Hyperbole
Trudy cautiously lowered her body into the seat. It was quite disturbing, sitting in the cockpit of a bird that had no instrument panel or controls. Her hands wanted to feel the comforting feel of a joystick, of the solid reassurance of the throttle knobs ready to thrust the spacecraft forward, but there was nothing there other than the seat.
If she was going to do this, she had to do it now.
She took her queue and linked it with the spacecraft. Her breath rushed out of her lungs – it was like plunging into a mountain stream, the rush of cold machine around her consciousness, and then she was suddenly aware - suddenly aware of everything around her.
"Interesting, isn't it?" Bright thoughts not her own insinuated themselves into her brain.
"Eywa?" queried Trudy, speaking aloud as the canopy lowered smoothly over the cockpit. "Is that you?"
"Yes and no. I'm a copy of a small part of Eywa. She thought you could do with a little guidance with the spacecraft – you don't seem the type to read the manual."
"Bird," corrected Trudy. "It's a bird, not a spacecraft, or a ship, or anything else. Remember it, bitch." Trudy was not happy about being manipulated into being Eywa's tool, and let her irritation be known to the artificial intelligence – who, she was sure, was in constant communication with Eywa.
"My, my, you are a little touchy," said the spacecraft rather waspily. "It must be hormones. Pregnancy often does that."
"Is Norm clear?" she asked testily, wondering what kind of jet-wash this thing produced, not wanting to blow her mate ass over tit. It seemed that she had correctly identified the nature of the AI. Nari'ong, for all his savagery, had a much nicer personailty than this jumped-up accountancy program. It did seem, however, that the AI was good at its job. It had opened the doors covering the chamber holding the bird, and she could see the pale blue Pandoran sky above.
"Yes, oh mighty Tipani warrior," said the Bitch, its mental voice dripping with sarcasm. That was what Trudy decided her name was. It looked like their relationship was off to a flying start, so to speak. "What are you waiting for?" it asked. "A green light?"
The Bitch was right. What was she waiting for?
"Fly."