Alita had been conscious by the time he got there, clinging for support to a loose bundle of optical wiring dangling from a breach in the wall. Her legs were bruised and bloodied, cut, it appeared, by the !*!*! tentacles now lying severed on the deck. She had bruises at her throat as well, but she insisted that she was okay. "I did it," she told him, pointing unsteadily at the shattered wall. "I killed the thing that was changing Hector's memory and programming!"
"I know. He told me to come get you. I'm not sure what he's up to now, but I think I'd like all of us to get down to the Battle Center, fast."
He sprayed her legs with mediseal foam to stop the bleeding, then helped her hobble back out into the
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corridor and down, the access tubeway toward the Battle Center. "What's he doing now?" she asked.
"He claimed he was putting top priority to rearming his primaries," Jaime replied. "I assume he means his Hefibores? When I asked how, he got kind of testy. Told me, in so many words, to mind my own business."
Alita started to laugh.
"What's so funny?"
"That's Hector, all right," she said. "You know, every AI develops its own personality, just like people. Hector was always a bit of a snob. He likes things to be just so. He's liable to review any personnel records he has on file and decide you're not qualified to understand the answers to your questions."
Jaime grinned ruefully at the memory. "He pulled that on me."
"Ah. He also doesn't have a lot of patience with people who aren't as quick on the uptake as he is. He's polite about it, but he can be stubborn."
"Great," Jaime muttered. A temperamental Bolo. Wonderful. .. .
They reached the Battle Center a few moments later, palming open the door and stepping inside. Jaime was surprised to see Shari on her feet, clinging to the back of the command seat as lights flickered across the control console. "Shari? Are you okay?"
She turned and stared at him, as if for a moment she didn't recognize him. Then she nodded. "Yes, Major. I'm sorry I fell apart. It was ... kind of a shock."
"Of course it was. No apologies necessary." He glanced at the display dome. It looked as though the Bolo was now out in the middle of Celeste's inner harbor, surrounded by choppy brown water. "What the hell is going on?"
"He says he's taking on water," Shari told him.
"Taking on ... water." He ducked beneath the rim of the dome display and slipped into the command
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seat, swiveling it around to check the entire 360б panorama. They were no longer under attack, but that state of affairs could not last much longer.
"Hector," he said, his voice crisp and businesslike. "This is Major Jaime Graham. As the senior CDF officer present, I am assuming command."
There was a long pause, and Jaime chafed at the wait. This, he thought is ridiculous. A whole semester at the Cloud Military Academy had been devoted to the psychology of leadership, the science of how an officer could inspire, direct, and lead the men and women under his command. He'd never imagined that he would need to draw on that training to win a Bolo's confidence and obedience.
The thought gave him pause. The Bolo was as intelligent, easily, as any human. How did a new, possibly inexperienced officer win the trust of soldiers under his command, especially the battle-seasoned NCOs who were the backbone of every army?
"If you're worried about my qualifications," he continued after a moment, "all I can say is that I'm going to have to rely on you to fill in any gaps. Understood?"
