T2 - 02 - The New John Connor Chronicles - An Evil Hour

by Russell Blackford

  "Look, guys," John said, "we know a lot that might be useful. Howard might be able to help us, but I wanted to talk without him."

  He took them through his thinking, point by point.

  First, there was going to be a limit to Skynet's weapons. Kyle had never talked of it having nukes, or using biological agents. Everything was done by machines, up close, with projectile weapons and lasers. "That's right, isn't it, Mom?"

  She nodded her agreement. "That’s all he ever talked about."

  "Okay." He glanced at the T-800. "Does that fit in with what you know?" "Yes."

  "All right, we're getting somewhere." It also struck John that the Terminator must know lots of useful stuff. It had failed to answer the really hard questions they'd asked it, but even a grunt in Skynet's army must know all sorts of things. Target locations. Internal layouts. How equipment worked. He'd been asking it the wrong way. Maybe they could interrogate it systematically, work out what it might know, the sorts of things a low-level soldier might know, and go through it bit by bit. He'd come back to that.

  "Second point," he said. That point was that there had to be a limit to the number of machines Skynet would ever be able to build. It wouldn't be fielding endoskeletons and H-Ks in armies of millions. Again, why would it need concentration camps? But they'd have to make sure of it, find its factories right from the start, keep attacking and harassing. That way, Skynet could be beaten. He laid out all that thinking, and saw how Sarah looked pleased. "We can't let Skynet get too far ahead. We've got to contain it—keep it as weak as we can, until we're strong enough to hit back."

  "All right," Sarah said. "We can start planning the details. If we just knew more about Skynet. How I wish Kyle were here."

  "Well, he's not," John said, "but—"

  "We've got the Terminator," she said.

  He gave her a grin. "Just what 1 was thinking." He looked up at the T-800. "Can you give us the info we want?"

  "Some of it," it replied.

  "Just some?"

  "I have basic information, plus files I needed for my mission."

  John had one last point.

  Again he looked at the Terminator. "In twenty-three years' time, I'm going to have to reprogram you. I'd better start learning how." Howard knew some theory—he must know the right languages to do the job, or something about it, at least. They needed hardware to practice on. "We can't build our own equipment, but we can raid Skynet’s. 1 think we should all start learning. We'll need it when the time comes."

  He felt so much better after talking to that group, the people he knew best and trusted most Carlo was kind of like a rival, but John knew they'd never betray each other—and he was smart. He'd been first to pick up the point about using Skynet’s own equipment That’s what they'd have to do.

  As the gray day grew darker, he took a long walk with Juanita and the T-800. Juanita also seemed full of adrenaline, and like John she needed to talk. Their path took them across a bare field that had once been full of cattle and workers. The estancia still buzzed with activity, but most of it was aimed at war and defense, with just enough farming to live on.

  He was happy, alone with Juanita. . . or almost alone. He smiled to himself, thinking of how the Salcedas had accepted him and Sarah, long before Judgment Day, long before there was any proof of their story.

  Then, in 1997, events had started to go as they had always said: The U.S. government upgraded the stealth bombers to fly unmanned; it had announced more and more ambitious defense projects, culminating in Skynet. At that point, the writing had been on the wall—the Salcedas had understood, and moved everyone here. So often, they'd been his best friends, the people he could talk to, who'd helped him out when times were hardest.

  "I can't help thinking it must have weaknesses," John said as they passed an old tin shed with a broken water pump.

  "You mean Skynet," Juanita said with a smile. She was used to how he thought.

  "Sorry, I mean Skynet. We can't attack it easily, but it's not all-powerful. All it can start with is whatever it's got in that mountain where they built it."

  "We don't really know what it's got there, though. They could have connected it to all sorts of systems— experiments, maybe. Even Howard wouldn't know that."

  "Maybe, but it can't have much of a start."

  The Skynet system, with the human staff attending it, had been built deep within a mountain in the Colorado Rockies, much like the old NORAD Command Center that it had been designed to supersede. It had survived the Russian nuclear warheads; there were rumors that some American forces had hit back it after Judgment Day with tactical nukes. If there were forces with weapons like that, they'd have to meet up with them. That could be important. Whatever the truth in that rumor, Skynet must have survived, and it seemed it could survive anything, unless they could actually get into its HQ, attack it from inside its mountain.

  "What does he think?" Juanita said, pointing a thumb at the Terminator.

  "You should say, 'it', you know. Mom wouldn't like you talking like that."

  "Nah, that's too hard. He looks human, let's not worry about that. Come on, we'll go back, now."

  "He just might be a goldmine," John said thoughtfully.

  Juanita stepped in front of him, put her hands on his shoulders to stop him for a moment. "Okay, so what do you want to do about it?"

  "Get some of the others, some of the military guys. We should interrogate him for hours if we have to, till we run out of questions. It's not like he wants to resist. We just haven't done this in a thorough way."

  She laughed. "Now you're calling him, 'him,' John. You're getting as bad as me."

  He laughed back, enjoying their easy friendship. "I say it in front of Mom."

  "No, you better not. Look, I'll you race you back to the casco" She turned to the T-800. "You, too. Come on, soldiers, let's get moving."

  Next day, they put together a group to help conduct the interrogation, with others to witness it. John and Sarah had to be there, since they knew most about what was to come in the future, the way the war would unfold. Gabriela and Carlo looked on but took no real part, just informing themselves. John got Danny as another witness—he was smart, and could offer an objective opinion.

  Finally, they used Howard, along with Bruce Axelrod, whose training had covered military interrogation. He was the kind of guy who'd make sure nothing got overlooked. John had known him, on and off, for many years, and they trusted each other—he'd taught John a lot, even as a little kid.

  John wished he could have brought more of his friends along to this session—Angelo Suarez maybe, or some of the Salcedas—but he'd brief them afterwards. They wanted to keep down the numbers here, and there had to be priorities.

  The Terminator sat at one end of the big table in the casco. It looked relaxed but alert, with both hands on the tabletop in front of it. The others lined up along the table's sides, John hunching forward, eager to hear what he might learn, how much new information the Terminator had after all these years. Sarah was fidgety and nervous with bad memories coming back, or so John guessed. Her experience was so different from his: The first T-800 she'd met had almost killed her; her lover and protector, Kyle— John's father—had died fighting it She'd lived through all that, traumatized, yet come up so much tougher. [ Howard and Bruce sat on the same side of the table, up near the Terminator, both of them looking stiff and military, though Bruce gave John a wink, to show it was all a kind of game.

  "Let's start," Gabriela said. "This could take a while."

  She'd found some pads and exercise books—plenty of paper for everyone to take notes. She also had a tape recorder running, a handheld device, like a Dictaphone, placed on the tabletop, two feet away from the Terminator. John chose a 224-page exercise book to write notes in.

  "All right," Howard said. "This is not a normal interrogation. It's not like the subject is hostile. So we don't need any tricks, or anything fancy here. It's just a matter of being thorough, making sure we
get all we want. Is that clear? We can do this again if we have to, but it's good to get it right the first time."

  "Amen to that," Bruce said. He looked hard at the Terminator. "What sort of information do you have?"

  "I have detailed files relevant to my mission. Also standard files for Terminator operations."

  "Like what?" John said.

  "General military data. Maps, designs. Human physiological data. Basic psychological theory—"

  "What about Skynet's headquarters?" he said. "How it's laid out? In 2029, I mean. Have you got files on that?"

  "Yes, sufficient for operational purposes."

  Howard put up his hand to stop proceedings. He looked across the table to where John and Sarah were seated. "You guys are the ones who know what questions to ask. The rest of us can help you, but it's really up to you. You happy to go on like this, John?"

  "Sure." John was starting to enjoy it.

  "He's dealt with the Terminator more than anybody," Sarah said. "He knows what to ask it, and what won't help."

  John thought about the Terminator's answers so far. Back in 1994, when they'd fought and fled from the T-1000, it had mentioned its files. It held detailed files on human anatomy, it had said, all the better to be an efficient killer. But there was no reason for it to know everything that Skynet itself knew, or would know in the next twenty-three years. "So how much gets programmed into a Terminator?" he said. "How much information?"

  "All Skynet war units are equipped with basic information relating to their essential operations, and additional information sufficient for their current missions."

  "Okay, so what do you mean by 'war units'?" John had a good idea of what kinds of machines that meant.

  "You're programmed with that information?" Sarah said.

  "Yes, recognition of allied units is basic information required for all missions. No unit could function without it."

  "Okay," John said. "So what don't you know?"

  The Terminator looked at him sharply, almost reproving. "Unclear question."

  John rolled his eyes. The more it dealt with humans, the more the T-800 resembled them in its superficial responses, but there were limits. When it followed John around the estancia or on his various missions, the Terminator seemed totally convincing as a strong, rather silent, human being. But fundamentally it still thought like a computer; like any computer, it could give precise answers, but it needed fairly precise questions.

  "Do you have Skynet's plans for human extermination?" Howard said.

  John looked the T-800 in the eye and nodded, indicating it should answer. "I am equipped with files on general concepts and strategies."

  "All right, we'll come back to that. What is Skynet up to now? How far advanced are its plans right this moment?"

  "Unknown."

  John smiled. He could have answered that. Still, he could see what Howard had in mind, getting a broad overview of the sorts of the things the Terminator might or might not know before getting down to specifics.

  "What about Skynet's HQ," Bruce said lazily. "As of 2029—that's when you come from, I guess?"

  "Yes."

  "Well you must have some kinda map in there." He pointed at the Terminator's forehead. "Could you draw the layout for us?"

  "In general terms. Not all of it was relevant to my missions."

  Bruce smiled John's way. "Your question, counsel." John could see the approach. Start broad, then get specific. For the next few hours, he worked through it as systematically as he could, sometimes taking notes. The others took notes of their own or sometimes gave him hints. As Howard had said, no tricks were needed: it was more a matter of being thorough. John got a lot of information, but found some disappointing gaps. The Terminator's knowledge of the Colorado mountains in 2029, Skynet's defenses, and even the layout of its fortress headquarters all had limits. It knew the general plan of the HQ, but not the details of every floor. It was designed to infiltrate the human Resistance, not to operate at home base or direct defenses in the mountains.

  It knew even less about the defenses established around the fortress, since it did not have any mission to take part in those. It had only enough information to negotiate entrance and egress to and from the fortress and through the defenses. It relied more upon being recognized by other units. It did have much considerable knowledge of other Skynet war machines, including their strengths and weaknesses, and John scribbled that down eagerly. It might prove invaluable. Again, the data was more about operational specifications than design detail, but that was important.

  In the end, it was useful. Taken with other information, it gave them a lot.

  Other people here might be able to supplement it, John thought. Tarissa, for example, must know Colorado well. By the time they attacked Skynet, they'd have an excellent approximation of how its defenses worked.

  He thought about the time travel equipment. Did the Terminator know anything about that? He already knew it wasn't expert on time travel, but it had been sent back in time, using the equipment.

  "I know its basic appearance and operations," the T-800 said. That was good. John made some more notes. He was getting well prepared. He wrote down some summary points, then came to his last batch of questions. He knew he'd think of more later, no matter how thorough he was, but this would do for now. He could always talk to the Terminator separately, if it was just a few points. "Do you use the same technology as Skynet? Your CPU, I mean."

  "Yes," the Terminator said. "My functioning is controlled by a nanotechnological chip using the same technology that Miles Dyson developed for the Skynet project."

  That was what he had expected. He looked at Danny, expecting him to flinch, or show some reaction, at the mention of his father's name, but Danny looked calm and impassive; he simply made a note of the Terminator's answer. "Okay," John said. "Is there a way we can get access to your nanochip? I want to know how it's done."

  "Yes," the Terminator said. "But I cannot be repro-grammed, not with your available technology."

  "No, that's not what I have in mind." Still, it led to another thought. "Could you help us build the right technology?"

  "Negative. I don't have detailed files. Terminator units are not equipped with files on technical details beyond mission requirements."

  "I can see that," John said. "What about you, Howard? Do you know more about it?" "I know how it works. Maybe I could program it with the right equipment. But I'm not an engineer. I can't build the equipment for you. And you know all the problems—"

  "Yeah, we talked about it yesterday. Still, we'll get the equipment. I'm sure we can do something."

  That night, John went with Howard and the Terminator to one of the auto garages. Again, he chose a select group, but a slightly larger one. He wanted younger people involved, people who might still be around and active, twenty-three years down the track. As John looked on with Carlo, the younger Salcedas, Danny Dyson, Fernando Alvez, and half a dozen others, the Terminator found a sharp knife. It sat in front of the mirror on a metal-framed chair with hard vinyl covered padding. It cut carefully into the flesh under its scalp, just above the right temple.

  "Ugh," someone said, but someone else laughed—it was Fernando. John looked with fascination, wincing only slightly at what happened next.

  The Terminator peeled the flesh away, to reveal the shining metal endoskeleton underneath: the chrome "skull." The wound scarcely bled, since the Terminator had no actual blood supply, no network of arteries or veins. When John peered carefully, he could see that the skull was not a single, seamless curve. There was a circular area with an indentation like in the head of a screw. In fact, two tiny screws were placed on either side of it.

  Carlo was the strongest of them all. He found the right tools, and got the cover plate off with tremendous effort. When he'd finished, his hands were stained with the cyborg's blood, but certainly not dripping. Using a pair of pliers, Carlo he pulled out a structure that seemed to be made of intricately connected cubes.
>
  "I've never seen one of these in real life," Howard said bending over it. "Fascinating."

  The Terminator had frozen into position, seated in front of the mirror. John lifted its hand and its servos whined softly, but there was no life in it. When he let go of the hand, it stayed in place.

  "All right," John said. "That's how it's done."

  Carlo passed the nanochip CPU to John, who looked at it closely. He had never seen anything like it. "Could you program something like this?" he said to Howard.

  "In theory."

  John reinserted the CPU. "All right," he said. "We all need to learn that theory."

  PART THREE:

  JOHN'S WORLD

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  COLORADO SPRINGS AUGUST 2001

  Layton soon assessed the situation. There were hours of tapes covering the period that the T-XA and the Specialists had been in the building, but only a small fraction of it was relevant-just the material from the floors where the battle had taken place, mainly the fourth and twelfth floors and the basement The encounter between the Terminator and the Specialists had actually been quite brief. As he watched, he tried to assess the harm that would be done if this material were seen by the wrong people in Washington.

  Here, in Colorado Springs, he felt in control. Jensen had brought a Cyberdyne guard called Penny Webster, a young, muscular black woman whom the T-XA had already reprogrammed. Layton now had a strong core of people to carry on here while he went to Washington.

  They ordered in pizzas, coffee and Coke to get them through while they worked — not his normal idea of fine cuisine, but sufficient to keep him going as they sorted through the images on the tapes. Some sacrifices had to be made in Skynet's interests. They quickly discarded the footage from most of the cameras, working their way down to about two hours of relevant material, which they edited into a single chronological sequence, with some repetition of events from different angles, and some sequences of events that came from different parts of the building at the same time.

  He replayed one part again and again. On the fourth floor of the building, the Connors and the Specialists had encountered one of the components that the T-XA had split off; it had the appearance of a man, solidly built, with long, dark-brown hair. The camera showed events, viewed from above, as the pseudo-man rounded a corner, and John Connor took aim with a 12-gauge shotgun. He blasted the Terminator's right hand, which held its laser rifle. The hand snapped off, and the heavy weapon went flying through the air. One of the Specialists, an Hispanic-looking woman, accelerated with superhuman speed almost into the pseudo-man's arms, catching the laser rifle and tossing it to one of the others. But the T-XA's left arm morphed, stabbing out as a long sword like shaft, three inches thick. It pierced straight through the woman's chest, then out her back.