Infiltrator t2-1

by S. M. Stirling

“The army?” Donna answered, raising her eyebrows.

  “Going to Sacramento was a complete waste of time,” Sarah said bitterly, dropping her hands. “And way too expensive.”

  “Not entirely wasted, Sarah,” Dieter said. He reached down and pulled up his backpack. Reaching in he extracted the portable computer. “John downloaded a lot of stuff into this.”

  “It never occurred to you to tell me about that?” Sarah snapped.

  “I thought I’d give you some privacy,” von Rossbach said calmly. He turned the computer on. “Now we can see what he got for us. Then we can go and rescue him.”

  “You’re assuming he’s alive,” she said.

  He stopped and looked at her, his gaze level.

  “And what do you assume, Sarah?”

  “I assume that if he was brought directly to the boss Terminator that he—” She stopped herself.

  Letting her anger take over wouldn’t help, and if she gave up hope there was no point in going on. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and

  started over.

  “I think we’d better find John before we blow the place up,” she said grimly.

  “This whole rigmarole is pointless if we kill him ourselves.” She looked at von Rossbach. “What did he get for us?”

  One corner of Dieter’s mouth curved up at that. He’d been worried. But this woman was, if anything, resilient.

  “It’s encoded,” he said, and tapped a few keys. “In a few minutes the decoding program should bare all of Cyberdyne’s secrets.” Dieter shrugged. “Unless they’ve got something this program can’t work its way around.”

  Sarah nodded. Ike and Donna looked at one another.

  “Um,” Ike said. Sarah and Dieter looked at him and he cleared his throat. “I don’t like to sound inhospitable,” he began awkwardly, “but was there a reason you came to us, specifically.”

  “Yes,” Sarah said. “John indicated that he had plans for a… what was it?” she asked Dieter.

  “A phased plasma rifle in the forty-watt range,” he quoted.

  “Yowza,” Ike said softly, his eyes very interested.

  “Not that I expect you’ll be able to just whip one up, even with the plans,” Sarah said. “But I had an idea and I think you might be able to help me with that.”

  “What is it?” Donna said. “You know we don’t hold with killing soldiers just

  doing their duty, Sarah.”

  “I don’t want to kill anybody,” Sarah answered calmly. “I never have, and I see no reason to start now. But Terminators aren’t people and weapons that would tear a human apart wouldn’t stop one for more than a few seconds.”

  Ike and Donna both slid their eyes toward von Rossbach, who nodded grimly, his arms crossed over his chest. “The lady speaks from experience. Shared experience. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

  Sarah tightened her lips at their obvious doubt, then continued, “But they’re robots. And robots have to have a power source. If we could interrupt that power, permanently, if possible, then they won’t be as big a problem.”

  Dieter nodded, frowning thoughtfully.

  “Yes, that would be good.” He looked at her and shrugged. “Did you have something in mind?”

  “I don’t know if this is possible,” she said to Ike. “But I was thinking, maybe, some sort of souped-up taser?”

  Ike looked between them both, then at his wife, who shrugged.

  “Sure, I could soup up a taser for you,” he said. “But how souped up are we talking here?”

  “At least three or four times what you’d need to drop a man my size,” Dieter said. “Maybe more.”

  Ike blew out his breath. “The problem there would be battery power.” he explained. “I guess I could work out some sort of back-or fanny-pack arrangement.” He wasn’t talking to them now, but to himself. He looked up suddenly. “When do you need this?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” Sarah said definitely. “I’d say tonight but that’s just the mother in me talking.”

  Ike gave her a long look, then nodded. “I can have one, definitely. I’ll try for two, but I make no guarantees.”

  “I’ll accept that.” Sarah smiled wearily. “It’s more than I have any right to expect.

  And I thank you.”

  The computer beeped, and von Rossbach drew it toward him. He tapped keys and read, then tapped some more.

  “There is no Skynet project,” he said after a careful search.

  “There’s probably an artificial-intelligence project, though,” Sarah said. She came to stand by his shoulder and read the text he was looking at. “Right now the things that will go into making Skynet might just be starting up.”

  Dieter started broadening his search, using “AI” and “artificial intelligence” as search parameters. Within seconds he had several projects listed. The first one he pulled up had a familiar name. “I know about this guy,” he said. “He’s a genius, but he’s also a lunatic.”

  Sarah shrugged slightly. “In what way?”

  “He’s a Nazi for one thing; genuine article, no Haider pussyfooting. We watched him carefully in the Sector. We thought that he had terrorist leanings and that he could do a lot of damage if he put his mind to it. A very powerful mind.”

  “Maybe he’s the one that taught Skynet to hate,” Sarah said. Maybe we should kill him, she thought. Stop the hate, stop the problem? After all, there was no guarantee that destroying Cyberdyne again would stop the project. Unless we get all the stored information this time.

  John’s face was suddenly in her mind’s eye, smiling, obviously about to crack a joke; she pushed it aside. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about him until after they’d gotten him free. If I think about him now I’ll break down. And then she might never get up again. So feelings and memories she didn’t need. What she needed was something constructive to do.

  “This is all great stuff,” she said, “but not pertinent to our mission. We need to know how Cyberdyne is laid out, and if there are security codes needed to work the elevators, things like that.”

  “Yes,” Dieter said. He tapped keys. A menu came up and he made a selection. A map of the complex came up on the screen.

  Donna leaned in. “We’ve got a printer in the office that you can use,” she offered. “In fact, why don’t you go set up in there while Sarah and I get dinner ready.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared. She was about to say something obnoxious like My son could be dead and you want me to peel potatoes? when

  she stopped herself. Actually, making supper might help. “Okay,” she said.

  “Print out that map for one, Dieter.” Sarah turned to Donna. “What would you like me to do?”

  “Chop up some wood, hon, and I’ll fire up the stove,” Donna answered matter-of-factly.

  Sarah smiled. She’d been right to keep her mouth shut. Hitting something with an ax was just what she needed right now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CYBERDYNE: THE PRESENT

  Serena sat absolutely still and concentrated on her breathing, trying to push every other thing in the world to the outer edges of her consciousness. The technique had been taught to her by Skynet itself and she had used it for as long as she could remember to focus her mind. Unfortunately, today it was terribly difficult to concentrate and she kept having to start over.

  Today she was as close to murderous rage as she’d ever come in her life. The desire to kill was almost overwhelming. She positively lusted to tear a Terminator apart. Regrettably that was impossible; they were irreplaceable and not to be disposed of lightly, even if they were incompetent, moronic, bungling, inadequate, ineffectual, maladroit…

  It didn’t help that they were only following her orders. I should have let them kill Dyson, she thought bitterly. She was going to have to kill him anyway and she could easily have blamed the Connors for his death. Never in her life had she felt

  stupid. It was horrible. It was human. />
  Still, sending the Terminators after Connor and her accomplice had seemed more important—the more disciplined decision. John Connor was in her hands whatever happened. Catching his mother and the man with her was more logical than shooting some easily disposed of human who might still have some utility.

  But the woman’s ability to escape certain death bordered on the supernatural…

  unless she was the unknowing tool of a continuum that kept trying, with idiot persistence, to restore the original timestream. Once again she had slipped through their fingers.

  Her own fingers squeezed the arms of her chair, making deep indentations in the hard rubbery material. Serena forced them to relax and she started the meditation process over again. A deep initial breath—

  “Ms. Burns.” Mrs. Duprey said, her apologetic voice interrupted Serena’s solitude like a gunshot. “I know you asked not to be disturbed, but… Mr. Warren is here to see you.”

  I don’t have time for this! Serena thought, irritation spiking. But one didn’t send the president of the company away with a flea in his ear. “By all means send him in, Mrs. Duprey,” she said mellifluously.

  Serena stood as Warren entered the room, shutting the door behind him. “I’m sorry to interrupt you,” he said, sounding subdued.

  Is he still regretting the loss of that bitch? she wondered. “Not at all,” she said aloud. “I have a slight headache and was taking a break.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. He looked for a moment as if he’d caught her with her shirt off. “It’s just… this memo you sent around. I’d like an explanation, if you don’t mind.”

  He’d surprised her. Serena thought of Warren as a nonentity, regarding Colvin as the real power at Cyberdyne, the one to work around. But the CEO was on a business trip to Dallas and wasn’t expected back until Tuesday. She had hoped to have everything settled by then.

  Serena smiled at the president and gestured him to a seat on the sofa. He sat and she sat beside him, her arm along the back of the couch. “I imagine the scientists are up in arms,” she said, grinning.

  “I’ve had a few calls,” Warren said dryly.

  “I wouldn’t ask for this if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary,” Serena said, turning serious. “We received some information—which turned out to be all too accurate—that Sarah Connor was gunning for us again.”

  The president grew visibly paler. Visibly to someone like Serena, that is.

  “She’s back?” he almost whispered. He put a hand to his forehead. Then he turned to Serena. “Tell me.”

  “She’s made an attack on our Sacramento storage facility. I sent Mr. Dyson up there to take care of it and he gave me some good news and some bad news. The good news is that they stopped Connor from actually bombing the place. The bad news is that the system probably has a worm and/or a virus in it, and will

  have to be cleansed. It will probably be best to simply wipe the system completely and then reinstall everything. They cut a bunch of cables, too.”

  “That’s actually pretty good,” Warren said, looking shell-shocked, “considering what happened the last time she tangled with us.”

  “Further bad news,” Serena said, looking regretful, “is that she and one of her associates got away.”

  Warren’s lips tightened and he looked grim.

  “I would have expected better from a former FBI agent,” he said.

  Serena leaned closer, smiling. “The good news,” she said confidentially, “is that we have Connor’s son.”

  Warren brightened, then his expression dropped.

  “We have him, or the police do?”

  The T-950 cocked her head to one side, smiling with satisfaction.

  “We have him,” she said. “I told Mr. Dyson to bring him here. But I don’t expect him for a couple of hours yet.” Serena gave Warren a level gaze. “That’s why I sent the memo around. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Especially not these people; they’re too valuable.”

  “Yes,” Warren said thoughtfully. “I see what you mean.” He put his hands on his knees and stared into space for a moment. At last he nodded decisively. “All right,” he said. “At five tonight everybody goes home and stays there. Except for

  the security guards, of course,” he turned, smiling, to Serena.

  She nodded encouragingly.

  “Um. How long do you think we’ll have to stay closed?” he asked nervously.

  “Not long,” she assured him. “Mr. Dyson told me that the boy was wounded slightly. So I think his mother will come looking for him posthaste. Perhaps tonight, definitely by tomorrow. This nightmare should be over by the end of the week.”

  Paul Warren let out a deep sigh. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,”

  he said. “I’m sure Roger will be too when I call him tonight.”

  “Do you think you should?” the T-950 asked, frowning. “This Dallas meeting is pretty important, isn’t it? Mr. Colvin will probably want to come back and there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. And if he decides to stay down there he’ll be very, and understandably, distracted.” Serena tipped her head prettily. “Your call, of course,” she said and smiled.

  “I see your point,” he agreed uneasily. Dallas was important. But he didn’t like keeping his partner out of the loop like this. By the same token the whole thing might well be over, for good or ill, by the time Colvin could get back. And the Dallas meeting had taken months to set up.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said, rising. “Thank you, Ms. Burns. You have my complete cooperation on this. And”—he looked into her eyes—“good luck.”

  Serena looked up at him with a subtly moonstruck expression. After a moment

  he sort of shuffled his feet and nodded, leaving without a backward glance.

  The T-950 rated her performance. I did well, she thought.

  Now to more important matters. She would order the company doctor and nurse to stay after everyone else had left. By then the Terminators would be back and she could replace three of the six security guards with them. She would put Seven, the most conservative looking, at the front desk; the other two she would station near the boy. She’d tell the doctor that one of them was a trained nurse.

  Then she’d let the doctor and nurse go home.

  And then I will sit back and wait for Sarah Connor to come to me.

  This time, she wouldn’t get away.

  THE CHAMBERLAINS’ CABIN: THE PRESENT

  “Heeeeyyy! Ralph!” Dieter said heartily. “How’s it going, buddy?”

  Sarah watched him from across the room, her arms and legs crossed. A lot depended on this conversation.

  “Dieter? Dieter! Whoa! What happened buddy? Cows getting dull?”

  Major Ralph Ferri settled back in his chair, looking forward to an interesting conversation. He’d had the pleasure of working with the Sector agent earlier in his career, when he was a lot more active himself—Delta force, black-ops shit.

  They’d stayed friendly over the years, even though they rarely saw each other.

  “You have no idea,” Dieter answered. “All they do is chew. Even the bulls.

  They’re all pretty boring compared to Srebrenica.”

  “So where are ya calling from?” Ferri asked. “Sounds like you’re next door.”

  “Practically,” von Rossbach lied. “I’m in L.A. I was wondering; can we get together?”

  Sarah’s heart gave a single bound, as though the Major were suddenly in the room with them and able to see the lies as they came out of von Rossbach’s mouth. And how could he miss them? It sounded so completely false to her, staged, and insincere. So much depended on this conversation. John’s life depended on this conversation. Please, God, make him want to have dinner with Dieter!

  “Aw, man! I’m kinda tied up here. I don’t think I’ll be able to get away from the base for a couple of days, man.”

  “I could come see you there,” Dieter suggested. “I’m not above eatin
g in the commissary. I’d hate to be this close and not get to say hello. Unless you’re too busy, that is.”

  “Oh, I think I can squeeze you in.” Ferri chuckled. “We can eat in my quarters. I make a great Kung Pao chicken. After the way you carried me out of that place with enough jacketed lead in me to start a factory, I owe you a dinner. At least.”

  “Anything but beef!” von Rossbach said with feeling. “When should I show up?”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday, should be a fairly easy day. How about six?”

  “I’ll bring the beer,” Dieter said.

  “Outstanding!” Ferri said. “See ya.”

  “Tomorrow,” von Rossbach agreed.

  He hung up and looked at Sarah. She seemed to be all eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile.

  “We’re on,” he said.

  ROUTE FIVE, JUST OUTSIDE L.A.: THE PRESENT

  “Major Ferri, I’ll be at the base in twenty minutes. That’s seven-fifteen. Would you please meet me at the main gate?” Jordan asked, steering one-handed through the insane Southern California drivers.

  Ferri sighed. “Sure,” he said. “See you in twenty.”

  “Thanks Ralph. I owe you.”

  “You do,” the Major agreed.

  Ferri hung up, chuckling. He really did like having people owe him favors.

  Especially for things that weren’t going to inconvenience him in any way. As for meeting Dyson at the gate, well, he was looking forward to a full rundown on this situation anyway and this would be the quickest way to get one.

  Ferri never had taken to the Burns woman. She was a looker all right, too gorgeous to be real; you kept expecting to see some guy with an airbrush pop out

  of the bushes and give her a touch-up.

  But the base dogs couldn’t stand her and showed it, growling and showing their teeth. Ferri had been a dog handler early in his career, and knew that if the well-trained MP dogs couldn’t keep discipline around that woman it had to mean something. What that might be he didn’t know—yet. Maybe Dyson would be able to give him some insight.

  Meanwhile, until he knew what was wrong with her, putting one over on that corporate snob was going to be absolutely delicious. And if it worked out that he could in some way embarrass Burns, or if fortune allowed, get her fired, well, that would just be the icing on the cake.