I don’t know C…
Electra (or Elly as she was known) slapped her $50.00 fee down on the counter in the ‘High’s Cool’ ski resort foyer and rang the service bell. After ringing three more times, a person finally came forth. “Sorry,” the receptionist, Bern Oulee, apologized. “We’re understaffed. A lot of people are against the testing of a 160-hour work week.”
Elly blinked. “And you’re working because…"
“I’m pro-testing.”
Elly sighed. “Well, as long as this deviation from protocol isn’t standard,” she relented. “Now, is Room 231 finally ready?”
The receptionist scanned the log book with e’s and nodded. “Electra and Ana Lysis? The room’s been made up; you even have a parcel waiting there.”
As Elly processed this, her sister turned to her. “Well, my assessment of the situation is that we’ll have at least two hours until dinner,” Ana observed.
“Er, good estimation…” Elly said, experimentally.
“Well then, I’m going to rise over ski runs and thus observe slopes. Maybe give them a trial run.”
Elly nodded. “Then I’ll move our articles to our room.”
That decided, the two sisters parted ways as another individual entered on the other side of the foyer. He was visibly upset. “First my flight gets PPD; A.C. will hear about that,” Max complained. “Then those confounded crankshafts! Causing crazy car collisions, creating chaos… I hope I’m still in time…"
He approached the receptionist and paused for a confidence interval. “I’m Max Value,” he finally said. “Has anyone named Ana Lysis been by?”
Bern Oulee raised an eyebrow - there was no expected Value in his log book. “You just missed your target,” he said guardedly. “Her room is 231 but…"
“Why… aie!!" Max gasped, running off. What were the odds in catching her? He hoped there was still the time to perform any pivotal function required…
He almost ran into a short haired woman in his charge to the elevators, but Dr. Waterson paid only marginal attention to their encounter. She’d had a good derive down in a rented ford from Tilde. She proceeded to the counter and greeted the receptionist. “Hi, I’m booked in Room 230 and I’m looking for an Electra Lysis.”
“Figures. Room 231,” came Bern’s standard response. He shook his head. “Is there some sort of plot here?”
“Not that I know of,” the doctor replied, moving off.
Bern sighed. “All the flakes aren’t in the snowdrifts.”
*
To be prolonged…
--Alia S. Choir
[NOTE: We've moved from STAT230 into STAT231. This was also the mathNEWS issue where names were changed to draw attention to the 1997 Teachers' Strike in Ontario... we posed as "replacement" workers. "Alia" was the Evil Leaper on Quantum Leap, while "S Choir" is from Bill S. Preston Esquire. And no, there is no plot. That you can spot yet.]
