Tamara and Monique are bunkered in together

Tamara was lying next to Monique in her bunk. The beds were too small for two - intentionaly- but they made due with discomfort as there was very little communal space.

Monique was reading. She enjoyed having nothing to do. It was like how she lived before becoming a soldier, except without having to fear getting raided- this was a vacation for her. She wasn't a fast reader but she wasn't brothered by the constant screaming or gunshots or helicopters.

She was unbothered, even, by Tamara who was always moving. Without looking up Monique spoke.

"What are you doing today"

"Tinkering. What about you?" came the slightly-more-excited-than-usual reply.

"Reading."

Silence returned momentarily.

"Yeah so I'm currently working on some explosives"

"Is that so?" Monique was unphased

"I've abandoned the heat detector, they're too expensive to make. See, we don't need to trick them because they're curious, and I think a switch or button would work and as soon as they press it boom!"

"What if they ignore it?"

"Well I'll put some woman-smell on the button or something." Tamara tried to pick up a screw she'd lost. Finished the prototype and put it on a shelf.

The sleeping pods were comfortable, they had a door that would close, a shelf, and a reading light. They could be personalised, somewhat. But once they were done with they would be airlifted away and incinerated, like with all of the instant baracks.

Tamara liked being close to Monique. Touch was almost taboo, she felt, as the paranoia of infection was a constant.