It looked nothing like a traditional skrode. Blueshell rolled across the ceiling and extended a frond down to his mate. He rustled something at her, and after a moment, she replied. "The skrodeling is very limited, no mobility, no redundant power supplies. I copied it off a Lesser Skroderider design, a simple thing designed by Dirokimes. It's not meant for more than sitting in one place, facing in one direction. But it provides her with short-term memory support, and attention focusers.... She is back with me." He fussed around her,
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Insanity Workouts, others pointing to the gadget he had built for her. "She herself was not badly injured. Sometimes I wonder -- whatever Pham says, maybe at the last second he could not kill her." He spoke nervously, as though afraid of what Ravna might say. "The first few days I was very worried. But the surgeon is good. It gave her plenty of time to stand in strong surf. To think slowly. Since I've added on this skrodeling, she has practiced the calisthenics of memory, repeating what the surgeon or I say to her. With the skrodeling,
mbt panda sandals, she can hold on to a new memory for almost five hundred seconds. That's usually long enough for her natural mind to commit a thought to long-term memory." Ravna drifted close. There were some new creases in Greenstalk's fronds. Those would be scars healing. Her visual surfaces followed Ravna's approach. The Rider knew she was here; her whole posture was friendly. "Can she talk Trisk, Blueshell? Do you have a voder hooked up?" "What?" Buzz. He was forgetful or nervous, Ravna couldn't tell which. "Yes, yes. Just give me a minute.... There was no need before. No one wanted to talk to us." He fiddled with something on the home-made skrode. After a moment, "Hello, Ravna. I ... recognize you." Her fronds rustled in time with the words. "I know you,
Beats Solo HD (Red) Special Edition High Definitio, too. We, I am glad that you are back." The voder voice was faint, wistful? "Yes. It's hard for me to tell. I do want to talk, but I'm not sure ... am I'm making sense?" Out of Greenstalk's sight, Blueshell flicked a long tendril,
mbt baridi, a gesture: say yes. "Yes, I understand you, Greenstalk." And Ravna resolved never again to get angry with Greenstalk about not remembering. "Good." Her fronds straightened and she didn't say anything more. "See?" came Blueshell's voder voice. "I am brightly cheerful. Even now, Greenstalk is committing this conversation to long-term memory. It goes slowly for now, but I am improving the skrodeling. I'm sure her slowness is mainly emotional shock." He continued to brush at Greenstalk's fronds, but she didn't say anything more. Ravna wondered just how brightly cheerful he could be. Behind the Riders were a set of display windows, customized now for the Rider outlook. "You've been following the News?" Ravna asked. "Yes, indeed." "I-I feel so helpless." I feel so foolish, saying that to you. But Blueshell didn't take offense. He seemed grateful for the change of topic, preferring the gloom at a distance. "Yes. We certainly are famous now. Three fleets chasing us down, my lady. Ha ha." "They don't seem to be gaining very fast." Frond shrug. "Sir Pham has turned out to be a competent ship's master. I'm afraid things will change as we descend. The ship's higher automation will gradually fail. What you call 'manual control' will become very important. OOB was designed for my race, my lady. No matter what Sir Pham thinks of us,
ghd wiki, at bottom we can fly it better than any. So bit by bit the others will gain -- at least those who truly understand their own ships." It was something she hadn't guessed, certainly something she would never have found reading the Net.