CALAIS HANDED ALICE OFF TO a sequential chain of three different people in uniforms — all men, as Alice had figured, even in the modern army — before she ended up in the custody of two MPs (one blessedly a woman, though she was the most stone-faced and least friendly of the five). The MPs asked Alice for her reserve guest permit and, when she said she didn’t have one, sent her back two people up the chain to an annoyed-looking man with thinning hair who seemed to have thought he was done with her. The man acted like the mistake was her fault, asked Alice to sign her name on a tablet after pretending to read something far too long and legalese to actually be read, then stamped something onto her hand.
This all seemed to be a terrible inconvenience. At first, Alice thought she’d received a hand stamp like kids got for reentry to a fair, but it turned out to be an implanted GPS chip. “You’re hotter than the rest of them, so we’d find you regardless,” the annoyed-looking man said.
Alice figured he was hitting on her until she saw him enter something into a computer and realized “hotter” referred to body temperature and “we” referred, at least in part, to satellite tracking. This finished, he waved a small device, like a cell phone, over her hand, and its screen flashed green. Alice, unimpressed with the stamp-as-permit, asked sarcastically why he didn’t just give her a bright plastic wristband like they do at water parks. The man didn’t realize it was a joke. He said, “We used to, but it just gave them something more to grab onto.”
Once her pass was apparently in place and her duty was duly logged, the man sent Alice back to the MPs. They must have been waiting specifically for her because they seemed annoyed by the delay as well.
Alice looked from the female MP to the man. The woman was larger, stronger looking, and generally more impressive. Both wore two weapons, one on each hip. On the right for both was some sort of handgun. On the other side, where she was used to seeing other utility-belt peripherals on civilian cops (handcuffs, pepper spray, maybe something to summon the Batmobile or hold screwdrivers and pliers), was an apparatus that resembled a length of pipe. If pipes had triggers.
Before Alice could ask (she was the reporter here, after all), the female MP, who had the surname Hayes stitched on her breast, gestured through a door and nudged Alice to follow the other MP, seemingly named Burrows. In the room beyond, they found a large depot space filled with vehicles. Most were ordinary army Jeeps, but a few were specially reinforced carriers Alice had never seen despite her extensive coverage of disease and cure.
“We’ll be in this Jeep here, Ms. Frank,” Hayes said, opening the rear door. “Watch your head.”
Alice looked up. She was watching her head so she didn’t hit the roll bar, not the door frame. But there was barely a half door, and almost no top.
“The vehicles are open?”
“Safari practice, ma’am. We’ll be traveling mostly empty land and sat recon shows it mostly free of deadheads. There may be some in the bushes, but that’s likely the worst of it.”
“And for those in the bushes?”
“Easier to shoot without encumbrances, ma’am. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried. I’m — ”
“Did Colonel Calais tell you roller coaster rules?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Keep your hands and legs and head inside the vehicle at all times,” Burrows recited, “lest you get them bitten off.”
Hayes reached across to buckle Alice into the seat like an infant. Her long-sleeved undershirt shifted, and Alice found herself staring at an old wound on the woman’s neck. There were suture lines around the wound as if the thing had been stitched, but the whole area had the look of something deflated, like rotted fruit. The skin was still gray and soft looking despite the wound clearly being years old.
“I apologize if I’m being overly personal,” Alice asked, “but do you mind if I ask you a question?”
The woman saw where Alice was looking, shifted her shirt to re-cover the wound, and straightened to full height before closing the door with Alice inside.
“It’s not a problem, ma’am.”