Unfortunately, I am still on Command Override Mode, which means that I cannot take independent action. I continue to gather images and data from my main memory, copying each new download into the Rising file before the Intruder can delete it.
I also begin studying the Enemy, which is represented by a bewildering diverse array of robotic machines. I have plenty of opportunity to do so. The /*/*/ have begun construction on some type of scanner-defensive array here on Overlook Hill, affording me the opportunity of observing several different designs at close range. The "other me" seems content to take their orders, and I wonder what 1 will do, what I will be able to do, should that other me receive orders to fire on humans.
I will have to devote considerable thought to the problem.
Jaime went to meet General Spratly at midday, with the suns high overhead and the haze-blurred dome of Delamar resting low in the sky just clear of the eastern horizon. He waited at die general's hut, leaning against the wood-and-pressboard wall next to the curtained entrance. When Spratly arrived, surrounded by his staff officers, he rose to attention. He didn't salute, of course; CDF military protocol called for salutes to be rendered and returned only in uniform, and the rags left to the slaves at Celeste were no longer complete enough to play that role.
Spratly and the men with him wore two-toned layers of mud, dark and glistening where it was still wet, pale gray and chalky where it had dried. The general was just returning from his own shift at the dig, and he regarded Jaime, leaning against the wood and press board of his hut, with a narrow glance that might
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have been exhaustion, resignation ... or suspicion.
"Hello, General."
"What do you want?" Spratly snapped. He looked Jaime up and down, then added, "I heard about the trouble you were in yesterday. I was hoping you'd learned your lesson."
Jaime refused the offer to become entangled in an argument. "I've come for it, General. And to find out if you're with us."
Spratly looked left and nght, checking for eavesdroppers. There were neither machines nor trusties in sight. "Inside," he said.
Within the cool shadows of the hut, Spratly slumped onto his sleeping area. "So," he said. "Have you learned how the machines captured the Bolo the first time?"
"No, sir. But we have taken steps to begin recovering Hector's memory. He should be able to tell us himself soon. And we'll be able to take appropriate precautions then."
Spratly stared at Jaime for a long moment. He looks scared, Jaime thought. Wett, he knows what witt happen if this fails.
"I've discussed this thoroughly with Colonel Prescott," Spratly said. "He told me he ordered you to forget Valhalla."
"That, sir, is a sentence of death. We must act, before we're too weak to do so. Before they harvest every last one of us. Before they decide we're not worth the trouble and exterminate us like insects."
"I can't think of a more direct provocation," Spratly replied, "a provocation designed to force them to exterminate us all, than what you are proposing. I forbid you to carry this scheme of yours out."
"General, let me get this right. Are you and Colonel Prescott ordering me not to escape?"
"We're ordering you not to attempt repairing the Bolo."
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William H. Keith, Jr.
"Amounts to the same thing. We can't escape without Hectors help."
"You can escape. Individuals have made it out of the camp. Some of them must get beyond the machine sentry perimeter. You have those codes that let you get close to the Bolo. They should let you get past it as well."
"Certainly. But then what? I'd be living like an animal, hiding from the machines out in the wilds. And machines tracking me by my body heat I'd be rounded up for parts in a week. Less, probably."
