Interestedly, Angus folded his arms and watched the other square his
shoulders and march off confidently through the ranks of robots toward
the ship in the distance.
For a moment, it seemed he would succeed. But two of the RAs suddenly
reared erect and seized him by the arms. They bore him on their
shoulders and deposited him back on the ridge beside McIntosh.
"Warm tonight," Drummond observed bitterly, glancing up at the sky.
"Sure is," Angus agreed, his voice calm. "Wouldn't be surprised if we
got some rain tomorrow."
* * * * *
Drummond flipped another pebble and it _pinged_ down on a metal back.
"Seven out of thirteen."
"Getting good."
"Look, let's tell 'em we're their Supervisor and end this marathon
worship."
"Which one of us is going to play the divine role?"
"What difference does it make?"
Angus shrugged and his tired eyes stared off into the darkness. "One of
us is--Jackson. The other is an impostor, brought here to test their
faith. When they find out which is which, what are they going to do to
the impostor?"