PeterWatts_Blindsight

Peter Watts 82 Blindsight
expect us to just give up after we learned we'd been sniped? Of
course we'd look elsewhere. Burns-Caulfield could only have been
intended as a delaying action; if I was them, I'd plan on us getting
out here eventually. But I think they miscalculated somehow. We
got out here sooner than they expected and caught them with their
pants down."
Szpindel split the bulb and emptied it into his mug. "Pretty large
miscalculation for something so smart, eh?" A hologram bloomed
on contact with the steaming liquid, glowing in soft
commemoration of the Gaza Glasslands. The scent of plasticised
coffee flooded the Commons. "Especially after they'd surveilled us
down to the square meter," he added.
"And what did they see? I-CANNs. Solar sails. Ships that take
years to reach the Kuiper, and don't have the reserves to go
anywhere else afterwards. Telematter didn't exist beyond Boeing's
simulators and a half-dozen protypes back then. Easy to miss.
They must've figured one decoy would buy them all the time they
needed."
"To do what?" James wondered.
"Whatever it is," Bates said, "We're ringside."
Szpindel raised his mug with an infirm hand and sipped. The
coffee trembled in its prison, the surface wobbling and blobbing in
the drum's half-hearted gravity. James pursed her lips in faint
disapproval. Open-topped containers for liquids were technically
verboten in variable-gravity environments, even for people without
Szpindel's dexterity issues.
"So they're bluffing," Szpindel said at last.
Bates nodded. "That's my guess. Rorschach's still under
construction. We could be dealing with an automated system of
some kind."
"So we can ignore the keep-off-the-grass signs, eh? Walk right
in."
"We can afford to bide our time. We can afford to not push it."
"Ah. So even though we could maybe handle it now, you want
to wait until it graduates from covert to invulnerable." Szpindel
shuddered, set down his coffee. "Where'd you get your military
training again? Sporting Chance Academy?"