Put himself up too.
“Surprise that she’s coming?” McNally asked.
“Not a surprise, no,” Danny said. “You have a handle on things?”
“Boss, you can take off for the next few months as far as I’m concerned. You earned it.”
“Thanks, Billy.” He tapped his radio and then his beeper, wordlessly telling his lieutenant to call if needed, then headed toward the handheld-weapons lab.
Annie Klondike sat hunched over a desk, starting at a small, liver-shaped piece of metal. Her think white hair had been pulled back into a tight ball, enhancing her school-marm look.
“Hey, Annie, whatcha got going?” asked Danny.
“Hmmmpphhhh,” she said without looking up.
Danny bent over and inspected the metal. “New explosive?”
“Hardly.” She pushed herself up from the chair. “You’ll want your helmet, I suppose.”
“If its convenient.”
“Convenient? Captain, you’ve added a new word to your vocabulary.”
“I even used it in a sentence,” said Freah.
“I’d be curious as to your definition,” she said, beginning her shuffle toward one of the back areas. “We took the liberty of adding upgrades,” said Annie, opening the door to a storage closet. “Try the vest first.”
The carbon-boron vest that Danny pulled over his chest was no thicker than a good-quality goose-down ski vest, and weighed nearly the same. The side that nestled against his ribs had a crinkly feel; pressing it against his side felt a little like squishing the Styrofoam of a packing peanut.
“What’s the cushion?”
“Styrated aluminum,” said Klondike. “Actually a carbonized alloy, but mostly aluminum.”
“Aluminum?”
“It bears only a passing resemblance to the material used in soda cans, Captain, not to worry,” said Annie. “I’m told a bullet from a M60E1 at five yards won’t leave a bruise, though I haven’t found a volunteer willing to demonstrate.”
“Does the next upgrade come with a built-in nurse?”
“Your helmet is this way,” said the weapons expert tartly. “Have I ever told you, you have a big head?”
“All the time.”
Danny’s smart helmet and its connected Combat Information Visor included a display shield with Video, low-light, infrared, and radiation-detection modes. When plugged into its com modules—these were generally carried in a small pack on the wearer’s back or belt—it could tie into Dreamland’s secure satellite communications system. But that system required coordination back at Dreamland, as well as being in line of sight of the satellite—fine in some situations, not in others. Team members on the ground communicated through a discrete-mode unit that was also line-of-sight—again, fine in some situations but not in others.
“We have bowed to popular demand and added a standard radio link,” announced Annie. “I would caution you: The encryption is merely based on a 128-byte key on a random skip; it can be broken easily.”
“By anyone outside of the NSA and Dreamland?”
Annie smiled—slightly. “A simple beacon detector could be used to locate the transmissions, which, as requested, have a range of five miles. We are looking at a complementary-wave transmitter that would interfere with the transmissions beyond an operator-specified range, but alas, it remains to be perfected.”
“This’ll do,” said Danny. “It beats having to stand up under fire.”
“I imagine it would.”
Danny took the new helmet and fit it onto his head. it felt just like the old one—way too tight and far too heavy.
“Yes, I know,” said Klondike, sighing though Danny hadn’t said anything. “We balance function and utility. We are scientists of the possible, Captain. If we could shave off another pound while not giving up protection or functionality, we gladly would.”
“You’ll get it right, Annie,” he said.
“Hmmmph. The shape-recognition program is finally operational and so we have added it. It defaults to ‘on.’ I find it annoying myself, though the weapons detector is useful.”
“If we can trust it,” said Danny.
“Yes. Well, Captain, you’ve seen the tests yourself.” The device used pattern recognition to check shapes in the screen against a library of weapons and “suspicious polygons.” It was excellent against the obvious—like tanks and artillery pieces—but tended to be overly suspicious about things like bulges in pants and pockets. On IR mode, however, it could tell the difference between a toy gun and the real thing, which was potentially valuable in certain situations.
“Let’s go test the targeting screen,” said Annie. There was almost a suppressed cackle in her voice as she said that, and Danny knew he’d find a surprise in the weapons locked at the firing range. Sure enough, the weapons scientist presented him with a new gun.
“Silenced MP-5,” he said admiringly, taking it from her hands.
“Hardly,” said Annie. “Try it.”
Danny studied the stubby wire at the end. On the other systems that worked with the visor targeting system, a thin wire ran from the gun to his helmet.
“No, there’s no connection. Just point it at the target and shoot,” insisted Annie.
As Danny pointed the business end of the German submachine gun down the alley, crosshairs appeared in the middle of his visor.