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- 11 -
Rodin pressed the screen exactly one hour and forty five minutes later.
“Iceman!”
The door clicked, and Rodin made his way up. Jorren was still in the same clothes, but Rodin detected soap. He’d washed. He looked fresher.
He was holding out a chip. “Got it all, Iceman. Everything from the micro.”
“Any problems?”
“Nah. Guy who had the screen, he tried covering his tracks. But nothing I couldn’t handle. Some of it gave me a nice little runaround, but it was all part of the fun.”
Rodin nodded. “You look at much of the data?”
At one time, Jorren would have been offended by such an implication. But Rodin knew he was nosey, and Jorren knew Rodin couldn’t come down hard on him. He shrugged.
“Can’t help seeing things when they’re right before your eyes. But it didn’t make much
