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"Meaning I'm not as tall and can't shoot as well, but I see the big picture and can tell you where to pass."
"No, that's basketball," said Cat.
"But you compared this to basketball. Point guard, right?"
"It was an analogy, Cole," said Cat. "We're not in the army anymore. We're all free agents. But when we play together, the team needs a leader just the same, and you're it."
"And you bring me in last."
Cat grinned. "Need to know, man."
"And you're not last," said Mingo. "These are all we've got in the loop right now. Babe, Drew, Benny, they've been out of town a lot, no time to learn it. We haven't even told Babe about it—he's all over India, trying to learn how to improve their advertising methods."
Cat imitated Babe's voice. "Just put a naked woman in the ad. Not your mother! A young woman. A beautiful woman."
"It's worth working on, don't you think?"
"Just one problem," said Cole. "What does an EMP do to this stuff?"
"What?" asked Mingo.
"An electromagnetic pulse," said Cole. "Like the thing Aldo Verus used to bring down two planes when his people took over New York City."
"I know what an EMP is," said Mingo. "But it took a howitzer-size piece of equipment. You think you're going to face an enemy that has one of those tucked under his arm?"
"I don't know what we're going to face. I'm just saying."
"EMP devices are like poison gas," said Mingo. "Anybody who uses it has to figure it'll get used against him."
"But what if we face an enemy that doesn't have any high-tech stuff for an EMP to affect?" asked Cole.
"Well, the EMP device would be a high-tech device, right?" asked Load. "If they've got no electronics, the EMP would be one of the electronics they ain't got none of."
Cole grinned. "Worst-case scenario?"
Cat gave an Elvis sneer. "Worst case, man, is me putting this foot deep inside your proctological zone."
"Do these exos come off so easy if their electronics are fried? Or do you have to fight your way out of them while somebody's shooting at you?"
Load gave a command to shut down the exo he was wearing. Then he flipped the shoulder bar forward and gave it a sharp twist one way, then the other. His exoskeleton collapsed like a rag doll. "It's got a mechanical solution, too," said Mingo.
"By the way," said Cat, "we been calling them 'Bones' and 'Noodles,' on account of it taking longer to say 'exoskeleton' and 'electronically enhanced command helmet.'"
"I'm sold," said Cole. "I'll order a hundred thousand of them."
"Fully operational by 2015, at that number," said Mingo.
"But eight, for now," said Cole. "Unless you're adding somebody else to the team."
"Eight was good enough for Rube," said Cat. "And it was good enough for you, too, during the civil war. Don't see any reason to change."
"If Jesus could have trained his apostles better," said Mingo, "he wouldn't have needed twelve."
"Eight is enough," said Arty. "Who knew?"
"Unlike you lazy retired guys," said Cole, "I have to go to work in the morning. I also have to arrange the time off to train with you. Can I get back to you about all that?"
"Of course," said Mingo. "You'd better start biking home about now. I suggest cutting over to Highway 28 and taking that north to Dulles. Unless your buddy Little Potus is willing to send you air transport. Or, I guess, your own special train."
