"You'll have to convince me that resurrecting that damned, traitorous collection of spare parts is going to get us somewhere," Spratly said. "I don't trust that machine. I don't trust any of "em."
Jaime hesitated at the door. "I understand, sir. Still, we're going to have to trust sometime, or we might as wellplan on spending the rest of our lives, what's left of'em, right here in the mud."
He stepped outside, then, into the dazzling sunsshine of the late afternoon.
CHAPTER FOUR
Shari Barstowe remained a few paces behind Jaime as they approached the looming Bolo. They'd left the Camp shortly after the evening meal, sneaking out through the sewage ditch and making their laborious way up the eastern slope of Overlook Hill, moving slowly, always on the alert for !*!*! machines or sensors.
Now, at last, nearly an hour later, they stood once more on the small, sharp-edged ridge of bones, fifty meters from the huge, metallic beast. She shuddered. She still hadn't adjusted, quite, to the unexpected reprieve. For a moment, she considered shoving past Jaime and into the Bolo's killing ground, deliberately challenging the monster and calling down a swift and painless death.
But... no. Quite apart from the fact that she didn't want to risk killing Jaime as well, she found, almost to her surprise, that she wanted to live again.
"Halt," the Bolo said in human, yet disturbingly uninflected, tones. AP weapons ports snickered open, the muzzles tracking them in the darkness. "Identify yourself."
"Major Jaime Graham and Technician Barstowe,
60
BOLO RISING
61
First Armored Assault Brigade, Cloud Defense Force," Graham said.
"Present code authorization."
"Authorization Code Tango three-three-seven Victor Delta niner. Maintenance."
"This unit is not scheduled for standard maintenance."
"Override Security Alpha, Code Delta Echo One-one."
"Advance, Major Graham and Technician Barstowe."
"Is its challenge speech always the same?" she asked Jaime as they stepped off the bones and began walking across the blasted, open hilltop toward the machine.
"Always." Gravel crunched beneath their sore, bare feet. "You know, before the invasion, talking to Hector was like talking to another person. Now, hell, my calculator had more personality, back when I had a calculator."
"It sounds as though its working memory has been constricted, somehow," she said. "The base holomem settings may need to be reentered."
"Where would you do that?"
"From the main computer access terminal. That's inside Hector's control room."
"Huh. Old Hector isn't about to let us go in there. Not like this, anyway."
They stood directly in front of the Bolo now, looking up at the smooth, back-slanting slope of its front armor, what Jaime called its "glacis." The rounded forward turret with its stubby, ominous-looking Hellbore mount was just visible protruding above the top of the cliff, some eighty feet above the ground.
