Read T2 - 01 - The New John Connor Chronicles - Dark Futures Online
Authors: Russell Blackford
"The problem isn't just the missing chip," Oscar said. "They destroyed all of Dyson's notes, all our analyses and records. Rosanna-" he nodded in her direction to stress her importance to the team "-has found some duplicate notes of her own, but as far as we've been able to establish over the past three days, that's all. It appears that Dyson did an extraordinarily thorough job of erasing everything."
"All right," Jack said. "So what's the bottom line? Can you reproduce Dyson's work or not?"
"We can," Charles said. "But it will take time. It might take a long time, even for us."
Jack gave a heavy sigh. "All right," he said. "Here's the situation. First of all, we're not blaming Cyberdyne. Believe me, you're lucky on that. The first impulse here in
"That would hardly be fair," Charles said.
"Yeah, well, don't worry about it. You don't have to argue the toss with me." He gave a cynical grin. "You're still not too popular here. We'd probably blame you if we could, but we can't, so we won't. Okay? The fact is, we've got our own contacts with the police, all through proper channels, of course. We're persuaded that Cyberdyne's security safeguards were acceptable. Connor and the others looked like a rag-tag bunch, but they managed to beat off a SWAT team and get away. God knows how they did that or who was behind them. This idea of taking the kid along is pretty scary, but the adults involved must have been highly trained, and they must have had some extraordinary technology. The reports we've had from the police sound crazy."
"Yes, and second?" Charles said.
Jack looked at the man as if he was mad. Oscar could see his point of view. Didn't Charles realize that Cyberdyne had just been let off the hook in a big way? He should be falling over himself in gratitude, or at least relief. That's how Jack would see things. But Charles didn't seem so much relieved as quietly, almost threateningly, demanding of his rights.
"Secondly," Jack said, "you've always made the claim that the Dyson nanoprocessor would make ordinary computers look like desk calculators."
"I think that was Miles's way of putting it," Oscar said.
"Well, whatever. The fact is, we still like the sound of it"
"Understood," Charles said.
"If the device can be developed, NORAD can use it."
"Very good."
"But there's a catch."
"All right. You'd better tell us about it."
"Just this. If you want to keep this project, it will have to be on new terms." Jack's phone rang. "Hold on a minute, I'll get rid of this." He went to his desk and lifted the receiver. "I meant what I said about not wanting to be disturbed. What? All right." He paused and let whoever was on the line do the talking. "Well, how could they know that?... Yeah?... All right, thanks for the info. Okay." He put the phone down, looking puzzled.
"Problem?" Cruz said.
"No, it's not exactly a problem. I'm now told the
L.A.
police have found the arm-hand apparatus, or another one like it. It got stuck in a machine at the steel mill."
"What?"
"Yeah, Oscar, I know it sounds pretty damn strange."
"Why do you think it's not the same one?" Rosanna said. She had a haunted, frightened look.
Oscar hoped she wouldn't pull out at this stage of things. "Where could a second arm have come from?" he said.
Charles said, "But you haven't found the chip?"
Jack held up his hands, saying, "One at a time, guys. I know this is getting crazier by the minute, but that's the way it is. I tell the story I heard told-okay? Now, there's still no sign of the chip. I wish I could help you on that one. We'll hand the other apparatus over to you, if you want to go ahead on our terms."
Charles nodded.
"I'm told the arm is damaged, as if it'd been torn off by something heavy. The damage suggests it's not the same one you had, though it's identical in structure. That's what they tell me. Okay? I don't know any more than that." He glanced at each of them, apparently expecting a response. When none came, he continued. "Now, I was going to set out how we want you to work in the future. First, we want Cyberdyne to conduct all its research relating to a new kind of processor and/or the 1984 remnants at a site of our choosing, one that can be protected with the capabilities of the U.S. military."
Oscar and Rosanna exchanged glances. "Very good," Charles said, ignoring them. "Where do you have in mind?"
"
"It would have to be attractive to our staff," Charles said. "They might not want to move from
"Well, we can make the place pretty nice to work in, but there's not much more we can do about your staff from our end. You'll have to deal with them yourselves."
As Jack spoke, Oscar figured that the only person he really needed to worry about was Rosanna. He'd sound her out as soon as he had a minute alone with her. Everyone else could be replaced.
"Of course, there'll be some financial details to work out," Jack said. "But you can house all your military research there. We're confident the deal will be attractive to you." He glanced at the woman from Washington, Jones. "We'd better not record the next bit."
"I agree, Jack," she said.
"Okay. We think we can help resolve some of your other problems, like the police investigation and the attitude of your insurers. I know you want the Connors found. Otherwise, I assume you'd like the loose ends tied up, so you can get on with things. That make sense?"
"You'd better tell us a bit more," Oscar said.
"Well, for example, it might be useful to you and us if we could get Dyson's widow out of your hair—see that she's paid her company life insurance, but that no one probes her too far. We'll watch her carefully in the future, just in case, but we don't want her opening any cans of worms. And maybe we could find a way to get the insurance settlement on your building expedited. All those kinds of things."
"That could be very useful," Charles said.
"Get your attorney to call me. I think a lot of it can be sorted out."
Charles nodded in Oscar's direction. "I'll let you deal with that"
"Sure, Charles." Oscar made a mental to call Fiona Black from the airport.
"Good," Charles said. "Now, Jack, if we take up your offer on the
"Of course you can't. Will you get their approval?"
"Write down the financial details for us. If they're reasonable, I can deliver the Board."
"I'll send you a fax, then. It'll be waiting for you back in LA."
"Very good." Charles got to his feet. "It's been a pleasant meeting—and very useful."
"Yeah, it's been a practical one. I guess that's about all we needed to discuss. Thanks for coming, gentlemen. Nice to meet you, Dr. Monk."
Outside in the sunshine, Rosanna took Oscar's arm. "This is all pretty creepy," she said. Charles walked a few steps ahead of them, head bowed in thought. He was never one for small talk.
"Which bit?" Oscar said.
"Well, the arm apparatus in particular... and all of it in general."
"Yeah... It is strange. Is it bothering you?"
"Of course it's bothering me," she said, almost hissing the words.
"What do you want to do?" he said carefully.
"Put it this way, Oscar-just look after me. All right? I can do weird science for you, and I'll go to
Oscar breathed a sigh of relief. Strange as it all was, that was what he wanted to hear. Rosanna was very capable, and a lot of their problems might be over if Jack and his people could pull off what he claimed. "You'll be fine," Oscar said. "You'll be a great Director of Special Projects. Congratulations."
But she gripped his arm harder, digging in with her nails. "Yeah, that's cool. Just make sure Mr. Reed keeps me alive." Then she released him and laughed. "You do that, and I'll promise to enjoy myself in
L.A.
A happy Dr. Frankenstein is a productive one. Right? I just don't want to be a dead one, not like poor Miles. Is that a deal, Oscar?"
"Yeah, Rosanna. If that's all you want." He shrugged. "It's a deal. Word of honor."
MEXICO CITY
,
MEXICO
AUGUST, 2001
"Hey, you still with us, partner?" Sarah said, wandering back to see what he was doing.
John realized he must have been drifting away. "What, Mom? Sorry..."
"I said, are you still with us? You looked lost in thought."
"I was thinking about Cyberdyne, and Judgment Day."
Sarah nodded at the computer terminal. "Was there anything new?" These days, she was always tense when she asked that.
"No, not tonight"
"Well, that's a pleasant change."
"I know. I wish we'd finished Cyberdyne off completely."
"You're not the only one, partner. Let's give up for the night. Tomorrow's another day."
The trouble was, he often did find stuff, and not just about Cyberdyne, though there was plenty of that He also kept up with more general developments in artificial ' intelligence, with what U.S. Defense was doing about research into new weaponry, with ideas about enhancing the NORAD system—anything that might be relevant. Not a day went by without some important development in the AI field, or someone reputable speculating about new kinds of computer hardware, or something else, completely out of left field, that just might be relevant to Judgment Day.
His main worry was still Cyberdyne. It was going from strength to strength, and lifting its public profile. When Bill Joy, the cyber guru, had expressed his fears about AI and nanotechnology in Wired magazine, Oscar Cruz, the President of Cyberdyne, had responded all over the Internet, reassuring everyone and getting as much free publicity as he could. That was over a year ago, now, but it still seemed like you couldn't avoid Cruz's name, not if you spent any time on the Net. It seemed to be spreading like wildfire. If you typed "Oscar Cruz" into the
Google
search engine, it came back with about a million hits. Some of Cruz's research scientists, like Rosanna Monk, were almost as famous.
When they'd left Raoul and Gabriela's estancia, they hadn't expected Cyberdyne to haunt them, and it hadn't at first, but now it was getting to them. Sarah had been growing more like her old, intense self. Maybe they needed to change something about their lives. The cyber cafe was a nice business, but the name and the decor ought to change. If Judgment Day might still be coming, the big Last Judgment painting overarching the room was out of place. It was like they'd crowed too soon. Skynet would have the last laugh.
"Let's tidy everything up for the night," John said, standing and stepping around the desk.
"I've finished most of that," Sarah said. "We can do a final scour of the place, if you like, then call it quits."
"Excellent."
They spent ten minutes getting the place spic-and-span: throwing out wrappers and drink cans that the customers had left behind; cleaning surfaces; washing dishes and cutlery in the kitchen out the back.
"I don't like the way things are heading, John. I'm starting to get nightmares again."
"I know. Me, too."
"Are you?" she said, looking at him with fear in her eyes.
"Uh-huh. Dreams about the missiles... and the explosions."
"Oh, God, I thought that was my cross to bear." Suddenly, she reached out and hugged him close to her. He was now taller than his mother, and she seemed somehow vulnerable when he embraced her, though they still trained each day and he knew how tough she was.
"Come on, Mom, maybe it'll all be okay."
"Sometimes I dream about the missiles," she said, as they let each other go. "Other times, we're back in
L.A.
and the T-1000 is still after us. We can't find a way to destroy it."
"It's all right. I have that dream, too. We were lucky, weren't we?"
"I wonder whether we should move," Sarah said, closing a drawer full of cutlery. "Leave
Mexico City
. It's so hard to know what to do."
"That's the sort of thing I was thinking about," John said. "You want to go back to the States?"