It was Fred's turn.
He could barely hear himself talk over the sound of ice being crushed under his pickup's studded tires.
"I'm telling you again, Mike. I can't do anything about this until I'm in the office."
Fred's voice may have been drowned out by road noise but Mike came in loud and clear. "That's not good enough!" he shouted.
"What'd'ya want me to do, Mike? Whip out my laptop and try to dig into this with one hand while I'm driving?"
"No."
"Twenty minutes," said Fred.
"Fifteen."
"You can't negotiate with ice."
"You're killing the planet. Make it worth our while. Fifteen minutes."
Fred rolled his eyes. He waited until he was sure the phone was disconnected, then murmured "Asshole."
Like everything that happened at InterIntraCo, it was a Red Alert. Again.
Hundreds of mid- and large-scale customers had rolled out the latest version of InterIntraCo's mobile profiling library. Everything was fine in the test environments. Yet, as soon as the new version hit end-user devices, it caused the apps using it to slow down dramatically.
Most customers had no rollback plan and there was no feature-switch to undo whatever the change was.
Fred was broken from his reverie when he noticed a minivan on the side of the road. It didn't look right.
He slowed and pulled into the shoulder.
Gravel ground under his boots, cutting through the fresh snow and into the frozen sheet of water that covered the pavement.
As he passed the rear window of the van, he saw two car seats in the rear captain's chairs. Each had an occupant.
A young woman was sitting in the front seat frantically mashing on a phone that was dark with a shattered screen.
Fred leaned out to peek at the front end. It was smashed against a large rock.
Fred leaned out to peek at the front end. It was smashed against a large rock.
The lady jumped a little when she looked up and saw Fred. Then she opened the door and got out.
"Are you alright?" asked Fred.
"We're fine but the car won't start," she said. "There's no heat. Can I use your phone?"
Fred nodded and handed her the phone.
The woman called her auto club and began to summon a tow-truck.
In the middle of the call, she said "Just a moment" and looked at the phone. To Fred: "Someone named 'Mike' is calling."
The woman called her auto club and began to summon a tow-truck.
In the middle of the call, she said "Just a moment" and looked at the phone. To Fred: "Someone named 'Mike' is calling."
Fred smirked. "Let him stew."
After she finished the call, she said, "They'll be here in about forty-five minutes to an hour."
"Really? You told them you had kids in a car with no heat."
"They can't get here in time. We bundled up tight, today. We'll be okay."
Fred jerked his head toward his phone, still in the young lady's hand.
"Why don't you call your husband or something?" he asked.
The young woman's smiled but, even in the freezing air, Fred could see a glisten form in the corner of her eye. She turned her head to the side, tucking her hands into her armpits.
"He can't help."
Fred pursed his lips for a minute, staring at boots. He kicked a piece of gravel and it skittered across the ice.
"Let's move the kids into my truck. No room for the car seats but I can keep 'em warm while we wait."
The young lady's smile turned genuine.
"Thank you," she said as she stuck out her hand, "Mr.?"
"Juniper," said Fred, as he closed his hands around frigid fingers. "Fred Juniper. Nice to meet you, Mrs.?"
"Ms.," she corrected. "Jane. I'm Jane Fuller."
