Herald gave them a tour of the staging area, leading them around from place to place and pointing out every cluster of tents. Of course the entourage of reporters followed along behind, Mindy Ming included. They saw the inside of a typical tent, in which squads of marines were housed on small inflatable mattresses. They were shown the primitive latrine facilities where the marines took care of their bodily functions. They walked through the mess hall, which was full of empty tables and filled with the smell of dinner being constructed. Finally they were led to the staging area itself.

A large guarded reinforced tent housed the marine equipment. Herald led them past two armed guards out front and into the interior, which was mostly a huge locker room. Rows of gray plastic storage cabinets sat before rows of plastic benches. The smell was that of locker rooms solar system wide; of stale sweat and dirty clothing.

"It is in here," Herald explained, "where the marines under my command change into the biosuits which allow them to operate outside of the pressurization of the city. The biosuits are completely self-contained and supply oxygen, food paste, water, and even excretory containers for the soldiers wearing them. With the supply carried within the suit the soldier can stay outside the safety of this artificial environment for twelve hours at a time. The suits are somewhat bulky of course but modern WestHem engineering and manufacturing have managed to keep the fully loaded weight down to less than forty kilograms. That is five kilograms less, I might add, than the standard EastHem biosuit. This weight advantage, which translates into increased mobility in the field and the ability to carry more equipment, is but one advantage that my soldiers have over their EastHem counterparts."

He then led them to the other side of the room, towards another guarded opening to the tent. This one led to the park's exit and the wide, heavily traveled 3^rd Street, a major downtown movement corridor.