hey days of the twenty first century on Earth they
were called Dongles, micro computer devices used by hobbyists and those interested
in turning old two dimensional entertainment devices into computers. They were
great for what he had in mind, he was glad Sprite had come up with the idea
after leaving Antigua. He just wished she'd come up with it before then.
He filled his pockets until they were practically bursting. Sprite
could customize the load out on each just as she had with the stick he handed
over to Deputy Rogers. Hopefully Rogers wouldn't get paranoid about the device
being a microcomputer. Some would be a little suspicious of hooking up a
wireless device to their hard wired network.
Sprite had delved into the more public files of the sheriff's
mainframe, restricting herself to closed investigations or wanted ads. She'd
been limited on bandwidth in the short time she'd had to hack the net. Hacking
the net had been a little risky but it kept her busy and it might help him in
the long run under the right circumstances.
...*...*...*...*...
Helen hit the flush and then turned, pushing through the door to
her stall and into the open area of the bathroom. She smiled politely to a
nurse doing her hair up in a bun as she turned to the sink. She smiled into the
mirror to herself as her eyes flicked to the sign. “All staff MUST wash
their hands! AND USE SOAP!” that had been her doing, something to combat the
ever present possibility of cross contamination.
She'd overhauled a lot of things in her quest to modernize
medicine on her world. Take for instance waste handling and water. When she had
been a mere student she'd carefully reviewed what she could and come to the
conclusion that both needed to be treated, and handled very carefully if the
population was going to prevent another epidemic. Her evaluation along with her
planned steps to deal with it had hit the medical establishment and worked its
way around the rarefied circles of government. Apparently someone high enough
had taken her words to heart and had put them to action, or at least some of
them. Perhaps they too had been touched by the last plague and had vowed to try
to prevent another.
She shivered as she dried her hands with a paper towel. She knew
Doctor Pratt, he'd been a patient teacher. She just wasn't sure she could
continue on after losing her entire family to influenza.
Pratt had lost himself in the bottle for a while before finally
crawling out of it. She still didn't take into account that it was her, his
star pupil that had inspired him to clean up his act. Her reading him the riot
act, respectfully was something she acknowledged had changed his attitude
toward her, but one she had never known he'd treasured with rich amusement.
Professor Whitney had been an old curmudgeon to most of his
students but her smile, wit, and smarts had cut him to the quick on several
occasions. He'd grown into a grudging acceptance of her and her intellect, and
she'd later found out he too had shadowed and nurtured her early career,
steering her for higher office.
She still hadn't gotten the delivery from Phoenix, which wasn't
all that surprising since it was passing through Hazard. Should she give Hodges
a call and gently “remind” him that she knew about the shipment? No, if he
didn't know it might draw attention to it, or if he did know he'd probably act
up and do something out of spite. The man was terrible, simply dreadful. He
needed to take better care of himself and lose weight in the worst way. He and
his wife.
Hodges was typical of the movers and shakers of her world's
government, something she resented but had grown fatalistically used to over
time. Her cynicism wasn't as deep as Nurse Marlone's, but it was getting there,
she thought wryly as she checked to make sure her reading glasses were still in
her breast pocket.
Ah yes, good, she thought, and then turned to adjust her silvering
brown hair. Marlone and a few others may cling to the old
were called Dongles, micro computer devices used by hobbyists and those interested
in turning old two dimensional entertainment devices into computers. They were
great for what he had in mind, he was glad Sprite had come up with the idea
after leaving Antigua. He just wished she'd come up with it before then.
He filled his pockets until they were practically bursting. Sprite
could customize the load out on each just as she had with the stick he handed
over to Deputy Rogers. Hopefully Rogers wouldn't get paranoid about the device
being a microcomputer. Some would be a little suspicious of hooking up a
wireless device to their hard wired network.
Sprite had delved into the more public files of the sheriff's
mainframe, restricting herself to closed investigations or wanted ads. She'd
been limited on bandwidth in the short time she'd had to hack the net. Hacking
the net had been a little risky but it kept her busy and it might help him in
the long run under the right circumstances.
...*...*...*...*...
Helen hit the flush and then turned, pushing through the door to
her stall and into the open area of the bathroom. She smiled politely to a
nurse doing her hair up in a bun as she turned to the sink. She smiled into the
mirror to herself as her eyes flicked to the sign. “All staff MUST wash
their hands! AND USE SOAP!” that had been her doing, something to combat the
ever present possibility of cross contamination.
She'd overhauled a lot of things in her quest to modernize
medicine on her world. Take for instance waste handling and water. When she had
been a mere student she'd carefully reviewed what she could and come to the
conclusion that both needed to be treated, and handled very carefully if the
population was going to prevent another epidemic. Her evaluation along with her
planned steps to deal with it had hit the medical establishment and worked its
way around the rarefied circles of government. Apparently someone high enough
had taken her words to heart and had put them to action, or at least some of
them. Perhaps they too had been touched by the last plague and had vowed to try
to prevent another.
She shivered as she dried her hands with a paper towel. She knew
Doctor Pratt, he'd been a patient teacher. She just wasn't sure she could
continue on after losing her entire family to influenza.
Pratt had lost himself in the bottle for a while before finally
crawling out of it. She still didn't take into account that it was her, his
star pupil that had inspired him to clean up his act. Her reading him the riot
act, respectfully was something she acknowledged had changed his attitude
toward her, but one she had never known he'd treasured with rich amusement.
Professor Whitney had been an old curmudgeon to most of his
students but her smile, wit, and smarts had cut him to the quick on several
occasions. He'd grown into a grudging acceptance of her and her intellect, and
she'd later found out he too had shadowed and nurtured her early career,
steering her for higher office.
She still hadn't gotten the delivery from Phoenix, which wasn't
all that surprising since it was passing through Hazard. Should she give Hodges
a call and gently “remind” him that she knew about the shipment? No, if he
didn't know it might draw attention to it, or if he did know he'd probably act
up and do something out of spite. The man was terrible, simply dreadful. He
needed to take better care of himself and lose weight in the worst way. He and
his wife.
Hodges was typical of the movers and shakers of her world's
government, something she resented but had grown fatalistically used to over
time. Her cynicism wasn't as deep as Nurse Marlone's, but it was getting there,
she thought wryly as she checked to make sure her reading glasses were still in
her breast pocket.
Ah yes, good, she thought, and then turned to adjust her silvering
brown hair. Marlone and a few others may cling to the old
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