NASK

Although we were wearing them on top of our regular clothes, it was comfortable. The only places where it touched my skin were on my hands and neck. It was very soft but seemed to move when I moved — like it was alive.

“So, how do we take it off?” I asked.

“Mask first.” Arya demonstrated and Kimberly and I followed. “Pinch your chin and apply pressure to the underside to release it. Then pull each side of your chin at the same time. Tuck it in either wrist.”

“Next, squeeze under both armpits  at the same time, before pulling at both shoulders at the same time.” She demonstrated.

When I pulled under both arms, I could feel the back of the suit relax a little. When I pulled at the shoulders, the suit snapped back to the shrunken size again.

“Now just ball it up.” She demonstrated again. When she did it formed into a perfect ball again.

“Remarkable,” I said as I did it. “How does that work?”

We began to walk back toward the entrance ramp, and Arya threw her ball into a bin near the ramp.

“It’s made of Nano Assisted Scaled Kevlar — NASK for short. It has an outer layer of scales and an inner layer that work together to prevent penetration of foreign materials, like sharps and projectiles. It is water tight and has a kinetic energy powered network between the two layers. There are contact points between the fingers, under the arms, and under the chin for connecting to devices. Your mobile phone has been charging since you put on the suit.” She smiled. “It is alive, in a way, as a network of computerized nanobots.”

Mo was still wearing his whole suit, twisting and turning, squeezing and hitting himself. Kimberly had removed her mask and was looking at it closely.

Mo asked, “How do I get to my phone? It’s in my pocket under my suit.” He sounded like our friend and Mtumishi.

“You’d have to take the suit off to get to anything you had on you. You can activate your phone’s voice commands the usual way. With iPhones say ‘Hey Siri’, with Windows, ‘Hey Cortana’, with android ‘Ok Google’. It works through your suit. With your mask on you have a built-in headset and we can communicate with each other or Mtumishi any time.”

Kimberly asked, “How did you get all this stuff?”

“A few of these are my own inventions. I worked with some of my classmates at MIT to develop some. A few I ‘acquired’ from government research and development agencies around the world. Mtumishi monitors communications for technological innovation, acquires the data, and analyzes viability. It alerts me to those reaching our viability threshold. Often we can work out the kinks, enhancements, and production before they do.”

“So you stole it,” said Kimberly.

Arya smiled. “Technically.”

“So do we get a bat car, spider webs, jet pack…?” Mo asked.

“You’ll have lots of toys as needed. God told me, ‘What we need to know, we will know.  What we need to do, we will be able to do. What we need to have I will prepare for your use.'”

“That’s what our friend told us before — except for the ‘what we need to have’ part,” I explained.

Just then a monitor descended from the ceiling near the ramp. In one image was an aerial view of Arya’s property extending our a few blocks. There were five smaller images that must have come from the sentry — they appeared to show a 360° view of the back yard. Another five appeared to be a grouping from another sentry — one we hadn’t seen in the front yard. The edge of the center panel was flashing green and we could see a UPS delivery person approaching the front door. A small box on the bottom of the screen moved up and expanded to show a view from the front door out to the front yard as the delivery person approached with a package.

“Excuse me a minute,” Arya said. “Comm 3, Mtumishi.”

“Comm 3, Arya,” responded Mtumishi, followed by a beep.

“Thank you, Steve,” Arya said. The UPS guy looked up, smiled, and said, “You’re welcome, ma’am.”

We watched as he hurried away, then a robot appeared from the other side of the warehouse with the package. It placed it along the wall by the monitor, then returned.

Mo said, “Very cool,” still sounding like our friend.