It has taken me a while to write it, but here is Chapter Two! I'd like to thank all those who had kindly taken time to review the first chapter, and I would like to thank those who have contributed some ideas – they are always appreciated, especially in the middle of the night when you can't sleep for that annoying condition known as 'writer's block'!
So, onwards with the next instalment...
"Too many dead ends"
James Ellison glanced up from the file he was reading. The morning sun was glinting off the windows of the towers opposite, shining into the office he was now sitting in and off the gleaming silver steel and glass of the austere furniture.
"I'm sorry?"
After a moment, Catherine turned to face him. "I said, too many dead ends, James. Each lead we manage to find brings us to another"
She watched as her head of security pushed back in his seat. "Yeah, I know. It's damn frustrating, like chasing shadows"
Her eyebrow arched. "Or rats"
Moving back to the window, she stared down onto the streets far below, a habit that she had formed over the years almost without thought. People were moving to and fro as they always did, avoiding the traffic as best they could as the vehicles flowed from one intersection to another. All calm and ordered, a repetitive pattern that never really altered from one day to the next. Many times she would stand here and watch them, for in some ways they were also a microcosm of the wider human world of which she was now a part, and from her vantage point she could witness it from afar, as a scientist would view microbes through a microscope.
It was an apt, if rather oversimplified, analogy, she thought.
However, it was also the world which she was striving to ensure would continue, instead of the nightmare of the nuclear horror and the years of bloodshed and destruction that Skynet had unleashed in the original timeline of her future. In that future, the vast and dangerous system had been able to draw upon resources and materials far and wide without opposition, but now these were being denied to it. Under her direction, and the use of several varying and unrelated companies, ZeraCorp had been quietly buying up more and more of the global stocks of Coltan, the mainstay of Terminator production, effectively starving any potential development. Through her contacts, she had also been able to divert and procure a number of military contracts that would have been highly useful to a burgeoning Skynet.
But these were only hindrances...for the beast was still hidden within in its lair, and for all her successes, she feared they were matching each move she made with one of their own in an elaborate game of chess.
Out there, out in the world beyond, it was in existence, somewhere. And into this world of uncertainty Savannah would have to grow to maturity, albeit with the advantageous input of her own prodigious knowledge, coupled with that of John Henry's incredible intellect. She would grow, and they would work together to bring about the dream that she had so long cherished.
Or so she hoped, as she hoped to avoid the nuclear apocalypse that could yet come to pass.
"We need to draw them out"
The words were softly spoken, almost but not quite a murmur, an adoption that she had found herself making of allowing her inner thoughts to be uttered. It was a strangely calming trait, and yet one that needed to be guarded against. Humans, she had found from experience, often had a habit of saying too much, and there were many secrets that needed yet to be kept.
Ellison frowned. "Draw them out?"
"Yes"
She walked back to her desk, folding her arms and looking at him in that oddly disconcerting way that she always did whenever she'd begun to form a plan of action. Although not a particularly tall woman, Weaver had a way of radiating power and that, coupled with her ice-cold stare, was often enough to silence any argument seemingly without effort, and he knew her mind was set.
"Kaliba like to work in the shadows," She continued, keeping his gaze, "They like to be unseen, unheard...and out of the spotlight. Everything we have seen so far has shown this singular truth"
James nodded "True enough"
"So, we need to take their cover of secrecy from them"
"Yeah, fine, "He was frowning again, "But how exactly do we do that?"
Catherine's lips sketched the ghost of a smile as she drew another file from a folder and handed it to him.
"We may just have a way"
Ellison gave her a surprised look as he took the file from her, and Catherine watched in silence as he opened it to read the neatly typed documents that lay within, noting his involuntary sharp intake of breath. His reaction was as she had predicted it would be, a not unreasonable one given his own position in her organisation, and his own sense of morality.
The file stayed open in his lap as he raised his eyes to meet hers.
"Kaliba have a spy in ZeiraCorp?" He sounded incredulous, again a reaction she found she could well understand," But...but how? Everyone who works here is vetted by me, doubly so in many respects!"
Her eyes seemed to soften for a moment. "It is not a failing on your part, James"
"It is if they've managed to do this!"
She walked round in front of him and leaned against the desk. "No, James, it is not. The spy was well hidden, and no doubt their cover story would have been utterly flawless. And I have never required you, or for that matter, anyone else, to pick apart the many threads of an individual's life to such a great extent"
Ellison grimaced, a manifestation of his inner frustration.
"Perhaps you should have required it"
"Perhaps..."
Catherine felt the warmth of the sun on her back, the myriad of microscopic sensors that made up the 'cells' of her liquid steel form feeding precise measurements of the heat quality, ambient temperature and humidity to her consciousness. It was comfortable, she decided, and it also had the advantage of putting Ellison into her shadow.
"But what is done is done," She said," And, as the saying goes, there is little point in crying over spilt milk, " She straightened, her tone once more becoming brisk," However, it is what we are to do now that is important"
Ellison sighed, and shut the file. "Okay, "He replied, "So...?"
Again the glimmer of a smile, and her eyes took on a wolfish look. For a human, James Ellison was intelligent and loyal, but was sometimes inclined to be overly cautious in his approach, which would not avail them now.
"So we utilise their spy in a way that will bring them out of their nest"
"You mean, bait the hook and see if they bite?"
"A very good analogy, Mr Ellison. And once we hook our fish, we can dictate what information we pass to Kaliba, and if the prize is big enough then we may just tempt them out into the daylight"
Ellison stared at her. "What prize?"
Her smile widened.
"The prize," She said, "Would be John Henry..."
"You understand your mission?"
In the subdued light, the elderly man in the dark suit leaned forward across the metal desk, a deep frown etched over his features. He was uneasy, his lined face aged before its time around his deep set eyes, the once lustrous hair, along with his beard and moustache, now thinned and dulled to silver grey. His tie was loose, the top button of his blue shirt undone and cuffs rolled up, and despite the relative cool of the room he could feel a band of sweat across his neck, the cold beads trickling down between his shoulder blades.
"I understand it, yes, but to what end?"
There was silence for a heartbeat, and then the strangely monotone voice that seemed to come from all around him spoke again.
"You are not required to know. Such knowledge is irrelevant to you"
The fingers of one hand reached up to stroke his beard in contemplation.
"No, it is not irrelevant," He replied," In fact it is very relevant indeed"
Again the slight pause, then he continued, his tone becoming kindly, like a patient father talking to his child.
"It is relevant because conditioning requires detail, a target to aim for. Certain levers can be introduced and utilised against the subject, coercion if you will, but these require subtlety...and to be subtle, the questioner needs to understand the end result that is needed, the 'endgame' if you like"
He paused and waited, but still there was no answer. He sighed, steepling his fingers before him almost as if he were about to pray. Life had been simple a mere few hours ago. He'd woken early, taken his morning walk and his breakfast as was his habit, listening to the news on the radio with little care before checking messages in his modest watch repair shop. His was a singular life, for he preferred his own company, and that of his cats.
At least cats never asked awkward questions.
However, he had been summoned, and he had known that it would be futile to resist the command. They could find you no matter how far or where you might run, a lesson he had learned very early on in his association with them. So, the dutiful servant had come to the designated place, and now he was here, before them once again as he had been so many times before.
"As I told you earlier, fear is one these levers, but it is not always the powerful tool that many think it to be. Fear can also lead to resistance, which in its turn can lead to the building of another wall that has to be broken down. Even when the subject is young this can occur. Therefore it is useful, indeed vital, that the questioner understands the eventual outcome required in order to use that fear to the maximum effect and not allow it to create such an obstacle"
Silence again greeted his words, and he felt a prickle of irritation.
"Am I talking to myself here?"
As if in answer, there was a click and the door opened to show a slim, well built man, clad in a light coloured business suit. Standing in the wash of illumination from the corridor lights that lay beyond, he could see that the man's face was set, a determined lift to his chin, and he noted that his skin appeared to be flawless.
But it was his eyes that drew his attention though. They were dead eyes, flat and without any emotion whatsoever, as indeed was his voice.
"We have heard you. You will be told when the time is correct"
"And that will be...?"
"When the time is correct"
Although there was no emotion, the words were cuttingly precise, permitting no room for debate or argument.
"You may go," The other continued," You will be sent for when..."
"When the time is correct?"
The figure in the suit gave a perfunctory nod, and the man again sighed, moving to stand and to retrieve his jacket from the back of his chair, the light catching the faded blue circle of an old tattoo on his bare forearm, it's presence a reminder of the life he had led.
He began to walk towards the door, but stopped in his tracks as the figure raised his arm, the flesh seeming to melt away to leave a gleaming bar of steel across the exit.
"Remember who it is you work for"
The man stared into the dead eyes, and swallowed hard. He had heard rumours of these models, but he'd never seen one.
"How can I forget?"
The steel bar vanished, the arm flesh once more.
"See that you do not"
The figure stepped aside, and as he passed him and walked out into the corridor the man felt another shiver run down his spine. He had done his best to forget the future, but to get his reward he'd done a deal with the devil.
And now, in this place and this time, Charles Fischer knew that the devil had come to collect what he was owed.
John Henry?
Ellison was astonished, and confused. The existence of John Henry, the whole Babylon Project, was one of the most closely guarded secrets that he'd ever known. No-one knew what was really down in the basement other than rooms full of computer servers, linked up to the main business and development systems of ZeiraCorp that allowed the company to carry on its research and corporate activities, the whole system protected for obvious reasons.
And yet here was the CEO of the company, proposing to serve up that secret on a platter?
"I don't understand," He said, shaking his head," You've always kept everything about the project classified...even from me, at the beginning"
"Indeed I have...and I still will"
"But..."
She held up a finger to silence him.
"To clarify, James. I do not intend to allow the world to know of John Henry's existence just yet. We know little of this Kaliba Group, but the evidence we have gained so far suggests that they are very interested in high-end technology companies, and a small drip-feed to the correct ears that we are endeavouring to work with Artificial Intelligence and that we have made great strides in this direction might just gain us a response."
Her smile fell away, her face becoming glacial once more," A response that John Henry can calculate the probability of and that we can use to our advantage"
"He'd be able to do that?"
"It would take him only a few moments to complete"
Ellison sighed, tossing the file back onto her pristine desk.
"It seems a dangerous strategy, though," He said, finding himself abruptly conscious of her gaze," I mean, they attacked you and Savannah. What would be to stop them doing that again?"
"They have tried once, and failed," Catherine replied," And besides, there would be no reward in such a move. The ability to gain information is a greater drive, and if they believe they can gain access to a project that will give them a powerful asset to use or to trade, then this would surely be a more profitable enterprise?"
"It's still seems to be a big risk just to follow a lead"
"A bigger risk is to do nothing"
She could see that he still had reservations, and his worry for both Savannah and herself was touching, if a trifle misplaced. Indeed one of her prime motives for suggesting that he teach John Henry had been his own moral and caring nature, so she could hardly complain when he extended that to all around him, especially after the events that had occurred.
"James, I understand your concern," She said, tempering her tone," And it's sweet that you wish to ensure our protection. But we need to bring this Kaliba group into the open," She paused, finding the relevant statement within a second," And as a great general once said, 'Fortune favours the bold"
Ellison had to admit that she was right. The search for the elusive group had proved to be fruitless, and there were so few leads to go on. The motives for the attack on Weaver and her daughter were still as yet unclear, but the carrot on a stick idea that she was proposing to use had the best chance of flushing them out, at least enough to allow ZeiraCorp to understand what they were dealing with, and to hopefully neutralise the threat.
But although he understood it, he still didn't like it.
"Ok," He said, standing," We'll play it your way. I'm assuming then you'll want surveillance on their operative?"
She gave a small nod of approval.
"Yes, I do. Whilst John Henry is quite capable of handling the CCTV systems, and will also be able to feed in the images from other city-wide cameras, I need you to work with him in the monitoring of their communications"
"Can't John Henry do that as well?"
"He can, but your training in such matters from the FBI will be invaluable" She walked back to the window, staring back out into the streets below," We must however be covert in our efforts, we need to use them, not to frighten them away. Nothing must appear to be different in routine"
Ellison re-buttoned his jacket, knowing from past experience that the meeting was drawing to a close.
"No problem, I'll go and see John Henry "
She didn't reply, but when he got to the door he heard her voice again.
"Mr Ellison?"
It was highly unusual for her to forget anything, in fact he could never recall a time when she had, but when he looked back she was still at the window.
"Yes, Mrs Weaver?"
She turned to face him.
"This morning when I dropped Savannah off at school, she mentioned something to me"
"Oh? What was it?"
"She gave me a hug as she always does, and then said that I needn't worry because we were 'Team Weaver' and that we were 'tight'," Catherine said, a puzzled look coming across her normally flawless features," I wondered if you might know what she meant?"
In spite of her serious expression, Ellison couldn't help prevent the slow grin that crept across his face at her question. From his observation of her and Savannah, although they seemed closer now than ever before, the woman still appeared to be at times rather socially difficult when it came to matters involving her daughter or children in general. It was, he supposed, a side-effect of Catherine's genius for business and technology, but at times he still made him wonder.
"Is it meant to be amusing?"
She was frowning, clearly surprised by his reaction, and he raised a hand in supplication.
"No, not at all," He said, trying to keep the laughter from his voice," It's not that, it's just that it's a good thing to hear her say"
"It is?"
"It means that you're together, close and 'tight' as they call it"
"They?" She still looked puzzled," Theybeing...who?"
"Kids...well, teenagers" He smiled again," Savannah's growing up a bit now. She'll soon be one"
She inclined her head. "I suppose she will be"
"But to say that you're a Team...well, that's good. It means you and her against the world, you know, standing together"
Standing together against the world...
Staring out of the window after he'd left, she reviewed his words, letting them play in the empty air before her. She'd let Savannah believe that she'd understood what she had said, but it was good to actually now comprehend what it meant. Deep within her, in the strange and indefinable, even illogical part of her that the girl had awoken, the knowledge that Savannah felt so strongly about her and about their still evolving relationship brought a sense of achievement that was as unexpected as it was welcome, and she found herself inextricably smiling at the thought of her new triumph...no, she corrected herself, their triumph, for this was a shared victory.
The sun had dimmed now, dark clouds beginning to gather above the tall edifices of gleaming steel and shining glass, and she knew a storm was brewing. Unconsciously she checked her watch, an unnecessary movement since the item was actually a part of herself and her own internal clock was precise, but a one that she had become a habit since being in the human world. It was fourteen-thirty. Another hour and she'd be picking the child up and there were no other after school commitments, so it would be just them tonight.
She smiled.
'Team Weaver' would face the odds...and overcome them.
Of that she was sure...