"We might not be able to control her, but we could come up with our own way, maybe," Sam said. "There's always more than one way of doing things." That didn't mean that the other ways would be the right ways. But if she got desperate enough, there wasn't much she wouldn't try. It was just a matter of figuring out exactly what those options were.
The AI would probably get pissed at them for it, too. And she could probably send them home as easily as she'd pulled them out. Or dump them on a planet where they couldn't possibly survive or be of any use to anyone, as Norman had just pointed out. Yet another reason not to piss the computer off. Which she might have done already, by suggesting they work around its systems, but so far her brains weren't fried. She counted that as probably a good sign.
She looked up at him, and then down at her drink. "I'm okay," she said, echoing him with a wry smile. "Or I will be."
Most of what he was saying about the ARI didn't make complete sense to her, but what she got out of it was that it was operated by the glove, and therefore by hand movements. "You think they wanted to make you look strange?" she asked. "Maybe. But any interface that's in your own brain is bound to be a little weird."