Lana tucked the micro in her pocket and crossed to it.
She had no micro, no genetically engineered body or weapons to fight off anything that came at them.
She needed her micro and the vault.
He removed the micro from her hands and took her injured wrist.
Lankha worked his magic with his micro suede-covered hands and gentle touch.
Brady entered the code from his micro onto the keypad beside the metal door in front of him.
She punched the message closed and forwarded it to her micro before deleting it.
With some dread, she hunched her shoulders to keep anyone from looking at her micro and opened those from Mr. Tim.
She checked the status of the systems from her micro and downed dehydrated meal bars and anti-sleepers.
She carried little else than the lockbox, her micro, and enough meal supps and anti-sleepers for two weeks.
He gave the coordinates to Dan and replaced the micro in his pocket.
She only needed to regain the micro and vault.
She sat back in the low couch and ate her meal bars, mind going to the micro in his pocket.
He tucked the micro under his pillow, returning his intense gaze to her.
He withdrew the micro and handed it to her.
"I won't know without my micro," she replied in a clipped tone.
He reached into his pocket and withdrew the micro and Horsemen, holding them out to her.
One of these is micro-lending, which directly connects the lender with the borrower and which the Internet has made appealingly easy and personal.
Lankha's hands were covered in what felt like soft, feathery, cool micro-suede.
Lana programmed her micro quickly to mirror the messages and set it to work decrypting the encoding.
She waited for him to leave then checked her micro, which was still working on decrypting his encoded messages.
She set one keypad on her micro, waiting for it to read the serial.
Lana glanced at her micro, which still worked on breaking through his messages.
He handed her a bag with her micro and her personal vault.
She shook her head and walked out of the bay into the foyer, tucking the micro and vault into her pockets.
Everything looked quiet, until she checked her micro again and saw that the decryption program had begun popping up the messages that had been repressed in the comms system.
It was one of many messages her micro had decoded.
She looked at her micro and read another of General Greene's messages.
He tossed her micro, pills, and a vault half the size of his hand on the pillows near him.
Brady pulled her micro from his cargo pocket and approached her with a controlled, slow gate, much like that of a stalking lion.
She jumped at his tone and took the micro in shaking hands.
She held her breath, slipped her hand into the pocket, and pulled the micro free.
He held up her micro, watching her face.
She itched to have her micro again, to look at the logs and hack into whatever she could to find the answers.
She'd paid her one night with Brady and still didn't have her micro or the vault.
He pulled her micro free from his cargo pocket and set it on the coffee table beside the keypad.
Lana flipped on her micro and placed the keypad on top of it.
He should've known better than not to warn Dan what Lana could do if she got a hold of a micro, even if it was Elise's.
She turned off her micro and rose, striding into the bedroom.
Elise's micro was locked out.
She pulled her micro free and rested her wet thumb against it until the screen unlocked; it worked.
She pulled her micro free again and looked for the nearest emerops.
She pulled out her micro to see what had happened along this stretch.
Lana replaced the micro, looking anew at the green cars and their silent occupants.
She chewed her lip as she watched the micro map multiple routes, gauging how much food and water she'd have to carry to survive.
The nurse smiled again and studied the micro in her hand, which monitored his vitals.
They didn't find the Horsemen or her micro either?
There was no body, no micro, and no Horsemen.
I think where she is, so is her micro and the Horsemen.
And I need a micro with all emerops facilities between Tennessee and Colorado marked.
Brady focused on the micro, trying to figure out where Lana might've gone.
Lana gazed at the micro on a table, hesitating.
She tucked the micro away and returned to the foyer.
She changed and placed her micro and vault into her pockets then followed Kelli out of the warehouse, through the front office space and into the street.
She could see nothing in her micro beyond the River.
With the help of local agencies around the world that have experience in micro-loans, a would-be borrower—say, a fish seller in the Philippines—uploads a picture and an explanation of what she wants the loan for.
Micro-lending is not new; the idea of small loans to the entrepreneurial poor is centuries old.
But micro-lending via the Internet is different.
"Check your micro," Brady said.
An alert popped up on the screen before her as well as on her micro, and she opened it.
Her micro was bright with an alert.
Her micro and the vault were missing.
He took the micro and turned away from her.
If she could get the micro and the vault, she could escape.
The micro would allow her to map a route west, and she could put on his tactical clothing and mask and leave the tent.
All your fancy training won't … Lana half-listened to Elise's lecture, thinking about how she could hack into her micro with Elise's.
The micro was finished decrypting the messages.