Back in her van, she set the matchbox on her workbench and opened it with gloved fingers. There were no screws — the case slid open along a seam with a click, like a book revealing a single thin page. The interior was a busy miniaturized world: a wafer of silicon, copper threads etched like city maps, and a tiny LED that blinked in irregular beats. When she topped the device with a battery and a loner cable, a hollow synthetic voice spilled from the speaker.