Ty kept the case exactly where Rusuf told him to keep it.
That took more effort than standing still should have. The rail under the wheels had gone quiet after Igloo Nation, but the case carried its own stubborn weight. Meltwater ran under Ty’s boots. His wrapped hand throbbed above his heart while his good palm stayed pressed to the frame.
The cut in the ice widened by another hair.
JJ stood between Ty and the wall with her sword angled low. Blue stayed at the rear guide, eyes moving between the case wheels and the thin line in the ice. Nobody stepped closer to the wall.
"I heard Rusuf, and I dislike how calm he sounded," JJ said. "Calm people near sliced walls make my shoulders suspicious."
Rusuf’s voice came through the line, thin and close.
"Your shoulders are correct to object to this wall," he said. "The wall has pressure blades buried around the rail seam."
Blue crouched beside the front wheel. She wiped meltwater from the rail and found three narrow slots under the frost. Each slot ran across the rail rather than along it. The cuts were too clean to be cracks.
"He means the room has slicers under the case path," Blue said. "If the case rolls forward, something sharp comes up through the seam."
"I liked the wall better when it only had one impossible cut," JJ said. "Rusuf, why are we meeting through a murder sandwich?"
The ice line opened another fraction under his blade pressure.
Rusuf stood on the other side, close enough for Ty to see one sleeve and the lower angle of his blade. The wall kept most of him hidden. Only the sword moved clearly, a dark line held perfectly level.
"Because the service door is gone, and the safety route grew teeth," Rusuf said. "I can cut the locks, but the case must stay centered."
Ty shifted his weight and felt the rail answer under his good hand.
"The rail is waiting for the wall now," Ty said. "The case wants forward, but the wheels are holding."
"Good, tell me when the left wheel pulls against you," Rusuf said from beyond the ice.
JJ glanced back at Ty without turning her shoulders.
"We are doing surgery on a wall by vibes now," she said. "I want that recorded as a low point."
"It is probably a high point for this building," Blue said. "The low points had cuffs and bleeding instructions."
Rusuf’s sword moved behind the ice with measured pressure.
The second slice appeared below the first, low enough to line up with the rail seam. No swing reached through the opening. Ty saw only the result. A clean line cut across the ice, through old frost, and into a hidden metal pin with a sound like a coin snapped in half.
The left wheel tugged against Ty’s palm and settled.
Ty tightened his good hand around the frame.
"The left wheel pulled once and settled under me," Ty said. "The case stayed centered through the pull afterward."
"Then the first lock is dead behind the wall," Rusuf said. "Two more keep the wall from dropping into the rail."
Blue leaned closer to the slot and flinched back as a narrow metal tongue slid out under the case, then withdrew. It moved exactly where the wheel had been a breath earlier.
"The dead lock still has reflexes under the rail," Blue said. "That tongue almost kissed the wheel hard enough."
"Nobody lets machinery kiss the case during work," JJ said. "We have standards during disaster involving old bodies."
Rusuf cut again before the wheel finished settling.
This slice entered the wall at an angle. The ice split from inside, clean through the cloudy layers, and stopped before it reached the glass case. The hidden pin broke with a dull pop. The case shivered, and Ty felt the right wheel try to climb.
"Right wheel climbing toward JJ on the front side," Ty said. "The frame wants to tilt toward JJ right now."
JJ moved before he finished. She set her sword flat under the front guide and lifted with her knees rather than her back. The case settled with a hard click.
"Right wheel corrected by heroic workplace posture under pressure," JJ said. "I expect no compliments, only survival from anyone today."
"You have survival and one future complaint from me," Rusuf said. "Hold that exact height until I finish cutting."
Ty pressed harder with his good palm. The wrapped hand wanted to drop and help. He kept it high. Blood had stiffened the cloth, and the cold had made the knot feel like wire.
The old skull inside the case faced the wall.
Rusuf’s blade paused just before the final pin.
Ty noticed because the room noticed. The rail under his palm stopped vibrating. The case stopped trying forward. Even the meltwater seemed to run quieter under the wheels.
"Why did you stop with the pin half alive?" Blue asked. "The longer we hold this, the more the case argues."
Rusuf answered after one measured breath from beyond the wall.
"The last pin is threaded through the name latch," he said. "If I cut it wrong, the wall opens and the case loses its escort claim."
Ty looked at the old body through the glass.
The skull still faced the wall. The jaw rested in that narrow open place that kept looking like intention even when Ty knew better. The straps held. The case waited.
"What does the name latch want from our side?" Ty asked.
"Recognition before transfer from the escort side only," Rusuf said. "A worker latch, old and stubborn. Someone hid it behind the slicer bank."
JJ made a small sound through her teeth.
"Of course the murder wall has paperwork on ice," she said. "Rusuf, can you cut around paperwork like a decent person?"
"I can cut almost anything around paperwork when I have room," Rusuf said. "The problem is what the paperwork holds behind the latch."
Blue slid Marcus’s bit into the slot beside the front wheel. The bit tapped metal, then something softer behind it. She turned the handle and listened.
"There is a tag plate under the rail," Blue said. "It moves when the case shifts, but it stays shy of the slot."
"Can you pull it without moving the case?" Ty asked. "The rail listens better when the tag is near."
Blue gave him a look that deserved its own report.
"That question contains several terrible assumptions from a bleeding man," she said. "Unfortunately, one of them may be useful for once."
She hooked the bit under the tag plate and lifted. The plate rose half an inch and stopped. Frost broke around the edge. A name scratched into the metal caught the light from the sliced wall.
Rusuf spoke before anyone read it aloud from the other side of the wall.
"Do not say the name yet until I tell you," he said. "If the latch hears it from the wrong side, it may close."
JJ stared at the sliver of plate as if it might bite.
"The latch is picky about direction from the correct side," she said. "That is a sentence I resent understanding right now."
Ty felt the claimant mark pulse under the bandage.
The pulse moved toward the plate, then toward Rusuf’s blade, then back into the case. Three points, all close enough to matter. His hand hurt worse when he understood the route.
"It wants the name acknowledged from the escort side," Ty said. "Rusuf is on the cutting side. We are on the escort side."
"Then you say it from the escort side," Rusuf said. "I cut the pin after the latch hears you."
Blue lifted the tag plate higher with the bit under its edge.
The letters were shallow and half filled with ice, but Ty could read them.
The name on the plate was Kieran Stahl.
The name hit the cold room without needing volume.
Ty kept his voice steady anyway with effort and a sore throat.
"Escort side recognizes Kieran Stahl as the sealed body in the case," Ty said. "Transfer continues with living escort and no ownership."
The rail warmed under his palm as the latch listened.
The name latch clicked, and Rusuf cut through the final pin.
The final slice passed through the wall at the exact height of the hidden pin. Metal parted behind ice. The line widened. A slab of frozen wall separated from the seam and dropped inward on Rusuf’s side with a heavy thump.
The case stayed centered under Ty’s good hand.
JJ lowered her sword from the guide one inch at a time. Blue let the tag plate settle back under the rail. Ty kept his good hand on the frame until the wheels stopped trembling.
Rusuf stepped into view through the narrow opening.
He looked colder than Ty expected. Frost clung to the lower edge of his coat. His sword hand had a pale mark across the knuckles where the cold had bitten through skin. His face stayed composed, but the blade tip dipped a fraction before he corrected it.
"You look like the wall argued back through your coat," JJ said. "I hope you won with unreasonable terms attached."
"The wall lost three locks and kept most of my patience," Rusuf said. "That is a fair exchange for this building."
Ty looked past him through the sliced opening.
The route beyond looked nothing like a corridor. Brass tubes filled the other side from floor to ceiling, bundled in rows with old labels and cracked glass inspection windows. Small capsules sat in racks along the wall, each one shaped like a narrow metal shell with fins folded flat.
Air moved through the tubes in uneven pulls.
One capsule rattled against its rack as if something inside wanted out.
Blue stepped through the opening and looked up.
"This is a message chute built for pressure," Blue said. "A large one, but still mail by design."
"Air mail for tools, tags, and warnings during freezes," Rusuf said. "The old workers sent tools, tags, and warnings through pressure tubes when the rail froze."
JJ glanced at the case with visible dread.
"Please tell me we are sending a warning, not mailing the ancient body," she said. "I refuse to buy postage for that today."
Rusuf moved to the nearest rack and touched one capsule with the back of his blade.
"We send the rail a tool before the case moves," he said. "The next section has no floor under the first thirty feet."
The capsule released from the rack before Blue touched it.
Air yanked it into the tube with a metallic crack.
The tube above them shook hard enough to shed frost from every label.