“Cut their operating expenses to the bone!” Stan proclaimed approvingly. Momentarily losing track, perhaps, of whose side he was on.

“What does this mean for us today?” Zula asked.

Stan pulled the health care directive over to himself and began scanning it. He seemed to be focusing on the part of it that had been contributed by his former colleague Christopher Vail. As he did so, he spoke in a somewhat distracted manner: “I think that is going to depend, Zula, on the questions we talked about a minute ago . . . whether the company is solvent . . . what the current state of the technology is. . . .”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘solvent,’” Corvallis said. “According to the Internet—”

“Which as we know is never wrong,” Esme put in.

“Yeah. According to the Internet, the decapitation gambit only bought them three more years. Then they reached a point—”

“Oh, my god, I remember this now. It was a news story, briefly,” Esme said. “The power company was threatening to shut them off for nonpayment. The company insisted that letting the brains thaw out would be tantamount to murder. It was a standoff.”

Stan literally slapped his forehead. “Jesus. I can’t believe Dodge got into business with these people.” Which merely drew quizzical looks from both Zula and Corvallis, wordlessly asking, Do you have the first idea of the kinds of people he did get into business with? Oblivious, Stan shook his head. “But at least we’ve answered the question of whether they are solvent.”

“Depends on what you mean,” Corvallis said. His Googling was still keeping pace with the conversation. “A deal was worked out. One of the original Eutropians swooped in. Elmo Shepherd.”

“One of those pissed-off Eutropians who had sued them earlier?” Zula asked.

“You got it. Shepherd was the main instigator of that lawsuit. He claimed that Ephrata Cryonics had laid claim to some IP—some intellectual property—that ought to have been in the public domain—the open-source work of the original Eutropians.”

“Hang on, I know who El Shepherd is. Hell, I’ve met him,” Stan said. “I think he’s one of our clients in the Silicon Valley office.”

“He made some money on an IPO and became a venture capitalist,” Corvallis said. “Mostly conventional tech VC stuff, it looks like—but he has maintained a side interest in life extension.”

“So, what happened when he ‘swooped in’?” Esme asked.

“He formed a new company called Ephrata Life Sciences and Health,” Corvallis said. He had ceased to be an autonomous participant in the conversation and become a conduit for whatever was on the Miasma. “He funded it with his own money. And he worked out a deal—he acquired Ephrata Cryonics lock, stock, and barrel. Ephrata Cryonics is now a wholly owned subsidiary of ELSH, which is based out of the Presidio, San Francisco, California.”