But you're young, toggle-happy, and sitting in a bar filled almost exclusively with your colleagues. Your glasses frame every face around you with the quiet grey of a safe person, somebody with a low likelihood of violent crime. Perhaps you've had half a beer beer too many, but no more than that. You're curious about how well the thing works when you turn off the union's module and it falls back to the statistical system as originally sold by the West Coast nerds.

So you toggle off the union's overlay. Two thirds the grey frames become a pulsing red, your view nearly clouded with codes for records and extrapolations of all the usual sorts of violence. Your feel your pulse quicken with the sudden fear of the not unexpected, but a lifetime of practice helps you keep your expression calm. You've thrived, you've survived, through unceasing vigilance coupled with the appearance of selective sight.

Noticing your stress and the tactical situation, your glasses send an urgent backup request, together with a live feed of what they are showing you, to every fellow officer it can find near you.