1n1REzE

Peter Watts 110 Blindsight
"Understanding the shapes is enough."
Bates seemed to find some small imperfection in the battlebot
under scrutiny, scratched at its shell with a fingernail. "Software
couldn't do that without your help"
"Software can do a lot of things. We've chosen to do some for
ourselves." I nodded at the grunt. "Your visual inspections, for
example."
She smiled faintly, conceding the point.
"So I'd encourage you to speak freely. You know I'm sworn to
confidentiality."
"Thanks," she said, meaning On this ship, there's no such thing.
Theseus chimed. Sarasti spoke in its wake: "Orbital insertion in
fifteen minutes. Everyone to the drum in five."
"Well," Bates said, sending one last grunt on its way. "Here we
go." She pushed off and sailed up the spine.
The newborn killing machines clicked at me. They smelled like
new cars.
"By the way," Bates called over her shoulder, "you missed the
obvious one."
"Sorry"
She spun a hundred-eighty degrees at the end of the passageway,
landed like an acrobat beside the drum hatch. "The reason. Why
something would attack us even if we didn't have anything it
wanted."
I read it off her: "If it wasn't attacking at all. If it was defending
itself."
"You asked about Sarasti. Smart man. Strong Leader. Maybe
could spend a little more time with the troops."
Vampire doesn't respect his command. Doesn't listen to advice.
Hides away half the time.
I remembered transient killer whales. "Maybe he's being
considerate." He knows he makes us nervous.
"I'm sure that's it," Bates said.
Vampire doesn't trust himself.
*