I wondered why our call signs weren’t printed on our badges, but then it occurred to me that the EDA probably didn’t want any of its recruits walking around with handles like “Slomosexual” or “PercyJackoff69” printed onto their official identification cards.
The corporal reached under the counter and handed me a small handheld device that resembled an extra-thick smartphone—the same sort of device I’d seen Ray and his two companions using during the shuttle ride here. The device was inside a protective case with a thick Velcro wrist strap attached to the back, which the corporal used to fasten the device to my right forearm, like an oversized wristwatch.
“This is your QComm,” he explained. “It’s a Quantum Communicator—basically a smartphone with unlimited range. It will work anywhere in the world—or in outer space.” He smiled. “They also have insanely fast Internet access and Bluetooth capability. I already imported all of your contacts, photos, and music from your iPhone, so you’re all set up.”
I pulled my iPhone from the front pocket of my jeans. It still had no signal, and the battery was about to die. “How the hell were you able to do that?”
“Don’t worry,” the corporal said, ignoring my question. “Your QComm is far more secure—and versatile.” He tapped its display. “It’s like an iPhone, a tricorder, and a small laser pistol, all rolled into one device.”
“Whoa, seriously?” I unsnapped it from my wrist to examine it more closely.
“Yeah,” the corporal said, smiling proudly. “I’m sort of like Q in the James Bond films. Except, you know, I only get to hand out this one thing.”
I turned the QComm over in my palm, trying to accept that I was holding a piece of reverse-engineered alien technology. I tapped the touchscreen and it lit up, displaying a large collection of icons. Email, Internet, GPS, and what looked like a normal phone dialer, along with other applications I didn’t recognize.
“Can I can call home with this?” I asked.
“Not yet,” the corporal replied. “Your QComm’s outside phone and Internet access will remain disabled until the big news goes public later today. But you’re already connected to the EDA’s quantum network, so you can call any other QComm in existence, if you have its contact code. Your code is printed on the back of the case.”
I flipped it over in my hands and saw a ten-digit number etched onto the case. Ray pulled out his own QComm and touched the edge of his device to mine. I heard a soft electronic ding, and Ray’s name and number appeared on my QComm’s contact list.
“Now you can call me anytime, from anywhere,” he said. “Even from the opposite side of the galaxy.” He laughed an unsettling little laugh. “Not that it’s likely to happen.”
I gazed down at the QComm. It was hinged along one side, like a flip phone, and it opened up into what looked like a portable gaming device, with another display screen on top and a game controller beneath it, with two thumb-pads and six lettered buttons.
“What, can I play Sonic the Hedgehog on this thing, too?”
“Actually, yes,” the corporal said. “Your QComm also doubles as a portable drone-control platform. In emergency situations, it can be used to control an Interceptor, an ATHID, or any of our other drones.” He lowered his voice, as if imparting a secret. “They’re a real bitch to use, though. Take a lot of practice.”
Still leaning forward conspiratorially, the corporal whispered, “Each one also has a built in weirding module.” He raised his own QComm and crossed his wrists as he held it out in front of him. “By using sound and motion, you will be able to paralyze nerves, shatter bones, set fires, suffocate an enemy, or burst his organs.”
I laughed out loud.
“That’s the first weirding module joke I’ve ever heard,” I said. “Bravo.”
“There were no weirding modules in the original Dune books, you know,” Ray muttered, shaking his head. “David Lynch made that shit up.”
“So what, Ray?” I said, feeling like we were back at the store. “They’re cool as hell. I’m not saying it makes up for that super-creepy heart-plug scene—”
Seemingly all business again, the corporal spoke. “You should be all set,” he said. “Your QComm’s laser is currently disabled, but your commanding officer will activate it after you enlist.”
“If I enlist,” I said. “They still haven’t even told me who or what is invading us.”
“Right,” he said, shooting Ray a surprised look. “Anyway, the laser will drain your battery after three or four shots, so if you have to use it, try to do so sparingly.”
“Got it,” I told the corporal. “So I’m all set?
“Yes sir,” he replied. “Good to go.”
We all saluted each other again instead of waving goodbye; then the corporal remained at attention as we walked out of sight. I followed Ray through a pair of automatic doors into another downward-sloping hallway.