!”
“Somebody sure forgot to tell me that,” Symington laughed, but Green was inclined to take Hawker’s upset a little more seriously.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “How can we be dead? The army just resurrected us; we don’t even know who we’re fighting yet.”
“You died last time—on the M
