After the tower had tumbled into a dusty heap, Juno used her mechanical arms to tear through the rubble, knocking stones and girders aside. She crawled over the wreckage, discarding the broken bodies of secondaries until finally she found the preservation canister. The dead monk Aquim and the curved plexiplaz tank had kept the Cogitor's brain from being pulverized, but the container was cracked. Bluish electrafluid dripped into the dirt and debris. “The pot calling the kettle black.”
“Yeah.