"This unit is not scheduled for standard maintenance," my other self responds. It knows the words are originating internal to our system, but it cannot respond in any other way.
"Override Security Alpha, Code Delta Echo One-one."
/ should not be able to override my own security system, but this strange double-mindedness generated by the Intruder's manipulations of my operating system may let me get around this particular operational parameters safeguard, at least for a short time.
I can sense my other self hesitating for a full. 083 second, attempting to resolve this logical paradox.
And during that delay, I strike. . . .
Enemy machines were closing rapidly from every direction as he reached the ridge of bones. Jaime hesitated, snapped off another shot, and then lightning cracked at his heels. He pitched forward, falling off the ridge and sprawling on the ground. In one nightmare instant, he realized that he was now well inside Hector's perimeter, and he could hear the whine and click of the Bolo's AP weapons swinging to bear.
Then one of the weapons fired with a harsh snap. Jaime's breath caught in his throat, and then he heard something like a swarm of bees in a hot wind howling just above his body, followed by a metallic clash a few meters behind him.
Bolo AP weapons were aimed by heat and radar
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sensors; they did not, could not miss. He rolled over in time to see the lower half of a ! *! *! floater wobbling unsteadily on its contra-gravs, then dropping to the bone pile in a tangle of smashed metal and gutted wiring The AP flechettes had shredded the upper third of the machine seconds before it had reached Jaime.
And the Solo's automatic defense program had not fired on him. Jaime raised his power gun and snapped off another shot, catching a chunky-looking floater in the side, ripping through its skin and dissolving the internal wiring in a flash and a black puff of acrid smoke. Blue lightning flared and danced.
Then he was up and on his feet and running again, racing toward the cool, black loom of the Bole's cii fflike flank. He saw Alita and Shari to his left, already across the perimeter and racing toward Hector's damaged right side.
Most of the ! *! *! machines in view were either low-grade workersўunarmed and not smart enough to survive a firelight like this oneўor too badly damaged now to pose a threat. As Jaime slammed up against one of the Solo's enormous road wheels and turned, though, he saw one floater, the biggest yet, advancing swiftly across the gravel-topped crest of the hill, a four-meter apparition, all rounded curves and gray metal complexities, with unwinking eyes of red crystal interspersed with a few disturbing, transplanted human eyes. Hie machine eyes glitteredwith cold dispassion; the human eyes stared athim with an intelligent malice that was nearly palpable.
Raising the power gun, bracing the weapon with both hands, he squeezed the firing button, sending a blue lance of high-energy electrons slashing into the oncoming horror. Even as the beam connected, however, a shimmer ran down the thread of light, a warning indicator that his charge was nearly exhausted.
BOLO RISING
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An organic eye burst at the beam's first touch; metal scorched and smoked. Jaime released the button and checked the indicator. He had about four percent power remaining.
He pushed away from the road wheel and ducked around the front of the Bolo, brushing beneath the overhang of the immense pair of left-forward tracks. The floater fired, lightning crackling across the road wheel. Why didn't Hector fire back? He'd taken down that other floater, out by the bone ridge. Why wasn't he in the fight?
No time to wonder. Feet pounding on gravel and crushed rock, Jaime raced along the front of the Bolo, then rounded the right forward track set. Looking up, he saw Shari and Alita both high above him, climbing a line of rungs set into the armored skirt above the right-side road wheels. Reaching an access ladder hanging down from the bottom of the skirt, he tucked the power gun into his waistband, swung himself up, and started to climb. The thought of segmented tentacles whipping around his ankles and dragging him down spurred him on faster.
Could a floater follow? He wasn't sure he'd ever seen one of the larger floaters lift itself more than a meter or two off the ground. Maybe they couldn't go higher than that.
He knew better than to count on it, though. If the big floater he'd just shot couldn't follow, there would be other !*!*! machines appearing soon enough that could. By now, the electronic alarm would have been sounded from here to Delamar and back, and every 1*1"! machine in the area must be homing in on this hilltop.
Above the ladder were climbing rungs, leading up the vast, empty expanse of the right-side skirts. The armor curved outward here, and negotiating the overhang of the bulge was tricky, but He hung on and
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