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“So far,” Nutsbe said, “it hasn’t suddenly stopped functioning on any of us. It’s constructed for destructive environments if you will.”
“So I’d never need to pull out a map or equipment?” Halo asked. “I can see that being really useful, especially when the lighting conditions are suboptimal, or my hands are full like they were the day we were coming down the mountain with Mrs. Haze.”
“Exactly, the AI mapping could also have directed you down the easiest elevations. We’ve used them in some tight spots when having a minor distraction is dangerous. Night engagement with the enemy, or, in the case of close protection when things are feeling tense, and eyes are on a swivel.” Honey slid the shirt to the side, then pulled the electronic unit in its shockproof case in front of them. “This is your portable unit. Your shirt, with the vitals and GPS, are best run through the TOC.” He used the acronym for tactical operations center, pronounced “talk.” “But let’s say you were in an area without satellite coverage, be it weather or another interruption. The maps are all loaded into the computer in advance. The AI works on radio waves. It knows where you are and can continue to direct you. It’ll also feed the information to your phone as long as your phone is close by, so you can pull up maps to look at them and make decisions.”
“No visual on the handheld?”
“No. And that’s by design for security,” Honey explained. “If you and the handheld get separated.”
“Copy that.”
“But you’re on your own to remember to hydrate if you go off satellite,” Nutsbe said without looking away from his computer. “That won’t be on me.”
“Noted, thanks.”
“Thorn will get you up to speed with this once you’re on the ground. But since you’ll be dressing out in it as you head to the airport, I thought I’d give you a heads up about why your arms are getting a hug.”
“What happens if I don’t want to be directed?”
“The shirt will always keep track of your vitals,” Honey clarified. “So you wear the shirt while on duty. It will only direct you while a destination is programmed.”
“I programmed your route from here to Helsinki,” Nutsbe said. “So you can try it out. It will move you through the airports, and once on the ground, it will move you to Thorn. In the air, I have it turned off. That would get unnerving.”
Chapter Three
September Third
Haute Nendaz, Switzerland
Punching her pillow, then faceplanting into the center, Mary hoped the fluff would stifle her grunts.
They did not.
“Can’t sleep?” Deidre asked, her voice wide awake.
“Craziest thing. I couldn’t sleep on the plane, couldn’t sleep on the train.”
“I could not sleep here nor there. I could not sleep anywhere.” Deidre singsonged.
“Exactly. But when we finally got here, and I dragged my butt up to our room, I thought I’d pass out from the exhaustion.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
“An hour, maybe. What time is it at home?” She reached for her phone, scrolled to her world clock, and sighed. Her brain didn’t know if it was coming or going. “My skin is dry, my legs are cramping, I can’t sleep. In my mind, I sound like my mom did when she was bitching her way through menopause. And, frankly, I don’t wanna. I’m not ready to add insult to injury.”
“So said every woman who ever lived. I’m menopausal. You’re just dehydrated. That’s one nurse to another.”
“Yeah, that, and it’s almost ten p.m. at home. Coming off of two months of night shifts, my body thinks I should have been at work for the last three hours. I’d say I’m sorry I woke you, but obviously, you were trying to be quiet for me, too.”
Twelve years apart in age, Deidre and she had been fast friends since they’d supported each other through their pregnancies and beyond. Mary’s twins—Kaleb and Kyle—had been raised as a litter of rambunctious puppies along with Deidre’s son, Brady. Their husbands were on the same sub. So she and Deidre co-parented. It kept them sane. And, to Mary, it was better than having a sister. Both her sisters had childhood baggage they dragged into their adult relationships.
When Kaleb, Kyle, and Brady hit puberty the summer before freshman year of high school, overnight, it seemed, they were suddenly towering over their moms and already eyeing the door.
Their husbands came home from deployment and the writing was on the wall, the marriages weren’t working. A plan was developed: Once the boys started high school, the wives should get college degrees, learning something that could put food on their own table and a roof over their heads. Since neither man wanted to go back to school for their own degrees, why didn’t the women use the GI benefits? Then, things could come to a natural ending, and everyone could go on their way. The men would try on a different kind of life, and the women would have what they needed to enter the job market and support themselves.
That discussion had been a shock to Mary, who, up until that summer, had believed in her vows.
It also seemed exhaustingly inevitable.