"I was . .. land of busy."
"When the shooting started," Dieter added, "most of us headed for cover and kept our heads down. But a fewў"
"It was Colonel Prescott, mostly," Xin said. "He organized a lot of us. Led us to the turner houses . . ."
"Really!" Jaime was surprised. Wal had ordered him to stand down, and he'd been half expecting a biting lecture on the need to follow orders. If the colonel was able to adapt to suddenly changing situations and opportunities, though, he would understand why Jaime had done what he'd done. "Is Wal okay?"
"Last I heard, yes, sir. He's still out there, trying to get our people organized."
"There were a number of people wounded," Dieter put in. "I believe the colonel is trying to round up those people in the camp with medical experience."
"How many wounded?" Jaime wanted to know,
"I don't know, Jaime. Several dozen, certainly."
"Not as bad as it could've been," Haley said. "We hit the turners before they knew what was happenin'." He gestured at the uniforms they were wearing. "Captured uniforms, stunsticks, even some weapons, though I don't think anyone's run inventory yet on all the stuff we got. And any clacker machines that got in the way, well, they didn't stand much of a chance against tw!"
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Jaime smiled, "Did you leave any in one piece?" He wasn't sure it would be possible to get any information from a captured clacker. More than that, he didn't think it would be possible to keep one prisoner. How did you disarm a machine that could channel bolts of antipersonnel lightning through its body? At the same time, though, they desperately needed to know more about their machine enemy.
"That's a negative! Most of 'em took off when the rocks started falling out of the sky. Guess they didn't want to be hanging around at ground zero." He tapped the side of the lens wired to his head. "The slow ones got disassembled."
"What about the turners?"
Them too. I think most of them high-tailed it faster than the cluckers. Those that could, of course. The slow ones didn't get any further than the slow clackers."
Jaime nodded. There would have been, could have been, no mercy for any of the turncoat humans who'd fallen into the hands of the rebelling slaves.
"We'll have to watch for a counterstrike of some kind," Jaime said.
"What, the turners?" Haley snorted. "They don't stand a comet's chance on a sun going up against a Bolo!"
"The Maў" He stopped himself. They were Masters no longer. The machines. Hector here fended off three of their starships, but it was a close-run thing. They'll be back, and when they come, our best strategy is going to be to hide."
Dieter's face showed his astonishment.. . and then he laughed. "Hide? A goddamn Bolo?"
Haley's laugh was colored ever so slightly by hysteria. He waved his arms, taking in the dull gray walls of the war machine enclosing them. "How the hell are we supposed to hide this thing?"
Jaime chuckled. There are ways. First thing we have
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to do is reorganize the war council." His face hardened. "Have any of you seen the general? Or his aides?"
