No, not overnight, Angus realized. It would take months to pound in new convictions.
Drummond slipped down from the ledge. "Here goes nothing."
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."