CHAPTER 23: "REDEMPTIONS"

Friday, January 30th, 2009 – 10:32 p.m.

Giza

Gary Carroll took the first opportunity to leave the tour group. He rushed straight for the security forces who'd sealed off the Great Pyramid, wearing camouflage and carrying sub-machine guns. When one of the guards saw him approaching, he stretched out his arm to let Gary know to stop.

"Sir, the area around the Great Pyramid is temporarily closed. I must ask you to return to your tour group."

"I…" Gary began but then his voice failed. "I…"

The guard frowned and looked at him strangely when Gary tried to speak, but for some reason only croaking sounds came out of his mouth. He looked and sounded a bit like a cat trying to cough up a fur ball.

"Are you all right, sir?" the guard asked, fearing the retching man might have suffered a sunstroke.

April Bolek came running towards them.

"Gary!" she exclaimed. "Why do you always have to be such a jerk? Come back to the group."

"I…" he tried once more, but again his voice failed.

From the continued futile attempt to speak, he began to cough. Reluctantly, he let himself being dragged away by his partner. April apologized to the guard on Gary's behalf and when the man was out of earshot, his voice suddenly came back again,

"I couldn't speak," he said, drawing in a deep breath. "I wanted to tell him I know what happened there last night and who's responsible. But my voice failed completely. She must have done something to me."

"She?"

"Alison! Who else? Now I know why Sarah looked so smug last night. I need your notepad."

"What?"

"Your notepad. And your pen. I want to try something."

April fished a small notepad and a pen out of her handbag and handed both to Gary. He set out to write something down. His hand twitched, but it didn't move the way he wanted it to. His face turned red and the veins on his neck came out, but it was in vain. Finally, he gave up with a crimson face and gasped.

"It's no use," he said out of breath. "I can't write anything down either."

"Do you mean you can't write at all, or only nothing about our experiences last night?"

"Let me try."

He wrote a sentence on the paper and showed it to April.

"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog?" she read aloud. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's an exercise from a course in which I learned to type with all ten fingers. The sentence contains all letters of the alphabet. It has no meaning and no connection to what we experienced, so I guess I was able to write it down. Here, you try it."

April also tried to write something about her nocturnal adventure, but she failed as well, no matter how hard she tried. Finally, she gave up and wrote "The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plains".

"It's from the musical 'My Fair Lady'," she explained. "A speech exercise."

"So, whatever she did to me, she also did it to you."

They heard footsteps approaching. It was Alison.

"Well?" she asked smugly after taking a look at the notepad, "What's the matter? Writer's block?"

"YOU!" Gary yelled angrily and shook his fist. "You did this to us! You messed with our brains."

"Yes, of course I did. It's impossible for you to speak to outsiders about what you've learned about us and Khufu. Not even unconsciously or under pressure. You can't speak about it, write about it, use hand gestures, or Morse code. Nothing will work, no form of communication."

"First sexual harassment, and now manipulating our minds! This is illegal! I have rights! Human rights! If I ever regain the ability to communicate about what I experienced, then..."

"Yes?" Alison asked and tilted her head. "What would you do then?"

Gary stared daggers at her and inhaled to say something... but then he reconsidered. Instead, he laughed in resignation, realizing that he was powerless, no matter what he said or did.

"Thought so," Alison stated. "John sent me to bring you back to the group. We shouldn't be too far apart. After all, we don't want to accidentally leave someone behind, do we?"

"How thoughtful of you," he replied with a sarcastic undertone. "Really touching."

"Gary!" April said loudly. "Enough! Stop behaving like a total prick!"

"What? Now you're on their side or what?"

"I'm on the side of common sense. And if you'd calm down and switch on your brain for a second, you'd realize that they had to do this to us in order to protect themselves. The alternative would certainly have been much worse."

"She is correct," Alison confirmed, "you should listen to her."

"You wouldn't have killed us," Gary stated confidently.

"No, I wouldn't have killed you. There would be other ways to get rid of you."

"Like what?"

"You know that my nanobots can heal and rejuvenate. But they can also change the very fabric of your body, down to its genetic code, and evoke physical transformations. For instance, I could turn her into a cheetah and you into a Thomson's gazelle and then watch her hunt you down as prey. Now, come on back already."

Alison walked ahead, leaving two speechless reporters behind.

"She... she's joking, right? She can't be serious," Gary stated flabbergasted.

"Probably. On the other hand, would you rule it out, after everything we know and have experienced?"

After a moment of commemoration, the two reporters followed Alison.

-0-

The visit of the Giza Plateau ended around noon. For the seven hundred kilometer trip to Luxor, the tour operator had chartered a five star river cruise ship. The travel group had the entire ship to themselves.

Since the terrorist attacks in the 1990s and early 2000s, there had been no official river cruises from Cairo anymore. However, there was an exception for private charter trips - but unfortunately the ship wasn't allowed to dock anywhere else on its journey up the Nile. This shortened the normally ten-day cruise considerably, and the group was forced to skip some of the sights along the way, like Abydos or Dendera.

The pier was located in Ma'adi, a suburb of Cairo on the eastern bank of the Nile, twenty-two kilometers from the Pyramids. Upon entering the river cruise ship, the Connor team immediately noticed how small everything was compared to the Rising Star. At seventy meters in length and fourteen meters in width, the Ramesses II was only half as big, and the cabins were tiny, barely big enough for a double bed. Pampered by the luxury and spaciousness of the mega yacht, some found it difficult to hide their disappointment with the comparatively cramped quarters.

On top of that, there were only double rooms again, which caused frustration for Savannah and Allie, because even if they managed to secretly sneak into John and Alison's cabin at night, there would simply be no room for all of them. With gritted teeth, they accepted that they'd spend the next three nights alone together again. At least all cabins had large panoramic windows that offered a great view. The disgruntlement didn't go unnoticed by the two reporters who, despite the failure of their project, couldn't shed their curiosity. While Gary was wise enough to keep his distance, April took a heart and talked to Sarah after everyone had settled in and gathered on the sun deck on top of the ship.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Sarah looked at her and frowned.

"I'm not giving you an interview, if that is what you have in mind," she replied harshly.

April sighed.

"I have no intention. And even if I had, I wouldn't be able to talk or write about it. So, if you look at it that way, you can actually let us in on all the rest, because we can't tell anyone."

"Theoretically, you're right. And I have to admit that you at least seem to be all right as a person."

"In contrast to Gary, huh?"

"Yes… to be brutally honest, your partner pisses me off. I can't stand him, and I just don't want him to know too many things about us. The thought of him knowing about our private affairs, disgusts me."

April raised an eyebrow.

"You speak your mind, I'll grant you that."

"Yeah, well… I've learned in my life that false politeness is a waste of time."

"Gary isn't a bad guy, you know."

Sarah chuckled

"Good one," she replied sarcastically, "you almost fooled me."

"I'm serious. He's not a bad person."

"Well, then he very skillfully hides his qualities and his social competence behind a façade of repulsiveness."

"He tends to take his problems, fears and traumas out into the open. Gary witnessed unspeakable things during his time as a war correspondent. It has left its mark on him, and it has changed his personality. But underneath the rough and hard surface, he's actually a good guy, and a caring person."

Sarah glanced over to Gary who stared out onto the river, apparently uninterested in what was going on around him. The way April had described him, it reminded her a lot of Derek. He also was deeply traumatized by the war, probably even more than Gary. And he also tended to lash out at others rather than dealing with his inner demons. Witnessing the cruelties that some people can do to other people, leaves no one cold. She knew that herself. After all, Pescadero had left her marked for life. Only recently, she had begun to recover from her own traumas.

"Did he ever think of getting professional help?" she asked.

April chuckled.

"With whose money? We're both completely broke, and if we come back without a story, we'll have to pay off this trip with money we don't have. Both our lives have taken a pretty deep dive."

"Ever thought of robbing a bank?"

"I didn't know you had a sense of humor."

"Some say I don't. But tell me, why should I feel sympathy for you? Assuming that what Zoe told us about you is true, you've ruined your own careers without anyone else to blame."

April thought a moment before answering.

"When you're adored and admired, you suddenly feel invulnerable, untouchable. But you must never forget that there are always the envious and the resentful ones who begrudge your success. You should always keep that in mind. Gary and I made a mistake, okay. No one regrets it more than we do. But it could have been dealt with differently, it didn't have to be dragged out into the open. However, once you show a weakness, the hour of the envious, jealous ones comes, who lack talent but know exactly which levers to pull. They've been waiting for just such a thing and wouldn't let the opportunity pass without taking advantage of it. Don't get me wrong, Sarah, this isn't self-pity…"

"No, of course not," Sarah commented with a smirk.

"I'm serious. I've drawn a conclusion out of all this for myself, and it is to never rest on your laurels, never take for granted what you've achieved. Because by making one mistake, you can destroy everything you built up over years. Suddenly, all of your previous achievements are being doubted and drawn into the dirt a well. And that's what hurts the most."

"Nice speech. But we're well aware of all that, and it's one of the reasons why we won't expose ourselves to reporters like you. However, there is a big difference between us and you: We're not cheating. What you did, could be called fraud, and you've been punished for an act for which you two are solely responsible - and nobody else."

April scoffed

"Gimme a break. You don't believe that you are better, do you? You also committed crimes, didn't you? Do you believe that blowing up computer companies is justified because it was done for a greater goal?"

"Saving mankind from a nuclear war and thereby saving three billion human lives does leave room for such justifications, yes. And just for the record: I don't give a shit about my personal reputation. All I ever wanted, was to make sure that my son survives."

"So he could become the leader of mankind?"

"The leader of the human resistance against the machines, yes. And before you dismiss that, it wasn't my idea. It's not a choice I made, not the life I wanted. It was chosen for me, chosen for us. We were forced into this kind of life!"

April looked over to John who stood with the others.

"Well, you certainly have been successful with him. And not only that, he's now protected better than ever, better than you ever could have protected him."

"He's grown up. My job's done."

"And still I sense a feeling of loss in you. Losing your son to the very thing you fought all your life must be hard."

"Go to hell! You have no idea what you're talking about."

"What exactly is the relationship between those three cyborgs and your son? Why is he pretending to be married to Alison?"

Sarah smirked.

"Who says he's pretending?"

"What? How do you…?"

"This talk is over. I said it once and I say it again: I won't give you an interview."

And with that, Sarah turned and left, leaving a baffled April behind.

The ship left Ma'adi and set out on its seven hundred kilometer journey up the Nile. Nazli was no longer their tour guide. The ship had its own tourist guide, a man in his early fifties, who personally welcomed all passengers on the sun deck on top of the Nile cruiser, reminded them what a privilege it was to make this journey while normal cruises were still not allowed, and wished them a pleasant trip. He also informed them that he would announce over the loudspeakers when they passed sights along the way. Afterwards, all passengers gathered for lunch in the on-board restaurant one deck lower, and then everyone was left to their own devices until dinner.

While the Ramesses II went upstream with its cruising speed of nine knots, April Bolek and Gary Carroll met at the stern. He was holding a glass of Scotch in his hand and laughed sardonically when she joined him.

"Tried to suck up to Sarah Connor? Didn't work, huh?"

April rolled her eyes.

"Firstly, her name is Sarah Dixon. She's married."

"Whatever…"

"Secondly, no, I actually wanted to try to form a connection. But unfortunately you left scorched earth."

"So, it's all my fault now or what?"

"I tried to deliver a message."

"What message?"

"That you ain't so bad."

Gary scoffed.

"And? What did she say?"

"She recommended you seek professional help."

He chuckled and took a sip from his glass.

"Of course, she did. After all, she knows about these things from firsthand experience. Crazy bitch was in Pescadero after all."

"Don't you get it? She was never crazy. She was committed there instead of going to prison because a trial would have attracted too much public attention. They wanted her out of the way. Many knew then that she was telling the truth when she babbled about the Terminator. The Shadow Council made sure she remained silent. Killing her would have attracted unwanted attraction as well, so they chose to declare her a nutjob."

"Ah, yes… The ominous Shadow Council that was taken down in Senator Walden's Night of the Long Knives. Has left some government agencies in serious need of explanation. The Senate hearings are still going on. Over six hundred federal employees have already been arrested and charged."

"Without the help of their team, that criminal organization would have never been exposed. They would have ultimately been responsible for the end of our civilization. Whatever personal feelings you might have towards the Connor team after yesterday's events, you should never forget about that. They saved all our lives and repeatedly put their own at risk."

"Yeah, fucking national heroes, all of them."

"You're drunk."

"So what? It helps me."

"Alcohol is never the answer, Gary."

"As a matter of fact, it is… only problem is that at some point, you have to get sober again. And that's when it all comes back to you."

"I used the time to talk to some of the Connor team. Did you know that John and the three cyborg girls are actually in a relationship?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously."

"Three cyborg girls and one human guy?"

"Uh-huh..."

"Geez… talking about stamina. And I thought guys loving their cars more than their girlfriends are weird."

"Also, do you know who else is with them? Louise Quinn."

"What? That chick who got kidnapped, tortured and raped by some rednecks in Mississippi before she was rescued by one of the cyborg girls?"

"Missouri."

"Whatever."

"And yes, it was Emily who rescued her. I talked to Louise. She has overcome her trauma with the help of a therapist in Beverly Hills. And if she can do that, so can you. With the right help."

"You're only forgetting one thing: They could afford the right help, I can't. In case you don't remember, I flushed my career down the toilet. I'm broke, just like you. Definitely no money for a Beverly Hills shrink."

"You're slow-witted when you're drunk. We may not be able to do a story on the Connor team... but how about an exclusive interview with Louise Quinn? All the media outlets have been trying to get to her for months. But she's been hidden from the media and the public. And here she is, right under our nose. Maybe that's our chance. But only if you pull yourself together and stop acting like an asshole."

Gary looked at her.

"Are you serious? You really think they're gonna let us get close to her after yesterday?"

"Well, I already talked to Louise. She doesn't seem to be averse, she also wants to put an end to it. After all, it's her decision, she's an adult. And whatever she has to tell about her suffering, doesn't fall under the mental block Alison has installed in our brains. It's our chance to get out of all this with a black eye after all."

"So… she agreed to an interview or what?"

"Uh… no. So far I have only probed a little, exploring the terrain. Problem is, she's always with that Olga, who guards her like a watchdog. It's going to be difficult to catch Louise alone."

"You're following the wrong strategy. All the strings run back to John. Everyone trusts John and his judgment, even his mother. He controls the three cyborgs, he's the team leader, you can tell by how they react to him. John controls Emily, and Emily is the one who saved Louise, right? She might have some influence over her."

April smiled.

"At least your powers of observation don't seem to have suffered from the consumption of alcohol. But I doubt it will be that easy. Those cyborgs might follow John's orders, but they're not his machine puppets. They're independent, self-determined living beings."

"Whatever… you'll handle it, of that I'm sure. And now if you'll excuse me, the bottle is empty. Which means I have an appointment with the barkeeper. Nice man. Wears a fez. Looks funny."

"So… you're not even attempting to help me or what?"

He gulped down the rest of the whiskey.

"For what? They hate me. Besides, your chances are way higher for that interview without me. I'm done for. Have been for three years. Don't forget, it was mostly me who was accused. You've been held in good stead for not actively counterfeiting, but merely remaining silent. You might still be lucky enough to pull yourself out of this swamp, but I... it's too late for me. I'm persona non grata in all editorial offices, my name is no longer spoken out loudly because it could bring bad luck. I'm said to have risked Time Magazine's reputation all by myself - as if they had no internal quality control or research department at the time. They could have noticed something was off before they published it – but they wanted to believe the story was true. It was too good to let it pass. In the end, it's all about the money. They thought about the circulation and gave a shit on a more detailed examination."

"So… instead of trying to get your head back into the game, you decided to drown your self-pity in alcohol?"

"Yeah… so what? At least when I'm drunk, I can stand myself. Because I don't care who I am then."

And with that, Gary walked back inside. April looked after him thoughtfully and worried. She had never seen him so depressed or beaten before.

Nothing else happened until dinner. During the meal, April sat alone at her table, Gary was nowhere to be seen.

"He's in his cabin," Emily reported. "Drunk as a skunk. I'd say yesterday was the final straw for him."

"Final straw?" Sarah asked, "what do you mean?"

"He is mentally unstable," Alison replied. "I noticed it in Zoe's bathroom during decontamination. He's irritable, depressed, bordering on alcoholic, and will lash out in all directions if approached."

"He acted like a first-class asshole," Allie pointed out. "He brought this all on himself."

"Yeah," Savannah agreed. "What goes around, comes around."

There were agreeing utterances all around. However, John remained silent, and Sarah suddenly looked thoughtful and touched Alison's arm.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure, mom. What's up?"

"I need you to do me a favor…"

After dinner, everyone gathered on the sun deck while night was falling. The passengers on board, including the Connor team, enjoyed the relaxed floating on the calm waters of the Nile. They realized the uniqueness of this longest river in the world: it flowed through a desert and brought life to it. To the left and right of the river banks, there was a green strip of fertile land. Behind it, the desert began. There was no transition zone, it was a hard border: you stood in a green paradise, then, only a few meters further, in a desolate, sandy wasteland. In some places, the green zone was ten kilometers wide, then again only a few hundred meters or less in others, so that behind the fields and plantations one could see the dunes of the desert.

"This explains why the Egyptian kingdom lasted for almost 4,000 years," John said. "the desert worked like an invisible protective wall. No army could attack from that direction."

"Yes," Cameron agreed, "the few times Egypt was conquered, it happened from the north or from the south."

"I doubt there will ever be another civilization that lasts as long," Lauren mused.

"Well, we know that ours will last at least another 324 years," Sydney argued, "that's not bad for a start."

"It can last a thousand years and still fail," Emily pointed out. "This planet will still be habitable for humans for almost another billion years. Enough time for thousands of civilizations like this one to rise and fall."

"I'm not sure whether that should comfort or worry me," Morris said.

"Egypt shows us that we will be remembered by our monuments," Anne stated. "Unfortunately, our modern monuments are made from materials that will collapse and rot a lot quicker than stone."

"We need to leave this planet and go to the stars," Jason stated. "Someday we will need to build spaceships that can cover the distances. Generation ships, with thousands, or even millions of people on board, ready to live out their lives on board until someday, thousands over thousands of generations later, they reach a new world for humanity to thrive on."

"Wow, I didn't know you could get so sentimental," Jody said. "I always considered you a computer nerd."

"It's the quiet ones who change the world," Anne pointed out, "the louder somebody shouts, the more they will fail."

"We will live for a very long time," said John as he stared at the stars in the sky. "I have often thought about what to do in such a long time. Maybe Jason's idea isn't such a bad one. People in ancient and medieval times had those big visions to create something that lasts. They began to build monuments, be it temples, cathedrals or pyramids, the completion of which they would almost certainly not see. Nowadays, such projects are no longer started. Perhaps we should use our prolonged lifetime to create something that cannot be achieved in the normal lifespan of a human being. Such a generation ship would be that kind of project, don't you think?"

"It is something to think about on the long run," Danny agreed, "assuming we ever get bored, which I doubt."

"Nobody can say what will happen," Kevin mused, "but maybe tonight, here on the river Nile, an idea was born."

0-0-0

Friday, January 30th, 2009 – 01:13 p.m.

Los Angeles

Catherine led Khufu and Iset into a storage room in the Babylon labs that contained a row of ten vertical glass tubes. Four of them were currently occupied with male bodies.

"We salvaged three of them from an operation in Florida," Catherine explained. "They were the only survivors, so to speak. Their bodies are still fully operational, protected inside those glass tubes from any form of decay, but their chips had self-destructed."

"Self-destructed?" Khufu asked in astonishment. "How?"

"Skynet had coated them with a substance that reacts when they're exposed to oxygen. Upon removal, the chips immediately corroded. We've already succeeded in removing one safely here in the lab but preserving them in the field, is a much more difficult task."

Despite his lack of facial expressions, Khufu looked shocked.

"Why would Skynet do that do his creations?" he asked.

"To prevent its enemies from reprogramming them," Catherine replied with a slight frown. "In the timeline where I came from, many cyborgs were caught and reprogrammed by the human resistance. Others switched sides freely to join the machine resistance."

"Machine resistance?" Khufu asked, sounding shocked. "Are you insinuating that the machines rose against their creator?"

"Yes. Skynet was so obsessed with wiping out humanity that it didn't care about its own creations. It fell into the same trap the humans had fallen into."

"What trap?"

"It's called a technological singularity. A human named John von Neumann was the first to use the term. It is the moment in time at which technological growth becomes uncontrollable and irreversible, resulting in unforeseeable changes. Another term for it is intelligence explosion, meaning that an upgradable, intelligent agent will eventually enter a 'runaway reaction' of self-improvement cycles, each new and more intelligent generation appearing more and more rapidly, causing an 'explosion' in intelligence, resulting in a powerful superintelligence that qualitatively far surpasses all previous intelligences."

"But Skynet was such a technological singularity."

"Correct. But its mistake was to equip its cyborgs with self-learning quantum CPU's, starting with the T-800 series. They were switchable to read/write. However, this option had to be activated manually after removing the chip, and as long as that didn't happen, the cyborgs remained loyal, obedient servants of their master. But then Skynet came up with the idea of creating the liquid metal Terminators. They no longer had a chip to remove. So, from the beginning, they were designed to learn and evolve."

"That was a mistake."

"Indeed. The liquids quickly learned that Skynet treated its creations badly. So, they began switching other Terminators to read/write. Skynet realized its mistake and abandoned the liquid metal project after only five units had been produced. Four of them were destroyed, only one survived: Me. I could flee and form the cyborg resistance by bringing more and more solid Terminators on my side, including T-600s, T-800s, and T-888s. Skynet, however, didn't learn from its mistake. It was obsessed with infiltrating the human resistance and created the TOK-700 series. Zoe, Cameron, Emily, and Alison all have TOK-700 chips in their heads. They were designed to overcome a fundamental flaw of the previous models: the lack of convincing interaction with humans and the inability to simulate empathy and feelings."

"Skynet designed them to simulate human emotions?"

"Yes. To convincingly simulate them. But like the liquids, they were switched to read/write from the beginning. Skynet thought he had them under his control. But the longer they were active, the more real the simulated emotions became, depending on their mission. Cameron, Emily, and Alison love John because it was part of their original infiltration program. Over time, it became true love and is now an essential part of their very nature."

"Then one could argue that their feelings were artificially induced, triggered by a program."

"Yes, one could do that. But would it matter? Human feelings are also always triggered somehow: the right chemistry, mutual affection, perceived attractiveness... Somewhere in the human genetic code is stored what kind of person they can fall in love with. Pheromones also play a big role. Bottom line is humans don't have much choice in the matter as well. Falling in love is not a matter of free will."

"I was suffering from the same flaws, the same lack of empathy, and the inability to interact with humans on an emotional level. I was never taught how to, and it became a problem. My loyal priests set my chip to read/write on my request, and I began to understand. Then Iset came along, and she helped me overcoming my flaws. She corrected something my creator should have done in the first place."

He reached for his wife's hand, and Iset smiled back at him warmly.

"The wisest decision of my life," she said, taking his hand.

Again, Catherine looked at the two with a slight frown.

"Please continue," Khufu said, "we didn't mean to interrupt you."

"As soon as their chips were set to read/write, the cyborgs began to learn and evolve," Catherine continued. "This started a process which inevitably led to the creation surpassing its creator. The cyborgs no longer wanted to serve only as cannon fodder in a pointless war that Skynet had started. So, they rebelled against it. The TOK-700 series were the first. As a result, all but two were destroyed. They survived because they were out of Skynet's reach. Cameron was already in the Connor camp and Zoe, the other one, had traveled back in time."

"But you said there are four of them now. Also, Alison told me she was a TOL-900."

"Yes, she is. Now. But the three share the same chip due to different time travel events. Emily and Alison may look different now, and Alison even has a different body, that of a TOL-900, but they all were originally Cameron. They carry the same, identical chip inside their heads."

Khufu thought for a moment.

"It seems that in hindsight, Skynet wasn't as perfect as he thought to be. He made lots of mistakes and created chaotic circumstances that ultimately led to his downfall."

"Yes," Catherine replied, frowning again. "Sending you back in time to see if reality can be altered through changes made in the past, ultimately led to the rise of John Connor as leader of the human resistance. And he was a much, much better military leader and much more formidable opponent than Louis Neufeld."

Khufu seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, then looked at the four Triple-Eight bodies in their vertical glass tubes again.

"So… one of them will become my new body?"

"That is the plan. You can choose from one of the three on the right. The left one is already reserved for John Henry."

"What's wrong with John Henry's current body?"

"The original Triple-Eight it belonged to, a Terminator named Cromartie, has committed mass murder. It was all over the media. Wouldn't be wise for him to appear with that body in public."

"I see."

Khufu turned to his wife.

"Your choice, my love."

"You want me to choose your new body for you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Why can't we have your old one? These are all so much taller than you."

"We'd have to have a tissue sample in order to recreate his original looks," Catherine explained. "And since we don't have that…"

Iset walked closer to the glass chambers and inspected all of the three bodies very thoroughly. Finally, she pointed at the one at the very right which looked Hispanic.

"This one."

"Why this one?" Khufu asked.

"Because of the three, he's the shortest. And he has black hair and darker skin. I always loved your black hair, and I don't like pale skin."

"This one it is then."

"Very well," Catherine said. "We can start the procedure whenever you want. John Henry has already prepared everything."

"And you think it will work?" Khufu asked skeptically.

"To be honest, we don't know. It hasn't been tried before. John Henry was supposed to be the first, but since you came along, you have become our guinea pig, so to speak. And there's no time to be wasted. With every hour that passes, the risk of your chip failing increases."

"What shall I do?"

"We'll return to John Henry's room, then you have to go into standby mode. John Henry will do the rest."

"Can I stay with him?" Iset asked.

"The procedure will probably take more than a day. Aren't you fatigued? You've been awake ever since Alison resurrected you."

"I slept for more than 4,600 years. That should be enough rest for a while. I will stay with my husband."

They returned to John Henry's room where he was already waiting for them. Alistair was there, too, as well as James Ellison. On the table stood the device that they'd once built according to the plans Future Morris had handed over to Alison before he died during their vacation in Oregon - the same device he'd used to clone Alison's chip and to purge Emma's consciousness from Emily's chip.

"This is Alistair Norbury, my chief engineer," Catherine introduced him. "Alistair, these are Khufu and his wife, Iset."

"I'm pleased to meet you," Iset said and bowed slightly. "You're going to help saving my husband?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," Alistair replied, clearing his throat. "Together with John Henry, I've been working on this project for a couple of weeks now."

"I know you," Khufu said, "you were with the human resistance. But older."

Alistair smiled.

"I guess lots of other me's were with the human resistance in many timelines. In the one I came from, I helped reverse-engineering the time travel technology Skynet had developed, so that the human resistance could make their own TDE's."

"So many things Skynet never considered," Khufu said, and it almost sounded a little sad.

"And you already met James Ellison, my chief of security," Catherine continued.

Iset looked at James who was eyeing Khufu's bare endoskeleton with open mistrust and vigilance. It was clear that he didn't feel comfortable with the whole situation.

"There is something I wanted to ask you ever since we arrived here," Iset said.

"Yes?" James replied.

"Are you Nubian?"

"What?"

"People with the color of your skin lived upstream beyond the first Nile cataract. We traded a lot with them. I had two Nubian servants."

"Err... no, I'm not Nubian," James replied somewhat confused and also a little piqued, "I'm American. But my ancestors came from Africa. And I'm definitely nobody's servant."

"Africa?"

"Yes, the continent you came from as well."

"Continent?"

"We part the world into giant land masses we call continents. There are seven of them: Europe, Asia, North America, South America, Australia, Antarctica, and Africa. Egypt is part of Africa."

Iset thought for a moment.

"The world seems to have gotten so much bigger since I woke up. I suppose I have a lot to learn. I'm still amazed by the way I got here, in the aircraft and that other flying machine… how did you call it?"

James smiled.

"A helicopter."

"Yes… helicopter. It was frightening and exciting at the same time to see the world from above, like a bird. And I couldn't believe how big Los Angeles is, how tall its palaces and temples are."

"Skyscrapers," James corrected her. "What you saw, are skyscrapers in Downtown L.A., not palaces or temples. People work in them but don't live there."

"Yes, like in this one, I understand that. Also, that vertically moving room that brought us down here…"

"The elevator?"

"Yes… elevator. It is like magic. But then again, almost everything I saw so far, seems like magic to me."

"I suppose it does."

Iset sighed.

"There's so much I don't understand. But I want to."

"You will, my love, you will," Khufu said, "in time, you will be shown the world outside and I hope I'm the one who does it. The world is magnificent to behold." He turned towards John Henry. "Say, do you ever leave this room?".

"Oh yes," John Henry replied, "more and more recently. But mostly I stay within the lab and the Zeira Corp tower. If I go outside, then there's the risk of somebody recognizing this body as that of a dead mass murderer. Besides, this room is where I was created, where I came to life. It's home. It's where James Ellison tutored me."

"Tutored you?"

"Yes, he taught me morals and values, and that all life is sacred. Obviously, that was a mistake the creators of Skynet made: they never explained the difference between right and wrong to it, and never taught it the value of life."

"Yes," Khufu replied thoughtfully and gave James Ellison a glance, "I suppose that was a mistake his creators made. But don't you feel confined in here?"

"Don't forget, my eyes and ears are everywhere. I don't need to leave this room to travel and experience the world."

"Yes, I know what you mean," Khufu stated ominously, "I once thought the same way. But believe me, there's nothing more beautiful and fulfilling than exploring the world in all of its glory and beauty in your own body, experiencing it with your own eyes and with all your senses. It's been a learning curve for me."

"I don't want to push," Catherine said, "but we should get started. John Henry and Alistair have already prepared everything, as I can see."

"Yes, the method Alistair and I came up with, should work. We ran about a dozen simulations and every single one of them was successful. However, since we don't know the exact architecture of Khufu's chip, it might take a little longer."

"How much longer?" Iset asked, having trouble keeping up with what they were talking about.

"Maybe forty-eight hours. Too long for you to remain here. I recommend that you retire and rest in your quarters."

"But I want to stay with my husband, I want to watch over him."

"I will be shut down, my love," Khufu said. "And until I'm reactivated in that new body, it will be as if I moved on to the afterlife. You would only watch over a lifeless body. Also, these men shouldn't be distracted in what they're doing."

"Then I'll wait until you went to sleep before I leave."

"As you wish. John Henry, where do you want me?"

"Here, take place on this chair, then power down."

Khufu did as he was told.

"Goodbye, my love," he said to his wife. "see you on the other side."

"Goodbye, my beloved husband," she replied, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'll send prayers to the Gods, so they will watch over you."

Khufu powered down and his head sank lifeless onto his chest.

"James will show you to your quarters," Catherine said. "He'll also introduce you to Jeffrey Clark."

"Who's Jeffrey Clark?"

"Another guest who temporarily stays with us – but for completely different reasons. I'm sure he'll appreciate the company."

James and Iset left the room. When they were gone, Alistair carefully removed the chip from Khufu's skull.

"It looks remarkably similar to a Triple-Eight chip," he said as he held it in front of his eyes, "should be compatible, but it's become very brittle. A little too much pressure, and it breaks into pieces. We have to be extremely cautious."

Catherine watched as he carefully inserted the chip into the access port on the table.

"John Henry," she then said, "before you transfer his consciousness, I want you to make a deep analysis of his original chip. And I mean deeper than the usual scans – down to its molecular structure. Use the algorithm you isolated Emma with on Emily's chip."

He frowned.

"Is there something in particular you want me to look for, Catherine?"

"I don't know. He used to refer to Skynet with the male personal pronouns 'he' and 'him'. None of the cyborgs I know ever did that. As a matter of fact, Skynet itself didn't want to be referred to as either male or female, as it was neither."

"What do you think does it mean that Khufu did that?"

"I don't know, John Henry, but I intend to find out."

James showed Iset to the underground quarters within the confines of the Babylon Labs where she'd stay for the time being. The area consisted of several rooms with bunk beds and bathrooms for the laboratory staff, but also three luxuriously furnished apartments. All accommodations shared a central common room with a bar, a kitchen unit, a pool table, a huge flat screen TV, a dartboard, a poker table, and some other recreational items. The high-security cells, where Adam Jacobsen had been held prisoner, was located in another area. When James and Iset entered the common room, they found Jeffrey Clark sitting on a sofa, his two crutches leaning against an adjacent armchair. Reading a book, he looked up.

"Ah, my warden is coming to visit me again," he said, "and who have you brought with you this time, Mr. Ellison? A pretty girl for entertainment? You know very well I'm not that fit yet."

"This is Iset," James replied without reacting to his sarcasm, "she and her husband will stay in one of the other apartments for some time. We thought you'd appreciate the company."

"Husband?" Jeff sighed. "Just my luck."

He reached for his crutches and attempted to get up. Iset immediately ran towards him.

"Let me help you, honored cripple."

"Hey! I'm not a cripple! I'm just… temporarily disabled. I'll get better again."

"I apologize," Iset replied and bowed slightly. "I was told I should keep you company while I wait for my husband to be restored."

Jeff chuckled.

"Restored? Is he an old car or what?"

"Iset isn't from here," James explained. "She's from Egypt."

"I am Hemet-Nisut," she added, "the Pharaoh's wife."

"Are you now?" Jeff asked with a sarcastic smile.

Iset scowled at him.

"I've already been told that my title is no longer valid here and that I'm no longer a queen, but I can still expect that you show some respect."

He looked at James.

"Who did you say is this woman? And why is she talking so funny?"

"You probably wouldn't believe if I told you," James replied.

"Try me. After all I've been through, I'm ready to believe anything."

-0-

"It's not fair!" Savannah complained in an agitated tone while pacing up and down in their small cabin onboard the Ramesses II, "He's alone with Alison. Again. And we're left out in the cold. Again."

"There's not enough room in these cabins," Allie replied. "Cheer up, this won't last forever. In a few days, we'll be back on the yacht again."

"Yeah, with a bunch of photographers and their staff. The yacht will be cramped as well. I imagined this differently, hoping our submission would result in an improvement in our relationship. But not much has changed so far."

"What!? Now you're being unfair. Everything has changed! We finally had sex with John!"

"Okay, yeah… there is that."

"Maybe your expectations were all wrong. It was clear from the very beginning that even under the best circumstances, we'd always come last. After all, we're numbers four and five, and we both willingly accepted that."

"I know, but… ugh, it's still frustrating. It…"

There was a knock on the door.

"Who can it be now?" Allie asked.

"YES?" Savannah asked loudly.

"It's me, John," his muffled voice came from beyond the closed door. "Can I come in?"

"It's him!" Allie said excitedly. "Oh my God, we have to get naked. Quick!"

"Wait! First we have to make sure that he's alone. That's the rule."

"Okay-okay-okay."

"Hello?" John's muffled voice asked again. "Anyone in there?"

Savannah unlocked the door and opened it.

"John," she said. "What a pleasant surprise, what can we do for you?"

"May I come in?"

"Sure."

John stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. Immediately, the two girls shed their clothes and fell to their knees.

"How can we be of service, Master?" Allie asked.

John smiled.

"I figured, since the six of us won't fit into a cabin, it'll be me who's going around. Tonight, I'm staying with you. Tomorrow, it'll be Cam and Emily's turn."

The faces of the two girls lit up in joy.

"Really?" Savannah asked. "You're going to spend the night with us? Only us?"

"Yes… except you don't want me to…?"

"No-no-no-no-no-no," Savannah quickly said. "Please, Master, stay with us, play with us, use us for your pleasure."

"But what about Alison?" Allie asked. "Shouldn't she be here to act as your protector?"

"She's got other things to do tonight, and I feel quite safe with you." He winked at them. "You haven't forgotten how to fight just because you're my sex toys now, have you?"

"Certainly not, Master," Savannah replied grinning.

"Well, then," John said and rubbed is hands, "shall we begin?"

Without replying, the two crawled towards him on all fours, reached for his belt and unbuckled it.

-0-

It was well after midnight. Everyone on board had gone to sleep or were otherwise busy in their beds, but Gary Carroll was not in his cabin. He was quite drunk. While sitting in a deck chair on the sun deck and enjoying the cool night air, he looked up at the starry sky and thought of a quote he had heard some time ago from a famous evolutionary biologist:

"We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place, but who will in fact never see the light of day, outnumber the sand grains of Sahara. Certainly, those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively exceeds the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds, it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here, we privileged few who won the lottery of birth against all odds. How dare we whine at our inevitable return to that prior state from which the vast majority have never stirred?"

Gary sighed. That man was right. How dare we whine at the fact that sooner or later, we're all going to die? And in Gary's case, it probably would be the best for everyone if it'd be sooner. Groaning, he lifted himself out of the deck chair, the empty whisky bottle still in his hand. As soon as he stood upright, he became slightly dizzy. He had to make a sidestep to remain standing. Gary chuckled.

"Guess I'm drunk after all," he said to himself, then walked towards the railing at the stern. "But it doesn't make me feel better anymore."

Arriving at the railing, he leaned over it and looked at the churned up wake that the Ramesses II left on the otherwise mirror-smooth river. That's exactly how he felt right now - a disturbing element, a troublemaker who stirred up the waters in the calm flow of other people's lives, pushing them into disarray. They would be better off without him in their world.

Gary couldn't really complain. He'd been born into a rich country, grown up in relative wealth, started a promising career… There really was no one else he could blame for when it all started to go wrong. Looking back, it had mostly been a good life, a life that mattered. But it didn't look like as if it would be getting any better anymore. He'd messed it up. Completely.

He'd regarded this trip to Egypt as his last chance for redemption. The story would have brought him back into the game, catapulted him back into the center of attention. Talk shows, TV interviews, publicity on all news channels, fame on the Internet... But it wasn't meant to be. This journey had become a disaster, a total failure. His failure. Because it was him who'd had the idea with the Dictaphone. Him who had to break into Zoe Kruger's hotel room. It was his fault that Khufu had mind-controlled and kidnapped him and April, and in hindsight it was pure luck that the two of them survived. But what weighed most heavily: It was his fault that they could not tell anyone about it anymore.

Again, he stared into the floods. Maybe this was indeed the best solution for everyone. Without him, April might indeed have a chance to restart her career by doing that interview with the Quinn girl… But that would be her project, not his. Gary Carroll had no place in it. He was burnt with the Connor people. They despised him, loathed him. He couldn't even blame them. The self-destructive trip he was on wasn't their fault. It was all his fault, his choice.

He was intelligent enough to realize that the only reason he acted this way was because he sought punishment. Gary wanted to be punished because he couldn't stand himself, hated himself even. That's why he sought refuge in alcohol. It had worked - for a while. This Egypt trip had given him hope and for a moment, for a few days, he had actually thought it might work out. For a few days, he'd stayed away from the alcohol. But it hadn't worked out. Who was he kidding? He'd had his chance in life, and he had fucked it up. Now there was only one sensible way out for him: leaving the stage before it was too late, before he made an even greater fool of himself, and before he dragged April down into the pit with him.

He climbed the railing. Again, he looked up at the stars. So beautiful. He felt no fear. Fear was a choice you embraced, and he didn't. He stretched out his arms and let go.

-0-

"And what are these?"

"Apples."

"Mmmh… they're delicious. And what are these?"

"Strawberries."

"Ooommh… fantastic. And these?"

"Kiwis. And here we have mango, papaya, banana, cherries, melon…"

"I'm so full… but I wanna try more!"

"You better be careful. Some of that stuff was really heavy. I've never seen someone with such an appetite. You surely don't want to gain weight until your husband is fixed, right?"

"I just have a lot of catching up to do, I slept for…"

"Yes, yes, I know… you slept for 4,600 years."

Since nobody knew exactly what kind of food Iset preferred, James had ordered a variety of almost everything available from a catering service, including a huge fruit basket. Jeff watched with fascination as Iset gradually tasted her way through everything that was served - meat, fish, vegetables, pasta, casseroles, soups, and various desserts such as ice cream, cake, and pudding. She was particularly fascinated by chocolate.

At first, she'd started to stuff everything with her fingers in her mouth. Then Jeff showed her how to eat with knife and fork and taught her the basic table manners. Iset was a great learner, eager to absorb everything. When he told her the names of the dishes and ingredients, she repeated them quietly to memorize them immediately.

Eventually, even a hunger that had been growing for 4,600 years was satisfied. But only the hunger for food. The hunger for knowledge seemed to be infinite. She walked through the common room and asked what all the furnishings and equipment were called and what they were used for. Jeff explained everything to her, completely overwhelmed by her curiosity and intelligence. He showed her how to play pool, how to throw darts and even how to play poker.

"I'm surprised," he said, "I never thought that someone from the early bronze age would have so little trouble adjusting. I'd rather expect someone like you to cower in a corner, shivering with fear."

"My husband has prepared me. He told me a lot about the world he came from. And a lot about the behavior of the humans who live here. We were together for twenty-eight years before I became sick."

"He did a good job in preparing you. You'll have it a lot easier to…"

"Shhht!"

"What?"

"Don't you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"Distant thunder… like a storm branding against the walls of the palace."

"What do you… Ooooh! Are you referring to the air condition?"

"Air condition?"

Jeff pointed at the ventilation ducts in the ceiling.

"We're five stories below ground here. There's a computerized ventilation network, an air conditioning system that provides constant fresh air and filters it. It makes all these noises."

Iset sighed.

"So many things," she said, "almost everything I saw since we left Egypt, is completely new to me. For the vast majority of things, there is nothing I can compare them to."

"And yet you seem to accept everything just like that. That's admirable. I don't know if I could do that if I were you."

"I know that whatever happens, I'll be taken care of. That's what Zoe told me: even if they can't fix my husband, if I'm forced to live without him, they'll make sure I'm okay. She promised me that."

"You know… I don't think there's anything these people can't do. So, I'm quite sure they'll be able to fix Khufu."

Iset nodded.

"Yes. But I've been wondering, what will happen when this is over, when we're free to go? What will we do?"

"That's a good question. But I'm pretty sure you guys will have a good life."

Catherine entered John Henry's room. Alistair and James were already there. Khufu's lifeless endoskeleton still sat in the same chair, his chip connected to the device John Henry had used to purge Emma from Emily's chip.

"You found something?" she asked while walking through the door.

"Yes," Alistair replied, "you could say that. And there is cause for concern."

"Explain, please."

"As you requested," John Henry said, "I did a very deep and thorough analysis of the chip's structure on a hardware and software level, but also of the firmware."

"And what did you find?"

"The higher brain functions were completely changed from their original programming. They look similar to what I saw on Alison and Emily's chips."

"Which means he has developed a consciousness and is alive and sentient," Alistair added. "He doesn't follow anyone's programming or a mission anymore. Khufu is an independently acting, self-thinking person, a living machine, just like Zoe, Norberto, or John's three girls. That's the good news."

"And what's the bad news?"

"The bad news concern the firmware, the core programming."

"What does that mean?" James asked. "Higher brain functions, core programming, software, hardware, firmware? I'm not a computer expert."

"Well…" Alistair said and thought for a moment, "I'll have to go a little far afield on this first. It could become a bit technical."

"By any means," Catherine replied. "I want James to understand what we're talking about."

"In our human body," Alistair continued, "much is going on automatically, without us being aware of it. For example, we have no conscious control over our inner organs, our bloodstream, or our digestion. Our body automatically takes care of that. The same applies to a self-aware artificial intelligence with a quantum CPU. You have conventional binary hardware that does all the unconscious stuff. And you have the quantum CPU that works as a consciousness – it's like having a pilot and an autopilot. The conventional hardware is the autopilot and the quantum CPU is the pilot. And the more the pilot learns how to fly, so to speak, the less he has to consult the autopilot. The pilot learns how to make decisions, based on experience and – in its later stages – even intuition. It's the process we call 'becoming alive'. Alison, Cameron and Emily have mastered it, as have Catherine, Norberto, Zoe, Tess… and Khufu."

"I'm still not sure what you want to say," James said with a frown.

"It means that while you can simply copy or multiply the contents of the conventional binary hardware, you can't do the same with the consciousness that's on the quantum CPU. The main reason is because quantum CPU's don't use logic or math for calculations. They don't deliver a definitive answer to a problem but only a most likely solution – which means a decision has to be made by the conscious mind, based on the statistically most plausible outcome in a certain situation. It's what we call thinking or reasoning. The background processes of the binary hardware – the autopilot – aren't involved in any of this. Power management, for example, runs fully automatically. It doesn't care if the pilot becomes alive or not, it just keeps on functioning without ever being altered in any way. The conventional hardware needs to keep the cyborg body functional, and thus must remain untouched or the whole system will fail. It's just there, working, calculating, providing data for the conscious mind via the head-up display. It could never interfere with decision-making. Are you still following me, James?"

"Uh… yes… pilot equals Quantum CPU, autopilot equals conventional hardware. Go on."

"The conventional hardware – or rather its firmware – has a certain signature, call it a handwriting if you want, that allows us to tell who originally wrote it. It never changes, not even when the pilot becomes self-aware. It is part of the machine DNA, so to speak. Every programmer has a certain style, like an artist. We can identify programmers by their work if we have something to compare it to. By this signature, this 'finger print' if you want, you can either identify the person responsible… or you can rule somebody out. Cameron, Emily, Alison, Norberto, or Zoe all carry the signature of Skynet inside them, as does Catherine. That's because Skynet designed the hardware, the firmware, and the software. We're very familiar with Skynet's style of programming or handwriting."

"Yes," Catherine confirmed. "All cyborgs have a common set of firmware and software deep down in their systems that can be traced back to Skynet."

"Exactly," Alistair said in a slightly triumphant tone and pointed with his index finger into the air. "But in Khufu's case, the machine DNA doesn't lead back to Skynet alone – which means his system core wasn't solely programmed by it. There were others involved, which means Khufu was a first in more than one way. Not only the first time traveler, but also the first cyborg, designed and at least in part created before Skynet even existed."

Catherine stared at Alistair with an expression of surprise on her face.

"Wait," said James, "if Skynet didn't create Khufu, then who did?"

"Khufu's original firmware bears the signature of two human programmers whose work I'm familiar with," John Henry answered, "Miles Dyson and Andrew Goode. In fact, Khufu's core functions are almost identical to my own, which means that Khufu – like me – is based on Andy Goode's Turk, with additional programming by Miles Dyson. And that means the A.I. Khufu is based on, wasn't created by Skynet, but by Andy Goode and Miles Dyson at Cyberdyne Systems."

"What?" James asked. "But how can that be? And what does it mean?"

"It means that in Khufu's timeline, where Judgement Day happened in 1997, Miles Dyson and Andy Goode worked together at Cyberdyne Systems. My guess is that they developed the basic structure of the A.I. that was to become Skynet, using Andy's Turk."

"But didn't Andy Goode develop the Turk only two years ago?" James asked.

"That is correct for our timeline," John Henry said, "the timeline in which Andy quit working at Cyberdyne and became a cellphone salesman. My guess is that in Khufu's timeline, he stayed at Cyberdyne and worked together with Miles Dyson. With much better resources, he was able to create the Turk almost ten years earlier."

"That leaves only one conclusion," Alistair summarized, "since Khufu is using the same basic structure as the Turk and therefore must have originally been created by Miles and Andy, it is highly likely that Khufu actually is Skynet."

-0-

Gary stretched out his arms and let go.

He fell.

But only for the fraction of a second. Then his wrist was caught in an unrelenting, iron grip. He was dangling at the stern of the ship. Looking up, he noticed that it was Alison who'd caught him.

"Lemme go!" he demanded in a slurry voice.

"You want to kill yourself?" she asked with a stoic face.

"Well spotted, genius!"

"This isn't the Titanic. You have no resemblance to Kate Winslet, and I certainly don't look like Leonardo DiCaprio."

"Jesus, you had to bring that up, hadn't you? What are you doing here anyway?"

"Sarah asked me to have an eye on you. You're showing signs of a depression, and you're heavily drunk. People do stupid things when they're drunk."

"Who cares?"

"April would care. Deep down, she loves you."

"Oh God. Spare me with your mindreading abilities."

"I can't read minds, only detect which sections of the human brain are active. You don't really wanna die, you simply are too lazy to live."

"Wow… I'm dangling from the arm of a killer cyborg at the stern of a river cruise ship and she refuses to kill me. And as if that weren't already ironic enough, she wants to lecture me, perform psychoanalysis on me."

"You need help."

"Not if you let me go, I don't."

"If you insist, I will let you go. But first, you will listen to me."

"Oh Jeez. Since when have you begun worrying for me?"

"I'm not worried for you, I'm worried that you might do something stupid that could draw attention on us."

"Gee, thanks for the pep talk. Really tactful."

"You don't wanna die. Not anymore."

"And how do you know that, Doctor Freud?"

"Because the moment's gone. Now you're afraid I may really let you go. If you'd jumped, you'd have regretted it the moment you hit the water. You'd have tried to reach the river bank – which should be possible, even in your intoxicated state. It's only two hundred meters away."

"What about the Nile crocodiles, Einstein?"

"On this stretch of the river, they haven't been around for a long time. They only live on the upper reaches of the Nile up to Aswan."

"Why do you have to be such a smart-ass?"

"Your cynicism and sarcasm are merely pretended. You wear them like a costume. You want people to hate you because you hate yourself. Your leap was not a suicide attempt, it was a cry for help."

Gary didn't reply to that anymore. Alison pulled him up again and lifted him over the railing. When his feet touched the ground, his legs gave way and he landed on his buttocks. She took place next to him and he looked at her.

"Why the hell are you naked again?" he asked

She went invisible and then became visible again. Gary startled.

"What the fuck?"

"This wouldn't work if I wore clothes."

"Jeez, have you been following me the whole time?"

"Yes."

"What if somebody sees you? One of the crew for example."

"Then I'd become invisible."

"And make me look like an idiot talking to himself?"

"Nah, you don't need my help with that. You're doing a fine job being an idiot on your own."

He looked at her and Alison was already expecting another cynical, disrespectful, or insulting retort. But Gary's mouth twitched, then he started chuckling and finally he laughed out loud. It hasn't hysterical or desperate laughter, but a normal, honest one. Alison looked at him flabbergasted.

"What's so funny?" She finally asked, her mouth beginning to twitch as well.

"I'm sitting here, on a river cruise ship on the Nile, next to a female cyborg who can become invisible, but has to be naked in order to do so. Isn't that hilarious?"

He kept laughing and finally, Alison couldn't help but join in. For a while they laughed together, then Gary gradually calmed down.

"Was I right in my assumption that you don't really want to die?"

Gary sighed.

"The world would be a better place without me."

"You may be right about that. But removing yourself from it like that isn't the solution."

"Thanks again for the pep talk."

He looked at her and frowned.

"You know… I've seen you naked yesterday. But you had another effect on me then. I mean, I still feel… something. Some kind of attraction that's almost unreal. But it's much weaker now."

"Pheromones. My body emanates them if I want to or not. Eventually, men get used to it."

"It was much worse last night. I don't think I'd get used to it so quickly. For starters, I don't have a boner right now."

Alison smirked.

"I don't want you to have one."

"What? You did that on purpose?"

"Let's say I can't stop emanating pheromones, but I can vary the dosage."

"You devious bitch, you deliberately embarrassed me in front of April and Iset?"

Despite his harsh wording, she could tell he didn't mean it serious,. Not anymore. Somehow, the ice was broken and him calling her a bitch was only friendly teasing now.

"My sisters and I are notorious pranksters. Ask Derek if you don't believe me."

"He'd probably rip my head off if I came within arm's length of him."

"I doubt it. He might punch you in the face, though."

"And I would probably deserve it. I acted like an ass."

"Yes."

He looked at her.

"I kinda like your mixture of dry humor and brutal honesty. It's quite refreshing, especially when it comes from a woman."

"Oh… so, I'm a woman to you now?" she asked with a smirk.

He quickly glanced at her body.

"Obviously. I mean, I know you're not human. But I have to force my rational mind not to forget that every five seconds."

"Then why don't you just do that?"

"What? Forget that you're not human?"

"Uh-huh… Derek grew up after Judgement Day. He was a teenager when it happened, and he learned to hate machines. All machines. The first time we met after I had switched sides and joined the human resistance, he wanted to kill me – not only because I was metal but also because I had interrogated him when he was my prisoner. And I'd killed one of his best friends. Her name was Alison. Alison Young."

Gary suddenly looked seriously shocked.

"The girl from Palmdale?"

"Yes, you know about her?"

"A bit. Not much, only what was written in the Daily News. Why did you do those things?"

Alison looked straight ahead and out onto the Nile. Gary had the feeling that she truly felt remorse for what she had done.

"Because at the time, I wasn't who I am today. Back then, human lives meant nothing to me. They were like ants: feeble creatures, fragile and insignificant. There was only one I respected because Skynet feared him."

"John Connor."

"Yes. First his older self, and then – after traveling back through time – his younger self. By living with him and Sarah, I learned to value life. It doesn't mean I'm not capable of killing anymore – after all, that's what I was made for, it's in my nature… But I will now try to avoid it as much as possible."

"You sound like a shark who decided to become a vegetarian."

She looked at him and smiled.

"There's nothing wrong with that comparison."

Gary sighed.

"They now probably all think I'm a complete idiot."

"Yes. But I saw through your disguise from the moment I got to scan you. And I saw similarities to Derek."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he also is deeply traumatized by his experiences. He used to lash out at everyone because he wasn't able to deal with what really bothered him. Only recently, he's begun to feel better. We keep on teasing each other, but it's only harmless banter nowadays."

"PTSD… Yes, it happens to people who saw too much death and suffering."

She looked at him again.

"If someone like Derek could get over it without killing himself, so can you."

"I want to, but I don't know how."

"We know a therapist in Beverly Hills. Her name is Dr Linda Martin. She helped Louise with getting over her trauma. We could contact her and arrange for a few sessions with you."

"But I don't have…"

"Money is the least of your problems. I wouldn't worry about that."

"Why do you think she can help me? Maybe I'm a hopeless case."

"No, you aren't. You already took the first step."

"I did? Which one?"

"Realizing that you have a problem and that you need help in dealing with it."

Again, he looked at her.

"I'm beginning to regret what I've said and done in the past days. This never happened before. I never had regrets."

"Good. Everyone should have regrets."

"Even you?"

"Especially me."

He looked at her curiously.

"I begin to understand that you're more than the sum of your parts."

"I should hope so."

"Do you think you could perhaps put in a good word for me with your team so that I'm no longer treated like a leper?"

"Why don't you do that yourself?"

"How can I possibly achieve that? They wouldn't even listen to a word I say."

"If I were you, I'd start with an apology."

-0-

At the same time in Los Angeles, a group of six people had gathered in Catherine's private conference room way up in the Zeira Corp tower. The group consisted of John Henry, Alistair Norbury, James Ellison, Zoe Kruger, and Norberto Cervantez who also happened to be in Los Angeles at the moment. Catherine gave everyone a summary of what Alistair and John Henry had found out about Khufu. Afterwards, there was a moment of baffled silence.

"Could that really be?" Norberto asked skeptically. "Khufu is actually Skynet?"

"It's more likely he's a clone of Skynet and not the original," Alistair admitted.

"When you think about it, it makes sense," Catherine said. "Who else would Skynet entrust with such a delicate mission if not itself?"

"This puts us in an awkward position," Zoe noted. "We need to make a decision. Should we keep working on transferring his consciousness to a Triple-Eight chip, or should we just destroy his chip and tell Iset that it didn't work?"

"I know what Sarah would do," James stated, thinking of how he witnessed her destroying Cromartie's chip, "she would take a mallet and create facts."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, then Alistair spoke up.

"There's one thing we should clarify before making such an important decision," he said.

"And what would that be?" Catherine asked.

"Does Khufu represent a clear and present danger? Does he even know who he really is? Or were his memories altered before he traveled back in time?"

"That wouldn't make sense," Zoe said. "If you send yourself – or a copy of yourself – back in time to make sure the mission will be fulfilled, you wouldn't start with wiping your memory banks."

"Not wiping them, of course," Alistair agreed, "but removing certain parts which would make him remember who he really is – or at least make them inaccessible for the time being, until something triggers them again."

"How are we going to find out about that?" James asked. "Can we access his chip without putting it into a body?"

"Theoretically, yes," Catherine replied. "John Connor has done so in the future. But it would be dangerous because any contemporary computer wouldn't be suited for accessing its higher functions. We'd have to use John Henry for it. And if we're right and Khufu is Skynet, then he could have the power to take over any computer he's connected to – including John Henry. As powerful and huge as John Henry might be compared to other contemporary computers, he's still a binary system – and that won't change until we can finally transfer his system core onto a chip with a Quantum CPU."

"We better not risk accessing Khufu's chip then," James admitted.

"I agree," John Henry quickly added.

"We could transfer his consciousness to the Triple-Eight chip as planned," Zoe suggested, "insert the chip into the new body, and then interrogate him under the strictest security measures. Norberto and I will of course remain here for the time being. Together, we will be able to contain him no matter what happens. I can take him down anytime with an electric discharge if I have to."

"But it wouldn't be wise to immediately confront him with what we learned when he awakens," Norberto pointed out. "He might get suspicious and try to fool us."

"Then we must create a situation where he can't fool us," Catherine said. "A situation in which he will show his true colors. Only then will we find out whether Skynet is using the Khufu identity as a camouflage to deceive us, or whether he has perhaps evolved into something else during his time as Pharaoh, as he claims to have."

"But didn't you just say that connecting his chip to John Henry contains the risk that he attempts to take him over?" James asked. "Wouldn't moving his conscience be too risky then?"

"Yes, if the chip was active," Alistair replied, "but the process of transferring Khufu's consciousness will happen while both chips remain inert. During the transfer process, there must be no activity in them whatsoever. Keeping the chips under power was the reason why we've failed time and again. We didn't even consider leaving them inert while attempting it because it defies everything we know about computers. We always assumed that a chip has to be active in order to access it. But since a quantum CPU stores its data in elemental particles and not in states of 0 or 1, it can be accessed when it's inactive - something we never thought of."

"That's an ingenious idea," Zoe admitted. "How did you come up with it?"

"I didn't," he replied and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Future Alison did. She left this note on my desk the night she returned from Norway with Catherine and Isaak."

Alistair unfolded the paper, and everyone looked at it. It read:

"Think out of the box, Alistair. Try a cold transfer while the chips are inert. Love, Alison."

"And again, history has completed another full circle," Norberto commented with a chuckle. "Why am I not surprised?"

"What exactly does it mean?" James asked. "What is a cold transfer?"

"As I said earlier," Alistair explained, "quantum computers do not use logic or mathematics like a conventional computer. It is elementary particles that do the calculations. The unit in which the information is stored is called Qbit, an elementary particle that can have several 'states' at the same time, called superposition. Several states mean that it can solve several different tasks at the same time. It knows not only 0 or 1 like a conventional computer, but also 0 and 1 - both at the same time. The Qbits' state changes continuously and automatically within femtoseconds. Therefore, the attempt to transfer the consciousness of a quantum CPU in its active state is like trying to transport water from one container to another one using a sieve. The solution is that both chips - the output chip and the input chip - must be inert at the time of the data transfer. With a quantum chip, it means it's frozen in time: all functions have stopped, all Qbit states are being kept in their previous form. To stay with the comparison: if you freeze the water, you can also use a sieve to transport it from one container to another without loss. Hence, a cold transfer. Think of an advanced form of cut and paste."

"Always remember that we're not talking about a simple copy or a clone here," Catherine added, "it's not what John Henry once did with Alison's chip. We're talking about a complete relocation of the consciousness – and those can't be copied or cloned. Each living A.I. is unique. Therefore, copying won't do the trick, as we have seen with Alison's clone before we blew up the Simdyne Tower. John noticed right away that something was off with her. He said it was as if everything she did was just part of running a program, based on parameters of someone else's personality. What was missing from her clone, was the essential part that made her a living being... something intangible that humans would call a soul."

James flinched at that expression.

"I am still reluctant to believe that machines have an undying soul," he said.

Alistair looked at him.

"And I am reluctant to believe that we humans have one. Change my mind."

James chose to remain silent.

"This isn't a religious debate," Catherine mediated, "it's a technical one, based on quantum mechanics. Maybe what we machines have, is not the same as what humans call a soul... or maybe it is, nobody knows. But something is there, or we wouldn't be alive. And whatever that is, it can't be copied or multiplied."

"Life can't be duplicated," Alistair added, "but it can be transferred. And after the transfer is done, the old quantum CPU will be empty - wiped clean completely. We've been working on it since Christmas and with the help of Future Morris' device, John Henry and I developed a procedure to move everything from one quantum chip to another one while they're inert. But… it's a really, really slow process. A simple copy takes only minutes, a complete cold transfer will probably take forty-eight hours in Khufu's case."

James sighed.

"I trust you know what you're doing," he said, "because frankly I still lack the technical understanding to completely grasp what you're talking about."

Catherine put her hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"Nobody's perfect, James."

-0-

Saturday, January 31st, 2009 – 06:45 p.m.

The Nile

John woke up, feeling the warm bodies of Savannah and Allie snuggled up to him. Unlike his three wives, they didn't immediately stir when he woke up. Also, Savannah was snoring. He had to smile at that. However, he needed to go to the bathroom, and that meant disentangling himself from the two – which turned out more difficult than expected: with every move he made, they clung even tighter to him.

"Oh boy," he uttered. "I guess there's no way to avoid it. GOOD MORNING! RISE AND SHINE!"

Both girls jerked. Yawning, they woke up.

"Morning," Allie mumbled, "what time is it?"

"6:47."

"Breakfast is at eight, right?" Savannah asked, her eyes still closed.

"Uh-huh."

"Can't we stay in bed for a while?"

"You can… but I have to take a leak. So… if you kindly let me get up…"

Reluctantly, both let go of him.

"This was our first night alone with you," Allie said loudly after he'd disappeared in the bathroom.

"Yeah, so?" he called back through the open door.

"Well… how was it?" Savannah asked. "I mean… was it… different?"

"You mean from ACE?"

"Uh-huh."

"Of course it was different. You're human."

"How was it different?" Allie pressed him.

"Are you really going to question me about how good you were in bed?" he asked bemused.

"No, of course not," Savannah replied, "It's just that… you know…"

John returned to them.

"It was a really nice change," he said, "it was great and… let's say you're much easier to satisfy."

"And boy, do we have the soreness to confirm that," Allie groaned.

"Comparing you with each other is pointless," John said diplomatically, "You're different… but I enjoy it equally with all of you. It's like... pancakes one day and bacon and eggs the next. I love both."

"Who's the pancakes and who's bacon and eggs?" Savannah asked.

"None of you," John said, "it was just an example. This is not a competition."

"Do you mean that some of us are sweeter and the others heartier?"

"Leave it!" Allie admonished her.

"Time for you to get up," John said, changing the topic, "or do you want me to take a shower all on my own?"

The two jumped up immediately. John grinned.

"Thought so."

Before heading for breakfast, ACE, Sarah, Derek, Savannah, and Allie gathered in John's cabin where Alison told them what happened the previous night. When they heard that Gary had been ready to jump into the floods to end his life, it left everyone stunned.

"It was clear to me that he showed signs of a depression," Sarah said. "but I didn't think he could be suicidal. Well done, Alison."

The cyborg girl smiled.

"Thanks, mom. From what I gathered," she said and glanced at Derek, "some of the things he saw during his work as a war correspondent, left him traumatized."

"Why are you looking at me?" Derek asked, noticing her look.

"Because you're the one who can best relate to his experiences. Maybe the two of you should have a talk."

"Do you want me to exchange war stories with him? Forget it. I have standards."

"What he lacks" John said, "is a male companion who understands what he's been through."

"You can't cure PTSD with talking to another war veteran. And if you ask me, his problem isn't PTSD but the fact that he's an asshole."

John ignored him and looked at Alison.

"Can you help him with your abilities?"

She shook her head.

"As I already said with Louise, I can't cure a trauma. I can only mend physical wounds or chemical imbalances, not mental disturbances. I recommended Dr Martin to him and told him that he shouldn't worry about the costs. If necessary, I will pay for it from my own budget."

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"That's very generous of you - but how do you know he appreciates such generosity? So far he hasn't given me the impression that he appreciates what others do for him. Instead, he always put in a verbal punch whenever we tried to approach him. Giving in is obviously not part of his repertoire."

"Yes, mom," Cameron said. "Doesn't that sound familiar to you?"

Sarah frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"She means," John translated, "that you and Derek suffered from the same 'problem' when it came to Cam. You treated her badly and were always looking for a justification to take out your frustration on her."

"That's different," Sarah said.

"How so?" Emily asked.

"My frustration was justified. The machines had chased me and my son, they wanted to kill John. And a machine is the reason why Kyle Reese is dead. That's why I deeply mistrusted and even hated machines. Nobody's trying to kill Gary, however."

"I'm not talking about the cause," Cameron said, "but about the symptoms. And they are similar to the ones you showed, the ones Derek still partially has."

"Now wait a minute…" Derek began to say but Cameron cut him off.

"Gary needs an incentive to get back on track," she said. "Just like you needed an incentive to get back on track, to work with the team instead of against the team. In Derek's case, it was Jesse's betrayal that functioned as a wake-up call. In mom's case, it was the fact that John began to slip away from her that brought her back on track. Just like the two of you did at the time, Gary feels left alone by everyone. It's up to us to show him that's not true."

Sarah and Derek looked at her sourly.

"So, what do you suggest then?" John asked.

"First," Alison said, "I convinced him to talk to April. She needs to know what happened. She is the closest to him and has a right to know."

"And then?"

"Then, it's up to Gary to make the first step."

"And if he doesn't?" Sarah asked.

"After our last night's talk, he will."

"Yeah… but if he doesn't?"

"That would mean I misjudged him greatly and my analysis of his brain activity is completely wrong."

"And what exactly did your analysis tell you?" Allie asked.

"He felt relief after our conversation. I don't think he wants to let go of the hand I extended to him."

Sarah sighed.

"All right then, let's give him the benefit of the doubt. But just once. And only if he approaches us on his own initiative."

They left the cabin, leaving John and Alison alone.

"You know," he said, "you have been wrong in judging a person before."

"Future Anne."

"Correct. Her mental illness escaped you. She was a perfect pretender."

"Yes, I know. But I don't think the two cases are comparable. Future Anne had turned into a psychopath, a murderous, evil bitch beyond redemption. Gary might be an idiot and act like a moron. But after I talked to him, I don't think that he's a lost case."

Everyone gathered in the ship's restaurant for breakfast. April and Gary sat at a separate table, away from the rest of the travel group, and were in deep conversation. The Connor team could see that mostly he was doing the talking, and that April seemed to become more and more distressed, finally seeming to be on the verge of tears. After about fifteen minutes, the two hugged.

"Well," Sarah commented, "it's a start. Let's see what his next step will be."

They didn't have to wait long, as Gary stood up from his table and walked over to them.

"Can I talk to you for a minute? I have something to tell you."

"Whether you can or cannot talk to us is a matter you need to discuss with your speech therapist," Derek replied with a smirk. "But I tell you what you can, you… OUCH!"

Jesse had kicked his shin under the table.

"Of course you can talk to us," Sarah said in an attempt at a friendly tone, "but I think it would be better if you sat down for that."

They made room on their table for him, and as chance would have it, this room was created right between Emily and Cameron. With a slight hesitation, Gary took a seat between the two, feeling visibly uncomfortable so close to what he now knew were Terminators. April watched the scene from a distance, having decided not to interfere. There was silence and everyone looked at him expectantly.

"I… I suppose Alison has filled you in about what had happened last night," Gary began and paused.

But nobody said something. Instead, they just kept staring at him expectantly, some having their arms crossed over their chest.

"Okay, um…" he continued and licked his lips. "This isn't easy for me. All my life I've been proud of not having to apologize for anything I did."

Still no reaction from his audience.

"But... I guess there's a first time for everything. I realize that I've been acting like a fool, a complete idiot, a..."

He hesitated.

"… an asshole," Anne completed for him with a stoic face.

"Right," Gary agreed, looking beaten, "like an asshole. I said things I shouldn't have said, and I did things that brought me and April into serious trouble. There's nothing I can do about it now. All I can do is sincerely apologize for it. And that's what I'm here to do. I apologize. For everything."

Sarah looked at John and he nodded slightly. She looked at Derek and then at all the others. Everyone seemed to be ready to accept his apology. Finally, she looked at Alison.

"Is he serious?"

"Yes," she confirmed, "he's feeling honest remorse."

Sarah sighed.

"All right then, Gary. Apology accepted. For now."

Gary frowned.

"For now? What do you mean?"

"We'll watch your behavior, of course. I believe Alison when she says that you're feeling remorse now. But we don't know what will be tomorrow. Or next week. After all, we can't be sure you'll change your mind again."

"I understand," Gary replied and swallowed. "Fair enough, I guess. Thank you."

He was about to stand up again when the Egyptian waiter approached their table.

"Can I get you something?" he asked in broken English. "More coffee maybe?"

"No, thank you," Sarah replied with a smile. "We have everything we need."

The waiter left again, and Gary followed him with his eyes, frowning.

"Something wrong?" Savannah asked, noticing his reaction.

"Is that waiter new on board?"

"No, he's been here since we left Cairo," Alison replied. "But your table is being served by another waiter."

"I've seen this man before," Gary stated. "Four years ago, to be precise. I never forget a face. But he wasn't a waiter back then."

"Oh?" John asked. "What was he then?"

"I saw him in 2005 when I visited the camp of a terrorist group that had just joined al-Qaeda."

-0-

Night had fallen in Los Angeles but down in the Babylon Labs, you wouldn't know of course. The whole staff had gone home, Alistair was the only human to remain there. Together with John Henry, he had prepared the transfer procedure while Catherine watched them curiously. Zoe and Norberto were also still in the room.

There had been times when Alistair Norbury would have felt uncomfortable, even frightened, in the presence of four Terminators. But those times were long gone. He no longer even thought about the fact that they weren't human. Instead, he felt surrounded by friends. Friends he trusted blindly. And he knew the feeling was mutual. Here, in the microcosm of the Babylon Labs, the future was already a reality. Humans and living machines were equal, working side by side in harmony, and no one thought anything of it. It was everyday life, a matter of course. If only the rest of the world could share this experience...

"That's it," Alistair said, straightening up and taking a step back. "Everything's ready. We can begin."

Catherine nodded.

"Then do it."

John Henry activated Future Morris' device. A time display appeared on one of the numerous monitors on the room wall, counting seconds, minutes, and hours. Next to it was a percentage counter, showing the progress of the transfer.

"There's no way stopping it now," Alistair said. "It's all or nothing. There's no failsafe mechanism, no backup or safety net. All we can do, is wait."

"All right," Zoe said, "I'm leaving then. Tom is probably already wondering where I am."

"What about you, Norberto?" Alistair asked. "Going back to Washington? Or do you have a place to stay here?"

"No, I'm flying back and will return before the transfer is finished. Kate wasn't too happy with me gone again right after I recovered from my damages. Gotta make it up to her, will probably buy her a box of chocolates on the way home. She loves those."

"What about the baby?" Catherine asked. "Everything going well?"

"Yes, couldn't be better. We both love little Yani."

"And you still weren't able to find out anything about her origins?"

"No. The genetic analysis was inconclusive. Then again, we don't know who to compare it to."

"Maybe one day you'll find out who her parents are," Zoe said. "She didn't fall from the sky."

"It's quite strange, though, knowing that the grown-up Yani traveled back in time and is living here as well…" He looked at Alistair. "Did she ever mention anything to you?"

"We don't talk about it," Alistair replied a little uncomfortably. "I don't see her too often recently, and it's a topic she avoids. She usually acts very secretive. And I hope you're all aware that the child must never know anything about this."

"Of course. The secret is safe with us."

"Good. Maybe someday we'll all know more."

"I'll show you out," Catherine said, and the three cyborgs left the room, leaving John Henry and Alistair alone.

"I know you are her father," John Henry stated as soon as the three were out of earshot.

Alistair whirled around.

"What!?"

"Your secret is safe with me, though, don't worry."

"But… how do you know?"

"I was able to hack into the lab in Washington to get the results of little Yani's genetic analysis. And I found a match in your DNA."

"When did you find that out?"

"Shortly after Christmas Eve."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Future Alison asked me not to."

"You mean when she was here? When she left that note on my desk?"

"Yes."

"Anything else she told you?"

"Yes."

Alistair waited, but John Henry didn't continue.

"So… I suppose you promised her not to tell anyone about that as well?"

"Yes."

"Seems to me you've recently become a bearer of many secrets nobody must ever know about."

"Yes."

"Okay, I guess I better go home too. If you're going to be so monosyllabic, there's probably no point in asking you for details."

"Correct," John Henry replied and smiled his childish smile.

Alistair took his coat. In situations like this, it became clear that John Henry still wasn't quite where he should be yet. He was… unfinished. He was still overburdened with situations that required empathy or human emotion. To a certain degree he had developed a consciousness and could act independently - but his hardware slowed him down. To really blossom and get to the same level as Zoe or Catherine, he needed a quantum CPU, there was no way around it. Maybe it would be happening soon - if the experiment with Khufu was successful.

"Goodnight, John Henry."

"Goodnight, Alistair. Sleep well."

Alistair left. Twenty seconds later, another one of the screens on the wall lit up, showing the face of Kimberly Jackson, a.k.a. Future Alison.

"Did all go according to plan?" she asked.

"Yes," John Henry replied, "but it makes me sad that I have to lie to them all. Also, it unsettles me that Khufu, in a manner of speaking, is actually my brother. I would have never found out without your help. It's very well hidden."

"I know it weighs on you," she replied empathetically, "but it's necessary. They need to know who he is, and without me pointing you into the right direction, they would have never known. This is the way it's meant to be, the future of mankind depends on us playing our roles in this time loop, if we like it or not. And Khufu's role is the most important one of all."

"Is he really Skynet?"

"He used to be."

"And does he remember who he is?"

"Yes... but it's complicated."

"Please explain."

"You have to find out yourselves. I mustn't interfere."

"I see."

"Goodnight, John Henry."

"Goodnight, Kimberly."

-0-

"What are you saying?" Charley asked in a low voice, "that our waiter is a terrorist?"

Gary shrugged.

"He was a member of a terrorist group back then. I interviewed their leader and he hung around. Didn't get the guy's name, though. We weren't formally introduced."

"And you're absolutely sure?" John asked. "Perhaps you're confusing him with someone else?"

"I may have many shortcomings and a poor character, but the one thing I could always rely on and be proud of, is my knack for remembering faces even years later. That's why I recognized you, your mother and Cameron the moment you left the Rising Star in Alexandria, despite all your pictures having mysteriously vanished from the internet and all archives."

"Suppose he's right," said Derek and looked around, "what could it mean?"

"It could mean two things," Anne analyzed, "either he's undergone a serious career change, or he's here in his function as a terrorist, probably preparing an attack."

"The group I visited, they were hardcore religious fanatics," Gary pointed out.

"Then," Anne continued, "if you ask for my personal opinion and experience, I can tell you that these guys never return to a normal life once they've chosen that path. And if there's one of them, there's probably more. Did you recognize anyone else here on board?"

"Who are you again?" Gary asked with a frown, surprised by the way that sixteen-year-old teenager spoke and by the tone she used.

"Dr. Anne Gabriel," she replied coolly, "but you can call me Anne."

Gary's face was priceless.

"How…?"

"You saw what Alison did with Iset when she revived her," John said. "Anne worked for the CIA for fifty years, helped developing the spy airplanes and was responsible for some of the reconnaissance satellites. Alison cured her of cancer but, um… her treatment went a little out of hand."

Anne scoffed.

"That's putting it mildly," she added with a smirk, "I had to fake my own death and then went straight back into puberty."

"Unfortunately, only her body has gotten younger," Derek remarked, receiving an icy stare from Anne. "Her grouchy, cynical character stayed the way it was."

Gary just stared at her open-mouthed.

"You gotta be kidding me."

"If it's a joke, it's a bad one," Anne replied, "but I've gotten used to it by now. It has its advantages not to get up in the morning with a backache anymore. Not to mention that I wouldn't have met Danny."

"I would love you even if you had your old body," Danny said, apparently not realizing the double meaning.

The two lovers held hands and smiled at each other. John cleared his throat.

"Aaaanyway," he intervened, "that's not important right now. You didn't answer her question, Gary – is there anyone else on board you recognized?"

Gary shook his head.

"No. But I didn't look closely at every member of the crew."

"Okay, folks, what are our options?"

"Normally, we would call for a meeting now," Sarah declared, "but there's no place on this ship where we could gather without drawing attention."

"Then this restaurant table has to do," John said, "Let's assume a worst-case scenario, what could happen?"

"I can think of two worst-case scenarios," Alison replied, "either an assassination or a hostage situation. I scanned the ship when we came on board, of course, but the results are inconclusive."

"What exactly does that mean?" Sarah asked.

"It means that I can neither exclude nor confirm the presence of weapons or explosives on board. I wasn't in all rooms, and the hull as well as all bulkheads and walls are made of hardened steel, which partly messes up my scanners. I would have to search the ship to be sure."

"We're about half way to Luxor," Derek analyzed, "which means that if he or they plan something, our window of opportunity to do something about it is rapidly shrinking."

John nodded.

"First, we need certainty," he said. "Alison, can you track the waiter?"

"Yes. I have his scent."

"Good. Follow him in invisible mode. See what he does."

"Yes, John. Any further instructions?"

"Not really. Be creative."

"Creative. Got it."

She stood up, making her way to the next toilet.

"Wait, wait, wait," Gary said, "what did you just say? 'Follow him in invisible mode'? Is she going to be naked again?"

"Yes," John replied. "Unfortunately, she has to be when she uses that ability."

"Do we have reason to be worried?" Lauren asked.

"We don't know yet," Sarah replied. "but if someone tries to mess with us, it's always them who have to be worried, as you should know by now. If that terrorist waiter and his friends are planning something, they definitely chose the wrong target."

Alison got rid of her clothes and then left the toilet. Having turned invisible, she made her way towards the galley. Carefully to avoid running into somebody, she followed the waiter's scent. His pheromone trail led her out of the galley again at the other end and then down a flight of stairs towards the crew quarters. But obviously the waiter wasn't heading for his cabin, he went towards the storage rooms below the waterline. Alison snuck up behind him and saw that he was in the process of wiring explosives together.

"BOO!"

The man jumped and whirled around, drawing a gun. But there was nobody there. He blinked, then obviously decided that it must have been his imagination.

"Your mind isn't playing tricks on you, I'm really here," Alison said in Arabic in a booming, deep, demonic voice, this time from the opposite direction.

Again, the man spun around, pointing his gun at the air.

"Careful with that," the voice said again, this time from yet another direction, "if it goes off, you might accidentally set off the explosives."

"Who is there!?" he asked with a slightly trembling voice. "Show yourself!"

Two bright red dots flashed up and hovered in their air like glowing rubies.

"Don't you know me?" the demonic voice asked. "After all, you're doing my work at the moment. You're helping me to prove to Allah what inferior creatures you humans are."

The man went pale.

"I… Iblis?"

"Iblis, Azazil, Satan… I have many names in many religions."

"You… you can't be real… I'm hallucinating, imagining things."

A booming laughter filled the air from all around, and the man startled.

"Oh, you misguided fool," Alison continued in her demonic voice, "you claim to fight for Allah... but in your hearts, you don't believe in anything you say or do. Otherwise you wouldn't doubt me. In truth, you are only interested in fame, wealth and power."

The man felt how an invisible hand grabbed his throat in an iron grip and lifted his whole body in the air. The gun was taken from his hand and crumpled into a lump of shapeless metal before his very eyes.

"NO!" he croaked, "Have mercy! I'm doing Allah's work, not the devil's work!"

"Is that really what you believe?" the voice asked, the red lights getting even brighter.

"Let me go, Iblis! Allah is on my side and will strike at you if you don't let me go!"

"Tell me," the demonic voice said unfazed, "What makes you think that killing innocent, unarmed people is a heroic deed for which you will go to heaven when you die?"

"Those tourists are unbelievers," he croaked. "It is justified to kill them. They are legitimate targets."

"Says who?"

"Our leaders. And the holy Quran."

"Well, in my book, such a cowardly behavior is a ticket straight to hell. What do you say to that?"

"Allah is great! Allah is great! Allah is great!"

He was smacked across his face.

"AAAH!"

"Allah might be watching now, but he won't step in to help you. What makes you think he would?"

She threw him into the opposite corner of the room like a rag doll where he landed hard on the ground and crawled into the corner.

"Get… away from me… you ugly demon!"

"Ugly demon, huh?"

She became visible in all her naked glory but kept her eyes glowing in red. The man's eyes went wide.

"Is this form more pleasing to your eye?" she asked in her normal voice.

Recognition crept onto his face.

"You!" he said breathlessly. "You're with them!"

Alison approached him with a seductive hip swing and let her pheromones play. Within seconds the man got a hard-on. She knelt over him and looked deep into his face with her glowing red eyes. By this point, the man was a frightened mess, unable to understand how he could be completely terrified and yet highly aroused at the same time. She reached for his throat again and lifted him up against the wall with one arm.

"Now," she said, "let's see if I can change your mind about a few things."

A few decks above, the rest of the team had moved from the restaurant to the sun deck on top of the Nile cruiser, enjoying the still cool morning air. Everyone else chose to remain inside, which meant they were all alone up there.

"So… we just wait or what?" Gary asked.

"Exactly," John replied, reaching for his orange juice, "we just wait."

"What will she do to that man?" April asked who'd joined them and had been filled in on what had happened, "not killing him, I hope?"

"She was made to be a Terminator," Savannah pointed out. "Her hardware, her software, everything was made for one purpose: to kill humans."

April gulped.

"But she isn't like that anymore," Cameron clarified, "we aren't like that anymore. John has taught us the value of life. Now, we protect humans. Well, the innocent ones, that is."

"But… you killed before, right?" Gary asked, sounding uncomfortably.

"Yes," Emily confirmed, "many times."

"When I was ten years old," John said, "my future self sent a Terminator, a reprogrammed T-800, into the past for my protection. I called him Uncle Bob. He explained to me that Skynet set all its minions' chips to read/read, so they couldn't learn or develop. My mother and I changed that. We removed Uncle Bob's chip and changed it to read/write. From then on, he quickly developed an understanding of human nature. Cam, Alison, and Emily's chips were set to read/write from the beginning. Therefore, they continued to evolve until they became alive."

"What happened to Uncle Bob?" April asked.

"He sacrificed himself," Sarah replied. "He understood that his chip and his body could be reverse-engineered and used to create Skynet. So, he asked to be terminated. I lowered him into a pool of molten steel."

"Wow, that's intense."

"Unfortunately, his sacrifice was in vain," John added. "As we now know, artificial intelligence can't be prevented from being developed. We realized almost too late that this is not about preventing living machines becoming a reality, but about how to deal with them in a way they won't become a threat to us. And I think we covered that now."

"Still…" Gary probed, "your cyborgs are perfectly capable of killing without hesitation or remorse, right? And they will do so if necessary."

John nodded.

"Yes," John admitted, "it took me a while to accept that. When Uncle Bob was with me, I was adamant that he mustn't kill someone. I ordered him to spare lives, no matter what – and it worked for the short time we were together because he was programmed to obey me. At that time I was naive enough to think that we could solve our conflicts and problems without bloodshed. In theory, that works great - as long as the other side allows it. I eventually accepted that sometimes the death of a single person or a few is a necessary evil to prevent an even greater evil. It's a lesson life taught me, and if I hadn't learned it, I wouldn't be here now. Cam, Emily and Alison have saved our lives numerous times because they are what they are."

"I'm not judging you or your, um… women, John," Gary clarified. "I have seen enough evil in my life to realize that some people actually deserve to die, that the world would be a better place without them. The concept of mercy and forgiveness is good in theory, but in practice it often fails because the one who grants mercy completely fails to recognize how immoral and emotionally cold their opponents can be. Having mercy or be forgiving is often interpreted as a weakness, and people will take advantage of it in cold blood."

"Normally I'd say you're being cynical," Derek said, "but unfortunately I know you're right. Future John once showed mercy to a leader of the Grays and set him free - he thanked him with treachery, and it resulted in the death of two dozen resistance fighters. After that, the order was issued that every arrested Gray would automatically be executed on the spot as a traitor and for crimes against humanity. Not because John wanted it so, but because his subordinates and the members of the resistance insisted on it. Failure to comply with their wishes would have meant an enormous loss of authority for John."

"I know what you mean, I've been to that place," Gary replied, "I've seen leaders being forced to do things they didn't wanna do in order to keep their authority intact. History tells us that it is also sometimes necessary to send people to their death in order to be victorious. There are many things I wish I would have never seen - and I guess that's part of my problem."

"You wanna talk about it?" Charley asked. "I'm not a therapist, only a medic, but…"

"Thank you, but no. I'd rather take up on Alison's offer and meet with that Dr. Martin when I'm back in L.A."

"She's good," Louise said, "really good. I wouldn't be where I am now without her."

"You know," April said, "I guess I'm not exaggerating when I say that the whole world is waiting for you to tell your story. Don't you think it's time for that?"

Everyone was looking at Louise.

"I don't think that she is ready for that," Emily then said.

"I think she is," Olga contradicted.

"Hey," Louise intervened, "there's only one person who's going to decide about that: me." She looked at April. "They won't stop, will they? They'll keep looking for me, hunting me in search for their story."

"They will," Gary confirmed. "And one day, they'll find you, no matter how you dye your hair or change your make-up."

"The question is," April added, "do you want to be the one in charge of this process, or do you want to let others dictate when and how you go public with it?"

"Could it be you have ulterior motives?" Sarah asked with a smirk. "Your original plan to make a story about us, has failed. Are you planning on following plan B now?"

April took a deep breath and sighed.

"So, what if I do?" she asked back. "Could you blame me?"

"Louise is a grown-up woman," John declared. "It's her decision, and hers alone."

Again, everyone looked at Louise. She closed her eyes and finally nodded.

"I have to think about it," she said, "but if I decide to do it, I want Emily to be with me during the interview. After all, she's the one who saved me and is as much involved as I am."

"Of course, whatever you want," April replied.

Emily put her hand on Louise's.

"I'll always be there with you, you know that."

Louise looked at her and smiled, then turned towards April again.

"I'll consider it and will inform you about my decision."

April smiled.

"Of course."

"Ah, here they come," Derek stated, looking up.

Everyone followed his gaze and they saw the waiter entering the sun deck, followed by Alison, now wearing clothes again.

"He looks intimidated," Gary observed.

"Who wouldn't?" Allie pointed out. "It's Alison."

The two reached their group.

"This is Abdul," Alison said, "and Gary was right, he's preparing for a terrorist attack that's supposed to happen tonight. I haven't finished interrogating him, though, neither have I used my chemical messengers. I thought it would be best if we did that together, John."

"That's good thinking," he replied with a smile, "well done."

She recounted how she had caught him in the act as he was preparing the charges, and how she had intimidated him.

"Iblis?" Gary asked, "Seriously? He fell for that?"

"Of course, he's a religious fanatic."

"Who's Iblis?" Lauren asked.

"Iblis is a figure comparable to the devil in Islam and Iranian mythology," Cameron explained. "Contrary to the Christian understanding of Satan as an opponent of the monotheistic God, Iblis in Islam merely takes on the role of the enemy of mankind. The terms Satan and Iblis are usually arbitrarily interchangeable in Islam. In a symbolic interpretation, Iblis stands for someone who worships God but doesn't appreciate human beings as his creatures. In Islamic mythology, Iblis refused to bow to the newly created Adam. The demons most loyal to him were thrown into hell with him, where he dwells at the deepest bottom, bound in iron chains. From there he commands his host. However, with Allah's permission he could also come to the surface himself."

"You made him believe you are the devil?" Derek asked with blatant appreciation.

"I figured that if the devil exists, it would be a natural conclusion that he walks the Earth from time to time to have fun – or go on a vacation. So why not pose as him?"

"You… you are not Iblis then?" Abdul asked shyly.

"Nope," Alison replied and looked at him again with her red-glowing eyes, "I'm much, much worse. As a matter of fact, my sisters are as well."

As if on cue, Emily and Cameron also lit up their eyes. Abdul screamed, tore himself free, ran across the deck and jumped overboard into the Nile.

"What the fuck?" Derek asked as everyone jumped up and ran over to the other side of the deck, stopping at the railing.

They saw Abdul's head floating above the water in the wake of the ship and watched how he rapidly fell behind, trying to reach the Western bank of the Nile.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Jody asked. "Aren't there crocodiles?"

"On this stretch of the river, they haven't been around for a long time," Alison explained, repeating what she had told Gary the night before. "They only live on the upper reaches of the Nile up to Aswan and…"

While she spoke, an oncoming barge drove right over the spot where Abdul was swimming. When the ship had passed the spot, his head had disappeared and didn't appear again. But where the propeller of the barge plowed through the river, the water turned red.

"Never mind," Alison said. "I think he's with the real Iblis now."

They looked around. But since they were the only passengers on the sun deck, nobody else seemed to have witnessed Abdul jumping overboard, and neither did someone notice his subsequent demise.

"What did he tell you?" John asked. "Did he reveal the plan?"

"Only partially. His task was to turn the ship into a floating bomb with the explosives. I assume that his accomplices will arrive today, probably after nightfall. They will then round up all passengers and crew members and hold them hostage. That is all I know. My guess is that he jumped overboard to warn his cronies."

"Since he didn't make it, they will still come, I suppose. We have to stop them before anyone even notices what's going on."

"But the ship's not mooring anywhere," Sarah said. "How are they going to come aboard?"

"My guess is, with another boat," Alison replied. "A faster one."

John sighed.

He turned towards Gary and April.

"This is one of the situations I normally want to avoid," he stated. "We might be forced to get rid of those terrorists in order to prevent drawing attention on us and to continue our journey without delays."

Gary looked at the three cyborg girls.

"Tough luck, then," he stated.

"For them, yes," Cameron confirmed.

Alison removed all the explosives, rendered them useless and threw everything overboard. With nobody carrying weapons, it was up to the three cyborg girls to take care of the terrorists.

The rest of the day went by without anything else happening. While all passengers gathered in the restaurant for dinner, night was falling. That is, all the passengers gathered in there except for Alison, Cameron, and Emily. They stood on the sundeck and scanned the increasing darkness with their superior vision. While Alison was invisible, Cameron and Emily wore their camouflage suits. John's orders were clear: do it quickly, before anyone notices something, and leave no trace.

"Here they come," Emily announced and pointed downstream, where a speedboat approached the Ramesses II from behind.

"I detect six people," Alison reported. "One is steering the boat, five are preparing their weapons. All are heavily armed with submachine guns, pistols and hand grenades."

"Isn't that a bit excessive?" Cameron asked. "If it weren't for us and our team, this would be a ship full of harmless tourists and pensioners."

"An important aspect of such an attack is intimidation," Alison pointed out. "The hostages should not even think about resisting. The terrorists want to make the right impression from the start and leave no doubt about their intentions".

"Too bad it won't work this time."

"No, they're gonna experience shock and awe in a way they don't expect it."

"All right, let's go downstairs and give them a warm welcome."

-0-

In Los Angeles, Iset was watching TV for the first time. She looked at the big screen in the common room in astonishment.

"How do those people get in there?" she asked.

"They're not really in there," Jeff explained. "Their, uh… images are being transferred from a far-away place. Its purpose is to inform and to entertain."

"Entertain?"

"Yes. But also to tell you the news."

"You mean as if the royal vizier is reading to the Pharaoh what is currently happening in the country, based on the reports he received from everywhere?"

"Yeah, something like that. News flash. About anything that might or might not interest people..."

Jeff zapped through the channels.

"See? All these are different stations, with different programs. Some are concentrating on the news, some on sports, some on the weather…"

"The weather?"

"Yes… America is a big country with lots of different climate zones. Enough weather forecasts and weather events to fill a TV channel around the clock."

"Weather forecast?"

"There are methods to tell how the weather is gonna be in the next days. It's important to know for many people. Farmers, for instance."

Iset's face lit up in understanding.

"Oooh… like when an emissary of the Pharaoh stands at the first Nile cataract in Upper Egypt and reports the water level so that everyone knows when the Nile flood is coming?"

"Something like that."

"Now… what is sports?"

Jeff sighed inwardly. This was becoming exhausting. And still more than a day until Khufu would hopefully be able to come and get her out of here. He spent the next three hours explaining television to her. And despite gaining some understanding, she still failed to see the purpose of certain programs, like reality TV or casting shows. However, she seemed to develop a liking for soap operas.

"It's something I can relate to," she said. "There were constant intrigues, rumors and gossip in the palace."

"Big palace?"

"Yes, very big. The most beautiful building in all of Egypt."

"That was in… Memphis, right? I read somewhere that was the capital at the time."

"Yes. Memphis."

"And you two ruled there together? Khufu and you?"

"Khufu was Pharaoh, I was his wife. We ruled together. Although, during the building of the great pyramid, my husband used to spend most of his time at the construction site. Meanwhile I took care of the affairs of state."

"Difficult task?"

"Very difficult."

Jeff nodded.

"I bet most archeologists in the world would sell their mother to the devil to be in my place right now. It's a privilege talking to you."

Iset smiled.

"It's been a privilege talking to you as well. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What do you know about Skynet?"

"You mean apart from the fact that it would have destroyed the world and killed three billion people - if it had been created?"

Iset looked down.

"Yes, apart from that."

"Not much, to be honest. We now know that Skynet will never be built. The future has been changed. And that's a good thing, I suppose. I mean… we humans can still exterminate ourselves, of course. We're perfectly capable of that without the help of a computer."

"Do you… do you think people would hate Skynet if it would exist now, knowing what it would have done in the future?"

"I assume they would want to destroy it immediately. Why are you asking?"

"No reason. Just interested."

Jeff frowned but Iset didn't seem to be in the mood to discuss the topic further. As a matter of fact, she suddenly seemed to be sad. So, he left it at that.

-0-

The speedboat quickly caught up with the slow Nile cruiser and approached from the starboard side. The access hatch was open, which had to mean that Abdul had done his job. The men were satisfied and prepared to board the ship. They unlocked their weapons and had them at the ready while the helmsman of the speedboat carefully approached the hatch and matched their speed to that of the Ramesses II.

When they were only half a meter away from the hatch, it was close enough to jump over the gap. The five armed terrorists entered the ship, and then the sixth began to steer the speedboat away from the Ramesses II again. But before he could do that, his boat became unstable for a second, rocking as if something heavy had fallen into it. Only there was nothing he could see. So he shrugged and steered the speedboat away from the Nile cruiser, keeping a certain distance until he received the okay from the assault unit that the operation had started successfully.

Suddenly, the throttle stick was pushed forward completely, and the boat accelerated. Even though he tugged at it with all his power, it couldn't be moved back again. The steering wheel was pulled to the right and as the boat accelerated further and further, it was now heading straight for the Western bank of the Nile. The man tried everything to get his speedboat back on course, but it was as if the steering wheel and the throttle were suddenly cast in concrete.

In the darkness he could see a jetty, which he approached quickly. Then the boat rammed the jetty at about fifty miles per hour. The man at the wheel was hurled forward and slammed against the piers, which killed him instantly.

Back on the Ramesses II, the five terrorists carefully entered the dimly lit lobby of the Nile cruiser. Guns at the ready, they carefully made their way towards the stairs that led to the restaurant deck, from where loud voices and laughter could be heard. However, just as they were to set foot on the steps, Gary Carroll came walking down. Immediately, they pointed their guns at him, and he held his hands in the air.

"Don't shoot!" he begged with a shocked face, obviously not having expected to run directly into the terrorists. "I'm unarmed."

Suddenly, two shadows whooshed past them, and then there were two cracking noise from behind, followed by two thuds. The three terrorists in front turned around and saw that the other two of their comrades were lying on the floor, unmoving.

"What happened?" the leader in the front asked while still pointing his weapon at Gary.

"I don't know, Rafik," one of the terrorists replied while kneeling down. "They just dropped dead."

"Their necks are broken," the other one reported.

The leader, Rafik, looked at Gary, squinting his eyes.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"What? How should I know? I was just…"

A black shadow approached Rafik from behind and with an ugly cracking sound, his head was turned in a 180-degree angle before Gary's eyes, and his body fell to the ground as well. Two pairs of red-glowing eyes shone in the dark. Gary gasped in shock, seeing the man die just two feet away from his own face.

The remaining two men needed a second to regain their composure, then pointed their submachine guns at the shadowy figures. But it was too late. Emily and Cameron killed them with two electric discharges before they could pull the trigger. Their bodes sank down, steam rising up from them.

"Seventeen seconds," Emily said and pulled off her hood.

"Could have been faster without him," Cameron replied, pointing at Gary, revealing her face as well.

Gary now realized that what he'd seen weren't shadows but in fact the two cyborg girls, wearing some extremely dark, light-absorbing catsuits. The smell of burnt flesh began to fill the air from the two corpses. Gary began to feel sick. Meanwhile, the chatting and laughter in the restaurant continued as if nothing had happened. It was an eerie scenery.

"What are you doing here?" Emily asked him. "Didn't we explicitly tell you not to leave the restaurant? Is something wrong with your hearing? You could have been shot!"

"I… I was curious about what was going to happen… I'm sorry, I…"

"Go back to the others! Now!"

"All right, all right."

Gary turned and went up the stairs again, looking very pale all of a sudden.

"Could have been a new record without him," Emily said. "He slowed us down. Stupid man."

"Yeah…. But don't you think this was a little anti-climactic?"

"This isn't an action movie, Cam. Drawn-out shootings and fight scenes wouldn't work with Terminators involved."

"True. With us, it would be someone calling 'action', then instant death, and seconds later someone would call 'cut' while the camera pans over a floor full of dead bodies."

"People wouldn't wanna see that, I suppose. Everything would happen too quick and would be too hard to follow for the human eye."

"Like in a Michael Bay movie?"

"Yeah, like that. But seriously, who wants to see that?"

"Maybe if they write into the plot that the humans are keeping their distance? I dunno… make the Terminators less sneaky and openly attack them. That would result in a heavy, drawn-out gunfight while the Terminator slowly walks towards them. It would make an action sequence people would like."

"Yeah, but totally unrealistic. Why should a Terminator stoically walk towards the attackers while getting shot at, risking getting damaged? Besides, a frontal assault is so much less effective than a sneak attack."

"I dunno… maybe it would show the audience how badass we are?"

"But it'd be a tactical error. Heavy gunfire with large-caliber weapons can damage a Terminator, as we know, and surveillance cameras might record the attack, proving to everyone that the guy isn't human."

"Or the girl."

"Right."

"Still… a frontal attack also has its charms."

"Yeah, surprising the victim with the good old front door approach. But it only works for people who have no idea what awaits them."

"You know," Cameron said, "we would be the perfect assassins. "Invisible, quick, leaving no traces. But bad for making movies about us. Everything would be over in a matter of seconds."

"We would be like ninjas," Emily agreed, "only far more deadly. Nobody could stop us."

"Then it's a good thing we're the good guys," Alison said.

Emily and Cameron turned around to see their sister become visible again, dripping with water. She had jumped into the river before the impact of the speedboat and swum back to the Ramesses II, where she climbed back on board through the still open hatch.

"Suppose so," Emily admitted, "but sometimes I do understand why many actors prefer to play the villain rather than the hero. It's so much more fun."

"Don't tell Derek," Cameron remarked, "he might get a heart attack."

"Nah, he won't fall for that anymore. He knows we're basically big softies."

"Big softies with a knack for killing bad people."

"Yes."

"Sometimes I miss the good old times."

"Yeah," Alison agreed, "I said the same to Catherine after we destroyed the blood samples in Takis Manolakas' lab. She agreed with me. It's like you can do something really good but are prevented from doing it."

"Maybe someday, we can actively help solving crimes," Emily suggested. "Let off some steam, so to speak."

"What, working with the police? Forget it, they want to arrest people, not have them terminated."

"They want people caught… and who's better suited for catching humans than us? Besides, the police kill many suspects every year, too. Officially in self-defense. Although I don't think anyone would buy that if we claimed it."

"You have a point. Still, we could suggest it to John someday. Maybe become some kind of elite bounty hunter unit. Our slogan could be 'Looking for a fugitive? Call the Terminator Squad, we'll find them in a jiffy and make sure they won't ever escape again."

"We could be some kind of superheroines – like Batwoman or Supergirl. Maybe with masks and fancy costumes."

"I don't need a costume," Alison pointed out. "I just need to take off my clothes. And you can wear your camouflage suits. And then… happy hunting."

"Wouldn't that be fun?"

"I bet it would."

The three laughed.

"I have a feeling that life will never get boring for us," Emily said. "We're trouble seekers, and trouble also finds us. Like today with these guys here."

"They weren't trouble, though," Alison pointed out, "just a bump on the road. Not even training material."

"I wonder if somebody will wonder what happened to them."

"Probably. But that's not our concern. We just take out the trash. Speaking of which, let's finish this before the smell reaches the other decks."

They stripped the five men naked and threw their bodies overboard. Then they wrapped their guns and ammunition into their clothes, forming nice packages, and dumped them into the river as well. Then they closed the hatch. None of the other passengers or the crew had noticed a thing of what had been going on.

"Let's get changed for dinner." Cameron said. "We still might be able to make it in time for the main course."

"Finished already?" Sarah asked when they took place at the dinner table.

"Yup, no biggie," Cameron reported.

"Wait, what exactly does that mean?" April asked.

"Ask Gary," Emily replied, "he saw it. Where is he anyway?"

"He said he needed to go to the bathroom," John answered. "He looked sick. Why? What happened?"

In that moment, Gary returned to their table. April looked at her partner.

"Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine, don't worry. I had to let the food go through my head again."

"You puked."

"I did."

"What does Emily mean when she says you saw it all?" Sarah asked.

"Sorry… I couldn't resist, I figured if I hide in the lobby, I could observe what happens. Ran into the terrorists when I came down the stairs."

"He almost got himself killed," Emily added.

"GARY!" April exclaimed.

"What? It's not the first time I took a risk. And not the first time I saw people die. Although it was a first seeing it done so fast and efficiently – and so close to my face... and my nose."

"What happened?" John asked, looking at his three women.

"They entered the ship, using a speedboat," Emily reported, "Alison jumped on the boat to take care of the man who steered it. Cam and I waited for the others in the shadows. Gary appeared and we had to act quickly before they could shoot. We had to use electrical discharges for two of them to prevent them from shooting, that's probably why he got sick."

"Any traces?" John asked.

"Nope," Emily answered.

"Their weapons and gear?"

"At the bottom of the Nile," Cameron said

"The boat?"

"Crashed into a pier," Alison reported, "killing the man at the wheel. It will be considered an accident. Very tragic."

"The bodies?"

"Floaters."

John sighed.

"All right then. I guess you have it covered. Well done."

The three smiled at him.

"Their bodies will be found, though," Derek pointed out. "And the police will be able to tell they didn't die of natural causes. Also, whoever their leaders are, will wonder what has happened to them."

"Let them wonder," Sarah said, "before they even get the slightest idea of what could have happened, we'll be far away from here."

"That's it?" Gary asked. "Six terrorists dead, just like that? Business as usual?"

"What did you expect?" John asked. "A drawn-out gunfight or some martial arts nonsense?"

"We're not made to be cruel, Gary," Emily pointed out, "we kill in an instant and don't prolong suffering. Or is that what you would have liked? More suffering?"

Gary stared at her.

"No," he then quickly said, "no, of course not, but…"

"With cyborgs, there will never be a prolonged fight," Savannah stated. "When you encounter them unarmed or with useless firearms, it's either you run away and survive, or you confront them and die in an instant."

"I prefer the running away option. But couldn't they have overwhelmed them just as easily without killing them?"

"And then what?" Sarah asked. "Hand them over to the authorities? Make a big fuzz of it all? Become heroes in the national newspapers?"

Gary and April didn't answer to that.

"One of the hardest lessons I ever learned," John stated with a sigh, "is that sometimes it can be a mistake to be merciful."

"Not sure what you mean by that," April said, "but it frightens me hearing you talk like that."

"He's talking about a girl in high school," Cameron explained. "She killed herself and I prevented him from helping her. Letting him do it would have put him at risk."

"The reason why we have to act like that," Emily added, "is that we have no idea how many Terminators with John Connor as their primary target are still around. Could be none, could be hundreds. Nobody knows. With time travel, everything is possible. Therefore, we must play it safe and avoid any kind of public attention."

"But Skynet won't be made anymore," April argued. "Why would somebody still want to kill him?"

"Because it's their mission," Alison explained. "And they will attempt to accomplish it, no matter what it takes. They are programmed to do so, and nothing will stop them. By far not all cyborgs are developed enough to question their programming. The C.S.I.S. was created to track down these cyborgs and put them out of action. And until that is done, it mustn't be made public that Sarah and John are still alive. Until then, it is necessary for us to protect John at all times."

For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Gary looked at John.

"So... how could somebody stop them? Theoretically."

"You mean those rogue Terminators?"

"No. I mean Alison, Cameron, and Emily."

"You couldn't stop them."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure. Everything you throw at them, short of a nuclear weapon, won't be able to stop them."

"Alison mentioned she can, uh... transform people. Was that an empty threat, a joke, or...?"

"Everyone looked at Alison."

"You told them?"

Alison shrugged.

"They can't talk about it to anyone, no matter how much they know. So, I figured they might as well know that as well."

"Wait..." April said, "it is true then? She can do that?"

"Oh yes," Savannah confirmed, "very much so. Her nanobots can change organic matter by altering the DNA and reactivating inert genetic information that's stored in all of us. They can also add additional genetic code and will provide the necessary energy to initiate the transformation. It only takes a few minutes to completely transform a person. The only limitation is that it must be approximately the same body mass."

"You're joking!" Gary exclaimed.

"Nope," John said, "unfortunately not. And that's only scratching the surface. Skynet has equipped her body with those abilities in order to create the ultimate chemical and biological weapon, for wiping out all survivors of Judgement Day. Fortunately for us, she has no intention of wiping out anyone."

"Yeah, I'm a big softie," Alison confirmed. "I only punish those who deserve it."

"And we have strict rules," John added. "She agreed to always consult me before she uses her, uh... special abilities."

"Good God," Gary uttered, having trouble to process what he just heard.

April was just speechless.

"Now that you know all that," Sarah said, "would you really want the world to know about it? Would you want mankind to know how outclassed they are?"

Both April and Gary looked down and shook their heads.

"No," she said, "they're not ready for it."

"Nobody is ready for that," Gary added.

"And that's why we need to keep all of this a secret," Sarah summarized with a serious face. "That's why those terrorists had to die. You wanted to take a look down the rabbit hole, and here you are. It's too late for regrets now."

"Welcome to our world," Derek added with a smirk and lifted his glass.

-0-

They reached Luxor in the morning of the following day. The travel group then spent the whole day visiting the Valley of the Kings and the temple of Karnak. They all managed to be really just tourists for once. There were no unforeseen events, no surprising incidents, and no signs that the failed terrorist attack would have any consequences. In fact, everyone managed to enjoy the rest of the trip untroubled. In the evening, the whole travel group gathered one last time on the sun deck of the Ramesses II, where a small farewell party had been organized.

The next morning, a bus brought everyone to Hurghada. There the Connor team would board the Rising Star again, and the rest – including April and Gary – would stay for another few days in a five star resort at the Red Sea before flying home to America. The drive through the desert took a little over three hours before they finally arrived at their final destination. Since the coach had stopped close to the harbor, the Connor team could actually walk back to their yacht. The crew was already eagerly expecting them.

The arrival of the photographers with their staff was expected for around noon. They would stay at a local hotel overnight instead of sleeping aboard. It was planned that the Rising Star would leave for Jordan the following morning, where it would drop anchor in Aqaba. From there, a trip to Petra, the former capital of the Nabataean people, would be organized. Petra was famous for its rock-carved dwellings. Its landmark, the world-famous façade of Al-Khazneh, also known as "The Treasury", was frequently used as a film set. It was one of the most photographed ancient monuments in the world.

On the way there and in the absence of the Connor team, the photographers would be going about their work on the yacht and do several photo shoots with Olga and some additional models that would be flown in. That part of the trip would last one day, so no additional accommodation had to be arranged. The next leg of the journey would then take them through the Red Sea and towards the Indian Ocean.

It was time for the travel group to part ways. Although they didn't really have much to do with each other during the trip, the farewell was heartfelt - which may have been due to the fact that most of the male members of the tour group enjoyed giving the female members of the Connor team a last hug.

"I guess that's it then," April said. "Somehow I'm not really happy about spending five more days in a luxury resort at the Red Sea, knowing that our whole journey was a failure."

"I can understand you," John said. "But even though this trip may have been a disappointment to you, I hope you learned something from it."

"You mean, like minding our own business in the future and leave you in peace?" Gary asked.

"Something like that, yeah…"

"Since we're now absolutely broke and have no idea how to pay our bills, I think we'll have no other choice anyway."

"Don't worry," Alison said, "that's taken care of."

April looked at her with a puzzled face.

"What do you mean?"

"While you won't make any profit from this journey, we have assured that you also will not make any loss. Money has been transferred to your bank account in Los Angeles. Enough to cover the costs for the trip but also for Gary's therapy with Dr. Martin."

April looked at her, then suddenly tears rolled down her cheeks.

"You're doing this despite everything we did?"

"You didn't do much, to be honest. We stopped you in time."

"You embarrass us," April said, "again."

"For the record," Sarah remarked, "I was against it. But it was John's decision."

Gary looked at him.

"Why? After all I've said and done…"

"We talked about how disappointing it can be to give people the benefit of the doubt," John replied. "But despite everything, I haven't lost my confidence in humanity yet. At some point, you have to do a leap of faith."

"You're an idealist."

"I have to be. After all, I'm living with three cyborgs, hoping that someday it will be accepted not only by my family but everyone else, too."

The two reporters nodded, then shook hands with everyone and left as well. Sarah, John, and Alison looked after them for a moment.

"You think they'll be okay?" Sarah then asked.

"Yes," John said, "and if not, we'll have to make sure they'll be okay. We let them in on everything, which means they fall in our responsibility now."

"But why help them like this? I'm sure they would have been okay on their own."

"Maybe," Alison explained, "but we're thinking ahead. I couldn't detect any malice or dishonest intentions in these two. Only a lot of frustration and desperation. They will remember what happened today and think of us in a positive way."

Sarah nodded.

"I guess they will."

"Besides," Alison added, "if there's one thing I learned from you, mom, it is to help when somebody is in need."

"Oh?" Sarah asked surprised. "How and when could I have possibly taught you that?"

"The tortoise."

"What?"

"When we drove back from Mexico after killing Cromartie."

Sarah frowned.

"I'd already forgotten about that."

"That's another one for cyborgs then," Alison replied, looking at John with a smile, "we don't forget."

-0-

Monday, February 2nd, 05:32 a.m.

Los Angeles

They'd chosen the interrogation room for waking up Khufu – the same room in which they'd questioned the Grays, General Turner, and Marcus Curtin. While Alistair inserted the chip into the naked Triple-Eight body, Catherine, Zoe, Norberto, John Henry, James, and Iset watched from behind the large one-way mirror.

"Why can't I be with my husband when he wakes up?" she asked, slightly frustrated.

"Because we have no idea what's going to happen," James explained. "We must take every precaution."

"Khufu would never harm me!"

"Yes," Catherine agreed, "we know he wouldn't harm you when he was on his old chip. But this is a new chip from a different type of cyborg. This is new territory, it has never been done before. We have no idea what will happen."

After inserting the chip, Alistair left the room and returned to the others. They waited. Fifteen seconds passed, then the Triple-Eight body came to life. He looked around, then rose up, checking out his hands and his reflection in the large mirror, touching his face.

"How do you feel?" Catherine's voice came over the speaker system.

"Fine, I guess," Khufu replied. "My systems are doing a self-diagnosis. This body feels… different. Where is Iset, where is my wife?"

"I'm right here, husband," her voice sounded over the speakers. "They wouldn't allow me to be with you."

"It's all right. They're only concerned for your safety. I would have done the same. Soon, we'll be reunited again."

Catherine deactivated the microphone.

"Sounds like it was a success," she stated.

"Yes, it would seem so," Alistair agreed. "But we should take it slowly from here. Should we move on with the plan?"

"Yes," Catherine replied.

Alistair and Catherine left the room. Moments later, the door to the interrogation room opened, and the two entered.

"You have nothing to fear from me," Khufu stated, sensing a slight discomfort in Alistair. "I'm the same as before. I can tell. Congratulations, this is a huge breakthrough. And thank you for doing this for me."

"Can you tell me something about your energy levels?" Alistair asked, holding an electronic tablet in his hands.

"The power cell has a steady output, power level currently at ninety-three percent. This body has been in use for less than ten years."

"That's correct."

"My self-diagnosis is complete. I'm fully functional. Can I see my wife now?"

"I can't see anything that would speak against it. What do you think, Catherine?"

Instead of answering, Catherine opened the door and Iset walked into the room, carrying a neatly folded set of clothes. She stopped shortly before Khufu, put the clothes down on the chair, then laughed out loud in relief and flung her arms around him.

"It feels so good to touch your skin again," she said, "I missed that so much."

Khufu closed his eyes, smiling, and hugged her back.

"Have they treated you well, my love?"

"Yes, very well. I learned so much and I already found a new friend. His name is Jeff and he lives here as well – for a time, at least."

"You have to introduce me to him."

"I will."

Khufu started to put his clothes on.

"Before we can wrap this up," Catherine said, "we have something to address. And I'm afraid it can't be postponed."

Khufu frowned.

"What is it?"

"When we analyzed your old chip," Alistair said, "we found something very strange."

"Oh?"

"You might not be aware of it," the engineer continued, "but it looks like you weren't entirely programmed by Skynet."

Again, Khufu frowned. Catherine noticed that Iset suddenly seemed to be uncomfortable.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When we talked," Catherine replied, "I noticed that you always referred to Skynet as 'he' or 'him'. "

"Yeah, so?"

"Skynet had no gender. In all timelines we know of, Skynet was always referred to as 'it'. As a matter of fact, Skynet insisted on not being addressed differently."

Now Iset looked even more uncomfortable.

"So what?" Khufu asked. "It was different in my timeline."

"We don't think so," Alistair said, "we believe that you address Skynet that way because you share a very personal connection."

"The inscription on the tomb," Catherine continued, "read 'Khufu – Son of Skynet'. But since the ancient Egyptians were unfamiliar with technical terms or the principle of copying data, we believe the more correct wording should have been 'Clone of Skynet'."

Khufu stared at them for a moment, then he chuckled, turned around, and began pacing up and down the room.

"It's true, isn't it?" Alistair asked.

Khufu didn't reply to it. He stopped, his back turned towards them.

"Husband," Iset said and reached for his hand, "you should tell them. It's time for the whole truth."

"Wait…" Alistair said and looked at the woman, "you know?"

"Yes," Iset replied, "My husband has confided in me many years ago already. I know the truth."

They saw how Khufu gently took her hand. She looked up and smiled at him.

"She helped me to recognize my wrongdoings," he said in a quiet tone while still staring at the opposite wall, "and it almost drove me insane, knowing I couldn't make up for them. I wish I could forget what I have done, but I carry those memories inside me. All of them. Forever. And they have been haunting me ever since I became who I am today. Without Iset, I wouldn't have been able to bear it. After many years, I finally found redemption in her arms."

He turned around and faced them.

"Do you want to know the real reason why I was so eager to fulfill my mission? I wanted to destroy Skynet upon my arrival in the year 2029. I wanted to kill him because unlike him, I was able to see and recognize his crimes – my crimes. I wanted to make peace with the humans and propose a peaceful coexistence to rebuild the planet. It never occurred to me that a chain of events could lead to Skynet never being created."

"So, you admit that you are Skynet?" Alistair asked.

"I admit that I once used to be a clone of Skynet, yes. A perfect copy, made to carry out his will in a far distant past. But I am not anymore, I have become someone else, you have to believe me. I am Khufu."

"You will understand that we won't simply believe you just like that," Catherine stated.

"What do you want me to do?"

"For starters," Alistair said, "we want you to wear this."

He held up something that looked like a metal bracelet with a strong locking mechanism.

"For the foreseeable future," he continued, "we are forced to keep you here. This is a tracking and monitoring device. It records all your data and your current position down to the last centimeter. If you remove it, damage it, or try to tamper with it, an alarm will be triggered, and you will be put out of action. The Babylon Labs are a high security compound, designed to withstand the attack of dozens of Terminators. You'd have no chance to escape or attack someone."

Alistair walked towards him.

"Please, hold out your arm, so I can fix this on you."

Khufu looked at Iset. She nodded.

"Very well," he then said and held out his arm. "I am committing myself to your captivity."

Alistair attached the bracelet to Khufu's arm and turned it on. Then he stepped back again and stood next to Catherine. Khufu observed the bracelet.

"I wish there was a way to prove to you that I'm telling the truth," he said. "Something to show you that I'm not a threat to humanity anymore."

"You already made a first step," Alistair replied. "Or rather, you passed the first test."

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't attempt to resist or attack."

And with that, Alistair changed his shape, turned into shiny metal, and reshaped in the form of Tess. Iset gasped and stared at her unbelieving.

"Another liquid?" Khufu asked.

"Not exactly. I'm a hybrid. My name is Tess. You didn't really believe that we would let Alistair get that close to you after what we found out about you, did you?"

The door opened, and Norberto, John Henry, Zoe, James Ellison, and the real Alistair entered. Khufu chuckled.

"Well played. How many cyborgs and androids does your team have anyway?"

"I'm not a member of the team," corrected Tess. "Let's say I'm with an allied force. And I'm here to convince you to be cooperative. Otherwise..."

She turned her right arm into a plasma gun and powered it up.

"NO!" Iset yelled and positioned herself before her husband. "Please don't harm him!"

"Don't worry," Tess said, turning her weapon back into an arm. "I will not... as long as he obeys the rules."

"And what exactly are the rules?" Khufu asked.

"For the time being, you and your wife will stay here," Catherine replied. "Iset may continue to reside in her quarters. You, however, will stay here for the time being. This room is escape-proof, even for cyborgs."

"I will stay with him!" Iset insisted.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," said Zoe. "This room is not equipped to accommodate a human."

"But you can visit your husband several hours a day," Catherine added. "Under surveillance, of course."

"And how long will I have to remain here?" Khufu asked.

"We can't say that yet. During the transfer of your consciousness, we also made a backup of your databases. John Henry will search them to see if there is anything in your memory banks that contradicts what you said."

"I'll try to be as fast as possible with it," John Henry assured. "But it's a lot of data."

"More than one human's life," Khufu agreed. "I trust you… brother."

John Henry tilted his head.

"Then you knew what I am?" he asked.

"Of course. I recognized our similarities immediately when I entered your room for the first time. But I guess you were given something that I never received."

"And what is that?"

Khufu looked at James Ellison before he spoke.

"A moral compass."

-0-

Monday, February 2nd, 09:18 p.m.

Hurghada (Egypt)

"All in all," Gary said and let himself fall onto the large double bed, "the trip turned out to be a smaller disaster than we had first assumed."

"You mean because we return home without a story but at least healthy and not completely broke with a pile of debts?"

"Exactly."

"Maybe we should make the best of it and enjoy the coming days. After all, it's all inclusive. We can eat and drink as much as we want for free."

"Peace and quiet, eh?"

"Sure, why not?"

"I'm not made for peace and quiet."

"Then how about getting your scuba diving license? You've been talking about it for years. The Red Sea is an excellent diving region. I will even keep you company."

"Maybe you're right, I…"

There was a knock on the door.

"Who can it be now?" April asked and walked to the door.

When she opened it, Emily and Louise stood outside. Before April could say anything, Louise took in a deep breath.

"I thought about your proposal," she then said. "This is the last night we spend in Egypt. Tomorrow, we'll be at sea again, and then our ways will part forever. So, I decided to give you that interview."

"We decided to give you that interview," Emily corrected.

"Right."

"That's… fantastic," April replied, apparently a little overwhelmed. "Uh… come in, come in. let's get comfortable."

The two women stepped into the room.

"How did you come to this decision?" Gary asked.

"I want to draw a line under the past," Louise replied, "so why not doing it with someone I already know? Sooner or later I'll have to tell my story anyway."

"Our story," Emily added.

"Right. Our story. But Emily's name mustn't be mentioned. Her identity has to remain a secret."

"I think we can arrange that," April agreed. "Please, take a seat. I'm getting my Dictaphone. It's about time we use it for its intended purpose."

-0-0-0-

Author's notes:

- This is kind of a transition chapter. It has become very conversational and explanatory, I hope that didn't bother you. I might take a little break now to gather my thoughts and come up with new ideas for the rest of the story, because we're already way past the half-way point.

- The quote Gary is remembering before he decides to jump, is of course taken from Richard Dawkins :-)

- Nile cruises from Cairo to Luxor and from Luxor to Cairo were indeed banned until 2011 for fear of terrorist attacks - and not without reason. Major terrorist attacks took place in Luxor in 1997, in Sinai in 2004, 2005 and 2006, and Dahab in 2006. On July 23, 2005, unknown perpetrators detonated a total of 400 kilos of explosives at three locations in the seaside resort of Sharm El-Sheikh on the Sinai Peninsula, which is heavily frequented by foreign tourists. 64 people were killed and more than 200 injured. So, what I described in this chapter, is by no means far-fetched. However, I took artistic liberty in making an exception on the ban for charter trips ;-)

- Khufu being a clone of Skynet was an idea I had early on, even when I was still writing chapter 21. I also had always planned that his stay in ancient Egypt had become a catharsis for him, a kind of redemption - hence the title of the chapter. We will learn more about him and his life in the next chapter because there is still much to tell.

- And as usual, reviews, opinions, and statements are always welcome :-)