What was scary about some of their friends was that they didn't need too much convincing, they kind of reserved judgment anyway. That meant that they really were crazy.
Willard took another turn-off, and they soon arrived at Tejada's estancia, where they drove through a gate marked with the sign NO TRESPASSING in flaming red letters. They passed cattle, men on horseback, an orange tractor, then reached the homestead, 200 yards on. It was fenced off from Raoul and Gabriela's wide cattle acres, and fortified by a high chain-link fence with surveillance cameras every fifty yards or so. From here, it looked like a military base, more forbidding, in its way, than the Salcedas' camp, back in California. But the set-up inside the perimeter was a lot more up-market than Enrique's cluster of vehicles and trailers.
They drove slowly past a guardhouse and a couple of workshops, then parked in a big round space, surfaced with pink gravel and surrounded by buildings.
Three vehicles were already here: another two Cherokees and a beautifully-cleaned 1960s Jaguar. The house itself-the casco-was an impressive two-story mansion of gray stone, maybe a couple of hundred years old, with beautiful gardens, a well-mown lawn, and groves of trees. Many of these were eucalyptus, so there was plenty of greenery, despite the winter. On the right of the casco were a dozen white-painted bungalows, set back in a row. Across the graveled area from these were workshops, a garage for Raoul's car collection, and a big sheet-metal hangar for his Jetranger helicopter. There were also stables, tool sheds, and a school area for the kids who lived on the estancia.
The Tejadas' workers were all sorts of nationalities.
The men and women they'd passed on the way in, and those trimming the lawn and gardens, looked like a mixture from all across Europe, yet John knew most of them—and knew they'd been born right here in Argentina. That was a cool thing about this country. Its people came from so many backgrounds that no one automatically looked or sounded like an outsider. In John's years of traveling round Latin America, he'd adapted almost perfectly, wherever he went, never having known anything different. But here it was especially easy to fit in, to camouflage yourself like a chameleon. Whatever color you were, however you talked or dressed, no one looked at you twice.
"Thanks for the lift,'' Sarah said as she slammed the door of the Jeep behind her. She sounded really tense now, maybe not sure of what reception they'd get. Still, Raoul Tejada had been friendly enough when they'd phoned him from Mexico City. As she walked to the house, on a tiled path through the garden, she still limped from the bullet wound she'd taken in LA. The last few weeks hadn't helped her get it better. John felt sorry for her—maybe she'd always feel it.
A woman waved from the garden. It was Rosa Suarez, calling out to them in Spanish. "Hello, Sarah. Hello, John. It's good to see you." Rosa had a couple of her kids with her: her daughter, Maria, and son, Angelo, both two or three years younger than John.
John waved back. "And you, too," he said, also in Spanish.
"Stay this time," Rosa said, switching to English.
"Yeah, Rosa, that'd be cool."
Raoul Tejada came out of the front door onto the broad verandah. His German shepherd dog, Hercules, got out the door ahead of him, bounding down the steps to greet John and Sarah.
"Good boy," John said. He laughed as the dog licked him, ran excitedly from him to Sarah, then back, putting up his front paws on John's T-shirt. "Aw, c'mon, let's not get too mushy about this."
Raoul was a very tall man in his sixties, maybe six-foot-five, with a lean, snake-hipped figure, a deep, even tan like a ski instructor, and a mop of unruly white hair that was getting thin, but not actually balding anywhere. He wore corduroy jeans and a black turtleneck. "So, we have a pair of Connors," he said in faintly accented English. "You're not here to blow up my ranch, I hope?"
"It's good to see you, too, Raoul," Sarah said with a trace of sarcasm. She patted Hercules firmly. "Calm down, boy. We know you're glad to see us."
"Come here, Hercules," Raoul said. The dog hesitated, not knowing what it wanted-to keep up its welcome to John and Sarah, or return to its master. "Come on."
Sarah winced a bit, climbing the steps to the verandah. It was cold outdoors. John found himself shivering. Maybe that made his mom's leg hurt more.
As he crouched to pet his dog, Raoul glanced Willard's way. "No problems?"
"No, everything went smoothly. The drop-off was fine. I got the money okay."
"Right. Now what about this pair?" Raoul smiled to show he was kidding.
"It all went like a song, Raoul. And here they are, at your service." Willard gave a little bow. They were probably safe here. No one at the estancia was likely to betray them. Better still, the local cops had no reason to expect them to be in Argentina, let alone out here on the Pampas.
"Okay," Raoul said "Forget about the bags, Willard-you can worry about them later. Come on in, all of you." He looked at Sarah thoughtfully. "You and John are more than welcome. I hope you know that." He left Hercules to lie on the porch—panting happily, with his tongue out— and approached Sarah. Raoul towered over her. He reached down to give her a quick hug, draping one long arm over her shoulder. Then he slapped John on the back "You look like you're doing fine, compañero"
"Hey, Raoul, I'm okay," John said.
The front room of the casco was a huge entertaining area, lined with books. It had a wooden dining table that could seat about twenty people. To the left was a study crammed with computer equipment and more books. There was a kitchen on the right, through a stone archway.
Gabriela Tejada, Raoul's wife, came down the hallway from the back of the house. She was much younger than her husband, maybe in her forties-John still found it difficult being sure of adults' ages, but the Tejadas' kids were teenagers, so it all kind of figured. She was nearly six feet tall, with a square jaw, and an impressive smile that showed very white teeth. She wore a bright, multicolored dress, with a shawl around her shoulders. "It's so good to see you both," she said. There were more hugs all round. "Come, come." She led them down the hallway to a small dining room decorated with abstract sculptures.
They sat at the formal dining table and the adults drank maté. John settled for a tall glass of Coke. "You know, Sarah," Raoul said, "I'm not sure you did the right thing blowing up that building. We've been watching the story on CNN. Then you rang me from Mexico with this story about military robots and all the rest of it. I don't know..."
Raoul probably had some really weird impression. Sarah had left a lot out in that quick call from Mexico. "You mean you don't believe me?" she said, then grunted. "Why should you? No one else does."
Raoul shrugged. "I didn't say that. It's not that I don't believe you. It just seems to me that your country might need those robots when the Russians attack."
Sarah caught John's eye for just a second, warning him not to take Raoul's theories too seriously. He was a smart guy, but with a truly paranoid view of the world. "I don't think I could begin to explain the ins and outs of it," she said. "I don't think you really want to know."
"This is all to do with that stuff about time travel or whatever it was?"
"Raoul, we're not the police," Gabriela said. "We don't have to interrogate our guests." She put her hand on her husband's. "All right?"
"Okay. Maybe I'm forgetting my manners. Still, this time travel thing. That might come in handy, too."
"Raoul!" Gabriela said warningly-but with a smile. She poured more mate for the adults. It was a couple of years since John last been here, and he'd grown up a lot since, enough to know about humoring people. It seemed that some people humored Raoul, while others went along with him. And some weren't sure. They thought he might be right, because he was so smart, but still thought he sounded kind of whacko. John could sense the different reactions, and he suddenly realized that Gabriela fitted in the third category. She seemed both proud of her husband and worried about him.
"There's still a chance that they could build Skynet and that it could start a nuclear wa
r," Sarah said.
"She could be right you know," Willard said. "We don't know what they're hiding."
Raoul looked at him shrewdly. "That may not be such a bad thing, you know. The Big One's coming, one way or another." That was his way of referring to World War Three: The Big One. "Anyhow, people, we'll be okay here, whatever happens."
Sarah said, "Be careful what you wish for, Raoul."
"I'm not wishing for anything, Sarah, just facing facts. The Russians have been trying to convince America to disarm by pretending to be your friends-all that stuff about dismantling the U.S.S.R. The end of the evil empire ... What a joke! It's a confidence trick-you mark my words. I just hope your leaders see through it. If the U.S. disarms, it's goodbye. If they can maneuver that situation, do you think the Russians will hesitate to use their warheads? That's a joke, too. Ha ha, tell me another one."
"Let's not get into all that."
"No? Well, I realize the U.S. government is hiding all sorts of things." He nodded to Willard. "But I don't think people should interfere. Your government's only doing it because they know there's a war coming. Whatever you've found out just be careful how you react. You might not have the whole story-it might not be the way it looks to you."
"We'll be ready," Willard said. "When the war comes.
We'll be ready."
In fact, the place was stocked with weapons and enough food to last for years, even leaving aside the cattle herd. Raoul had an underground bunker, his own electricity supply, ponds and small lake on his property, and a huge cistern out back of the casco. It really wasn't too bad a place to hole up for "The Big One." John only prayed they'd never need to test it out.
Sarah laughed. "If that's the way you feel, maybe you should turn us over to the cops."
"Now, I didn't say that, either. But you just be careful, Sarah. That's all."
"Whatever you think, Raoul, this particular technology must not be used. It's too dangerous. If there's any chance it might still be built, I've got to stop it, however I can."
"Only you and God can judge that. I'm not standing in your way. Just think about what you're doing, that's all. I'll say no more on the subject. Consider it closed."
After that, the conversation got more sensible. Once you got Raoul off his favorite conspiracy theories, he was okay about stuff.
While Raoul talked with Sarah and Willard, one of the Tejada kids, Carlo, came in. He was about the same age as John, though a couple of inches taller. Perhaps he'd end up as tall as his dad.
"How you doin', Carlo?" John said.
"Hi, John," Carlo said, a bit shyly.
"You must all be starved," Gabriela said. "I'll make some sandwiches."
Sarah didn't mention Skynet again, or Judgment Day. As she spoke with Raoul, John could see her making other plans. She wanted to sort out home learning for John, she knew that the Internet could become really big in the next few years—at least that was what John kept telling her—so she tried to talk Raoul into getting a connection. For the moment, he showed no interest at all, but John figured he'd come round. His mom was good at getting her way. She had ideas about work she could do on the estancia, her and John. She was back to plotting and planning. Of course, she hadn't forgotten about Skynet. John knew that They still had to do whatever was needed.
All the same, this was a pretty good place to be, for the moment, somewhere to hide out incognito. There were a few kids John's age. They were among friends. He figured he could stand it here.
ARGENTINA
1994-97
The messages from the future had said that Cyberdyne would announce its radical new hardware in August 1994. John and Sarah tracked down every scrap of business and IT news they could find. Nothing. Cyberdyne was still in business, but it made no big announcements. There was no news about any new hardware.
When they persuaded Raoul to get Internet access, it became that much easier to keep on the case. Sarah bought John his own computer and paid Raoul for a line, so John could work alone in his room, not in Raoul's study.
The days went by in school lessons, training, work on the estancia. Raoul found plenty of use for John's computer skills and his knowledge of engines. Late into the night, John sat at the keyboard, keeping his skills sharp, and finding out everything he could about Cyberdyne and its activities. He made sure he left no digital foot-prints-he'd gotten good at that quickly. Early on, he made contact with Tarissa Dyson. She was polite, but didn't want to get involved. The events of May 1994 had left her wounded. She wished John well, and sent her regards to Sarah, but that was all.
Occasionally, John e-mailed Franco Salceda. Once or twice, Franco wrote back. Basically, he was on his own.
John soon knew more about Cyberdyne than most of its employees. He understood its accounts, its business structure, its products, everything public about its research. When it moved its research arm to Colorado, he started to worry and ran from his room to tell Sarah about it. The new site was close to NORAD and a whole lot of other military stuff. Something was going on. She cursed quietly and her jaw got that determined look. Maybe Judgment Day was coming after all. All right, they'd have to deal with that.
It was late at night, but they went to Raoul's aerobics room at the back of the bungalows. There were gym mats on the floor, and a basic set of free weights in one corner. They trained hard, doing their bodybuilding and martial arts routines until the sweat poured off them and they stood, gasping, with their hands on their knees. Sarah's leg had never gotten completely better, but she still moved well.
But nothing else happened-no breakthroughs, no Cyberdyne chips getting put into aircraft, no government funding to build Skynet, or anything like it.
Late one night, in 1997, Sarah walked in while John was typing, searching, still trying to make sense of things. What was the government up to? What was Cyberdyne doing there in Colorado?
"John," Sarah said, "you've been getting bags under your eyes. Why don't you wind down for the night?"
He'd been checking the sites for military research tenders. Some of them sounded even weirder than the theories spouted by Willard and the Tejadas. The military wanted to test out all kinds of stuff. But nothing there looked quite like Skynet. He wondered whether it would ever show up like this. Willard and the others had theories about how the military worked, but John knew better than to take them too seriously. It was like a lot of other stuff around here. You took it for what it was worth, and no more. To a large extent, he had to teach himself.
"Okay, Mom," he said. "Just a minute." He didn't want to lose his train of thought so he kept typing and clicking the mouse while he talked. "I just want to finish this."
"If you stay up any later, you won't sleep. You know you need time to calm down before bed."
"Okay, okay. I said I won't be long." An interesting description of research for high-powered lasers caught his attention. He tried to make sense of the tender specifications, frowning as he peered at the screen.
"John!" Sarah said.
That startled him. "Hey?" He spun round on his swivel chair. "What?"
"Pay attention when I'm speaking to you." She wore a nightgown and her hair was combed out straight over her shoulders. She looked really intense-angry and worried at the same time. He didn't know what to say.
His mom had always been so cool, even when something was bothering her. Lately, though, she seemed upset all the time. She was often angry with him, especially when he was working at night. Didn't she understand how important it was? This was his real work. Sometimes he just needed to focus.
"John, you're a twelve-year-old boy," she said. "Don't you think it's strange that you spend your nights like this? You're acting like a work-obsessed yuppie. I'm starting to feel like a mother with an absent son." She took out a cigarette and lit it up, something she did only when she was stressed. Funny, she was so incredibly fit. Her martial arts skills were at least as good as his, and she was as strong as steel springs. But she still smoked, even though it was
bad for her. It was like she needed it to express herself.
"But we have to keep checking," he said. "Someone's got to do it."
"Yeah." She looked at him carefully, finally giving the tiniest smile of appreciation, as she held the cigarette out to the side, letting it burn down. Some ash dropped on the wooden floor. "Poor John. It's a tough job, right?"
"What do you want me to do, Mom? You taught me how important it is."
"I know, I know. But I wouldn't want you to be my boyfriend. You'd never keep a date."
"Mom!"
She laughed. "Maybe you could take things a little bit easier."
"But if they ever build Skynet, Judgment Day could still come."
"I know. God, don't you think I know that? Skynet nearly killed us both. I won't forget it in a hurry. That's why we keep training. That's why we're holed up here at the end of the Earth."
"I like Argentina, Mom."
"Sure, sure." She shook her head like it wasn't important "We can't ever let up, John. I know that. But we need a better life than this. Both of us do. This isn't normal. Everyone out there in the real world thinks we're crazy." She waved the cigarette around, then ashed it in a saucer on one of John's shelves. "If we're not careful, it'll make us crazy. Then there are the people we're shacked up with here. They really are crazy, and dangerous-type crazy at that. Same with Enrique."
"Don't worry, I know. I can tell the difference."
"If not for Judgment Day, we'd run a mile from someone like Raoul. Just don't grow up thinking Raoul's normal. He's cunning as hell, and he's cultured and charming, and all the rest of it. But he's living in a world of his own."
"Don't worry, Mom. You always worry. I know about Raoul. He's cool, but he's nuts. Right?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"He's not like my father figure or something," John said dismissively. As they talked, he was starting to understand how she felt. "Mom, aren't you happy here? Maybe we could go somewhere else?"
"And do what? We can't show our faces back home. They'd catch us sooner or later."
T2 - 01 - The New John Connor Chronicles - Dark Futures Page 5