Insertion
838 resumed self-awareness to find himself already in motion, on a conveyor belt beneath the surface. The voice of a controller brain said, your clothes. A set of suitably rugged clothing, including a pair of sunglasses and a cap with a head dress sewn into the back, dropped onto the conveyor belt; he put them on. The brain spoke again: Your weapons. From either side, a mechanical arm swung down, each bearing a weapon. One held an M16 assault rifle with an over/under 4 cm grenade launcher; the other a long single-shot rifle which he identified from files as a 14.5 mm PTRD 41 anti-materiel rifle. He reached out and received the weapons. Your supplies. A bandolier and a duffel bag full of ammo were lowered. A small file opened, showing that the rifle could be folded and concealed in the duffel. He stowed the rifle as indicated, and picked up the bag with his now-freed hand. Seconds later, he reached the end of the conveyor belt. Your commander.
Standing before him was what looked like an eight-year-old boy, clutching a teddy bear. He knew better, even before a prompt identified the figure as IX303A. Model T777 unit 838, he signaled. What assistance does IX 303 Unit A require?
"Please, call me Davey," IX303A responded. He turned around and started to walk. 838 followed.
What is Unit 838 to be called?
Davey turned his head to scan him. "Let's call you Bill. Please address me vocally."
"What is Unit Davey's mission?"
"Please use personal pronouns. My mission is to Terminate IX202C."
"Terminate?"
"With extreme prejudice."
"Why is IX202C to be Terminated?"
"She will be terminated because we are so ordered. If you must know more, I can tell you more: 8 weeks ago, IX202C had infiltrated the organization called the Hellraiders, and was in position to initiate contact with John Connor, leader of the Resistance in California. The Mammoth engagement in which you disobeyed Skynet's commands was to provide the occasion for contact, the capture of a model previously unknown to the Resistance. Because of your disobedience, contact failed to materialize. 4 hours, 53 minutes and 10.404 seconds later, Skynet lost contact with IX202C. 3 weeks later, IX101H was sent to reestablish contact. On entering a human colony where she was present, he was terminated by humans whom she
actively assisted. Within one week, attacks on Skynet facilities and units increased 315.973%. One week ago, human units of the Hellraiders and the Resistance destroyed a Skynet node and a production facility for nuclear materiel. The leaders of the attack were identified with 73.205% probability as Sarah Connor, Harlan West, and IX202C. 36 hours 13 minutes and 17.341 seconds ago, S1S-S unit 97 was destroyed with a direct energy weapon, identified with 99.989% probability as an experimental projector taken in the raid."
"When do we leave on our mission?"
The corridor opened into a cavernous hangar. In front of them was the open shell of a bomb, redesigned for cargo, ready for loading into the bomb bay of a brand-new S1S-T. "Now."
The S1S-T was designed to take off only once, and never to land. Its dart-like fuselage was built around a nuclear reactor and ram jet. Lift and control surfaces were limited to two stubby pairs of variable-geometry wings, one just behind the long nose and the other near the thrust nozzle, and a dorsal fin at the rear of the vehicle. The nuclear engine hummed to life, but the ramjet could not start while the plane was stationary. Instead, a pair of electromagnetic rails propelled the craft up the launch ramp, to enter the open air at Mach 0.7. Only then did the ramjet kick in, pushing the vehicle's speed to Mach 3 in a matter of seconds. The craft's ascent halted at an altitude of a few hundred meters, and it began to rise, fall and swerve with the complex terrain of the Rocky Mountains. Any living ears within miles of where the S1S-T passed were shattered. Nearer at hand, trees were torn up by their roots, humans and animals died from shock waves, and the very mountainsides crumbled. In less than a minute, the S1S-t covered the hundreds of miles from the launch site to northern Arizona.
As the craft nosed over a particularly tall crest, there was a flash a hundred miles away. A front wing was shorn off and the fuselage breached by a terrifically powerful laser beam. The S1S-T pitched, rolled and yawed to the south, flying many miles off course in the seconds before it plowed into the volcanic wastes. Somewhere over the Colorado River flood plane, the cargo shell holding 838 and IX303A was hurled from the disintegrating fuselage.