CHAPTER 34: "THE HOMECOMING"


Thursday, April 2, 2009 – 10:43 am

Burbank

The ambulance drove slowly up the driveway to the Connors' estate in Burbank and stopped in front of the large metal gate. Kacy stood at her kitchen window and watched the scene. Trevor wasn't home; he had to work. Crime never stopped in Los Angeles.

Slowly, the heavy steel gate slid aside, and the ambulance entered the now completely fenced property. Once inside, the gate closed again. Kacy sighed and turned back to her housework. The transport had been announced to them beforehand, there was no reason for concern.

"Stop over there," Zoe Kruger told the driver. "We can then unload him directly in front of the stairs."

"I'm not disabled, you know," Tom Novak remarked from behind, sitting in a wheelchair. "I can walk."

"Patient transports are still the responsibility of the hospital," the driver replied. "Once you're out of the vehicle, you can do whatever you want. That's not my business anymore."

Tom replied something unintelligible under his breath that didn't sound friendly. Zoe looked at the driver with an apologizing expression.

"Normally he's not like that," she said. "I mean, yes, he's probably been cranky since he was born…"

"Hey, I can hear you!" Tom protested.

"… but the time in hospital made him almost insufferable. The nurses were glad to get rid of him."

"Yeah, so I heard," the driver replied, unable to suppress a smirk.

"Isn't there some kind of law against insulting patients?" Tom asked. "And if not, where can I file a complaint? After all, I'm paying a heck of a lot of money for all this."

"Honey, you're not paying anything. Since you were under the protection of the C.S.I.S. at the time you got shot, the agency will cover all expenses. I made sure of that."

"Under protection… yeah, right… nice protection, almost got me killed."

"See what I mean?" Zoe asked and looked at the driver. "I saved his life - but don't think I'll get any gratitude for it."

The man simply nodded. They unloaded Tom from the ambulance. The moment the wheelchair touched the ground, he attempted to stand up… and immediately stumbled and toppled over. They caught him and put him back into the chair.

"Fuck!" Tom exclaimed. "Maybe I am disabled after all."

"You need to regain your strength," Zoe said, trying to sound understanding. "That'll take a while."

"I wish Alison were here. She could…"

Zoe loudly cleared her throat. Realizing his near slip of the tongue, Tom stopped talking. She handed the driver a fifty dollar bill.

"Consider this a compensation for my boyfriend's bad mood."

"Wow, thank you ma'am. It's none of my business, but I know you both from TV. You're involved with those cyborg girls, aren't you? What are they like? I mean... how are they doing? We haven't heard from them for a while. You hear the wildest things, you know."

Zoe smiled politely.

"You're right, it's none of your business. And please remember that you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You can't mention to anyone that you drove us here, and you can't tell anyone about this place, not even family or friends. We'll find out if you do anyway."

The driver raised his hands in an appeasing gesture.

"All right, all right, I was just curious. Sorry."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Tom remarked smugly. "And I speak from personal experience. You're better off not having anything to do with those cyborgs. You'd better listen to Zoe, or you'll get into more trouble than you can handle in your lifetime. I mean, look at me."

The ambulance driver gave him a sour look, then entered his vehicle again and drove away, the steel gate opening before and closing after him.

"Sorry about that," Tom stated, "when I said he'd better not have anything to do with cyborgs, it was just to discourage him. I wasn't serious."

She bent down and kissed him.

"I know."

"Can we rely on him to keep his mouth shut, though?"

She gave him a stern look and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Can I rely on you keeping your mouth shut, Tom?"

He looked down.

"Sorry. I'm a bit… wound up lately."

"I almost didn't notice," she replied smugly. "To answer your question, I've let my people do background checks on all the hospital employees who were in contact with you. They checked out, and they all signed nondisclosure agreements."

"Good. Because I don't want any of those League of Truth zealots track me down here."

Tom turned his wheelchair around and looked at the red brick building that used to be the Connor home for more than half a year.

"It has to be one of the oldest houses in L.A.," he stated. "And of course, it's not handicapped accessible. How do I get up and down the stairs? I don't even have enough strength in my legs to stand up straight at the moment - as was just demonstrated."

"Thankfully," Zoe replied, lifting him up along with his wheelchair, "you have a girlfriend with superhuman strength."

"Whoa! Careful, I don't want to fall out."

Zoe rolled her eyes.

"Will you stop complaining already?"

She carried him up the stairs and let him down on the porch. He turned around and gazed over the balustrade.

"Wow, nice view. Why did Sarah and John give up this place again?"

"They didn't give it up, they still own it. But ever since John moved to the Loft and Sarah and the rest to Cliffside House in Malibu, nobody has been living here."

"Then why did they fortify it so massively?"

"The original plan was to make it secure against cyborg attacks. But they didn't know then that Future John had left them a huge fortune and various properties. After that, Derek and Jesse were supposed to move in. But that plan also fell flat when they bought the farm in Tehachapi. And now they've lent the house to the C.S.I.S. as a safe house. You're the first to move in here temporarily."

"'Temporarily'. I like the sound of that."

"We need to talk about your future. I think it's clear that you can't be publicly exposed anymore like you used to be. And this is a nice interim place to think about it and work things out."

"I don't remember tasking you with making my life decisions," he stated sourly.

"Yes, you did. By letting yourself get shot. If I hadn't been there, you'd be dead now – only because you refused to acknowledge that you've become a person of interest who needs protection."

"I've always been jeopardized. I'm an investigative journalist, remember?"

"I'm not having this discussion with you now. Let's go inside. All your stuff has been brought here already, we'll need a couple days to get you settled in."

Tom turned his wheelchair around and rolled into the house, where many moving boxes were stacked on top of each other in the living room.

"We?" he asked. "Does that mean you're gonna stay with me?"

"I have to be back in Washington on Monday. Until then, I'll stay with you and help you get settled. Tomorrow, two agents will arrive who'll act as your bodyguards."

"Can one of them cook?"

Again, Zoe rolled her eyes.

"There'll also be a housekeeper that the C.S.I.S. will provide, but the job hasn't yet been assigned. Interviews are still in progress. In the meantime, there's plenty of frozen food and prepared meals."

"So, I'll have round-the-clock babysitters watching over me while I subsist on TV dinners..."

"You'll hardly notice them. The house was renovated from the ground up. There's now a basement where the security guards will stay. The entire property is equipped with the latest surveillance technology – but not in your bedroom or in the bathroom."

"How considerate."

"The walls have been reinforced, the windows made bulletproof. There's even an elevator now, connecting all three floors. And if all else fails, there's a bunker-like saferoom in the basement where you can stay for up to two weeks, as well as an escape tunnel that has a hidden exit at the top of the hillside behind the house. There's also a getaway vehicle parked up there."

"So… I suppose ordering a pizza is out of the question, right?"

"Tom…"

"Just kidding. But you have to admit, the place could use redecoration. This is simply too 80s for my taste."

"Are you finished with complaining?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then I suggest we start unpacking."

-0-

Sunday, April 12, 2009 – 11:15 pm (local time)

Day 152 of our journey

I haven't written anything in my diary for quite some time. In part, that's because not much happened worth writing about – which is actually a good thing. After leaving Mackay, we'd first gone south to spend two days in Sydney. Amazingly, that worked out without any incidents, adventures, or drama. It was one of the rare occasions on our world trip where we'd been nothing but tourists.

Along the way, we had already received feedback that Jack Fratelli had kept his word and was apparently doing everything he could to make up for past misdeeds. Suffice to say that nobody is happier about that than Jesse.

Having John Henry on board has added extra zest to the trip. He walks through the world with wondering eyes like a child exploring his surroundings for the first time and is literally impressed by everything he encounters. For the first time, he is able to fully use his sensory perceptions, which wasn't possible before because he didn't have a cyborg chip. Only this enables him to feel and sense. As a result, he seems like a blind or deaf man who can see or hear for the first time in his life. It's extremely interesting to observe his learning curve, which has accelerated dramatically. His behavior has become much more "adult" in a week without completely giving up his childlike nature. It's like watching a five-year-old grow into a fifteen-year-old.. Truly fascinating.

Tomorrow at noon, we'll arrive in Honolulu, which means we'll be back in the USA after five months. I have to admit, it feels good to come home again. Even though this trip around the world was awesome, I'm now looking forward to starting my new life with Charley in Montecito. Apart from that, we've sampled all the amenities and recreational opportunities on board by now, there's definitely nothing new to discover on the Rising Star and frankly some things begin to feel a bit repetitive.

While lying in the sun and lazing around is still popular with the girls, and there's no doubt that you could never get enough of eating and drinking what you want at any time, boredom is increasingly creeping in, especially with the boys. John, Danny, Kevin, Morris, and Jason spend most of their time in Danny and Anne's suite, as well as ACE and Savannah. What they're doing there exactly, I don't know, probably playing computer games. But honestly, I'm not all that interested. Charley, Anne, and Derek have taught John Henry poker - which was a mistake, because after an initial learning phase, he's become virtually unbeatable.

Some of the many, many things we bought on the journey (including the masses of Lego bricks ACE acquired in Dubai) will already be taken off the ship in Hawaii and flown by airfreight to Los Angeles. Isaak and Catherine have already organized this and made sure there will be no complications at customs. In Isaak's words, he 'knows people'. Nevertheless, we'll have to pay import tax for some of the stuff for sure, but it's not like we couldn't afford it.

We're going to spend the next two weeks on O'ahu. Isaak has a villa there with a private beach. He and Catherine will pick us up at the harbor. It would have been nice if they both went back with us on the yacht, it would have given the whole trip some symmetry, but they both have schedules and commitments. More than two weeks are simply not possible, and Catherine can only manage in the first place because her doppelganger is in Los Angeles and has agreed to take care of little Savannah while she's away.

-0-

Monday, April 13, 2009 – 08:47 pm (local time)

The Pacific Ocean

After breakfast, the boys plus ACE and Savannah gathered in Danny and Anne's suite to pass the time until the Rising Star docked in Honolulu. Almost all the girls and women were up on deck doing their usual activities - meaning mostly doing nothing while baking naked in the sun. While John, Kevin, Morris, and Jason played Counter-Strike, Danny and Savannah did their daily check on several social media platforms – a routine that had been established since the beginning of the trip. Suddenly, Danny cursed loudly.

"Fucking idiots!"

The others looked up, wondering what had happened.

"Something wrong?" John asked and walked over to him.

Danny groaned and rubbed his eyes, then looked at John.

"It's not really anything new. Just the normal Internet crap, but it gets me more worked up every time."

"What is it this time?" Cameron asked who'd also joined them, followed by Alison and Emily.

Danny sighed.

"There's a lively exchange of opinions on Twitter about all things cyborg, and especially about our three L.A. cyborg girls. And Jesus Christ, some people are beyond stupid. It makes me wonder if evolution still works or if we as a species have already discarded it and are now beginning to regress again."

"Why, what are they writing?" Alison asked.

He took a deep breath.

"You won't believe this, but some seriously argue that Skynet must have been racist."

"What?" John asked amused. "Why?"

"Because the three L.A. Cyborg Girls are obviously white. So, if Skynet hadn't been racist, it would have brought more ethnic diversity into play when it created them."

John laughed spontaneously.

"Seriously? That's their argument?"

"Yes, seriously. Nothing new. People like that are all over the Internet because in real life, no one listens to their bullshit. But I made the mistake to let myself being provoked into a reply."

"Oh?" Emily asked. "What did you write?"

"I'd simply pointed out - admittedly with plenty of sarcasm - that after a nuclear holocaust, mankind was united, that skin color didn't matter anymore in the fight for survival, and that things like racism probably weren't on anyone's agenda anymore."

"Which is correct," Savannah confirmed. "Didn't matter how you looked like or where you came from, humanity as a species was united against the common threat, the machines."

Danny nodded.

"I wrote that, too. And I added that Skynet probably had other things on its mind than to create ethnic diversity in its Terminators."

"And?" Cameron asked.

"And wow, have I stirred up a hornet's nest with that. Because if there's one thing that makes these Karens man the barricades, it's people who disagree with them and have the audacity to hold a different opinion."

"Karens?" John inquired.

"A pejorative term for people – usually not the smartest ones – who demand something beyond the scope of what is normal or insinuate things that are offensive or insulting. For example accusing someone of being racist or chauvinistic without any factual basis – just because they disagree with them."

"Ah, okay, didn't know there is a term for them now. We used to call them 'morons'."

"The term's fairly new," Savannah admitted. "There are those would-be do-gooders who look for signs of racism or chauvinism in everything and cry out when they think they've found something. This particular Karen has accused Danny of being a racist himself because he doesn't share her views and has contradicted her."

"But he's an African American," Emily declared. "A person of color. People of his skin color have always been subjected to racist hostility. Accusing him like that is ridiculous."

"Yeah, that's the point," Danny confirmed. "You can see the irony, right?"

"Unfortunately, you cannot see someone's skin color on the internet," Savannah explained. "When Danny pointed out to that woman that he's black himself, she replied, 'You're lying to make me look bad' and then put him on her ignore list."

"That's childish," John remarked. "And cowardly. Running away from a discussion like that, it's stupid and idiotic."

Danny shrugged.

"You just can't take people like that seriously. They think they're so open and tolerant and accepting - but in reality they're the most intolerant people you can imagine, trapped in their own stuffy parochialism. Unfortunately, the Internet is full of them. That's the downside of creating a medium where anyone - even the last retard - can write what they want without anyone stopping them."

"That's not even the worst part," Kevin added, who'd paused his game with Jason and Morris, "because with behaving like that, they also do a disservice to those who are truly suffering from racism and chauvinism."

"Yes," Morris agreed, "the real racists only feel more vindicated by such absurdity, thinking that dissenters can't be taken seriously. Like religious zealots or white supremacists, such Karens use the anonymity of the Internet to spread their crude and often unrealistic views without really knowing what they're talking about."

"So..." Cameron said slowly, "their intentions are actually good, but they suffer from distorted perception and are unable to acknowledge the opinions of others or to differentiate, thereby corrupting their own cause?"

"Yes," Savannah replied. "Nicely summarized."

"It threatens to completely destroy the existing culture of discussion," Jason added. "Sometimes I wish they'd never invented the Internet, or at least social media."

"Listening to the other person's opinion and taking it seriously is increasingly going out of fashion," Kevin confirmed. "The same applies to the ability to differentiate or putting oneself in someone else's shoes."

Danny scoffed.

"Differentiating, finding the middle ground, having a factual discussion with a fruitful exchange of views instead of personal attacks... oh yes, those were the good old days before the Internet. Nowadays, many - not all, but many - act on the motto, 'Your opinion can't be right, because if it were, I'd have it'. And sadly, their number is growing."

"Human behavior is very strange sometimes," Cameron commented.

"And often kinda dumb," Emily added.

"Indeed it is," Danny agreed. "And now you can watch it live and in color 24/7 via social media. Welcome to the 21st century, where every retarded redneck can spread their shit without anyone checking their verbal vomit."

"Aside from people like that," John said, "what else is going on on the Internet? What are people saying?"

"I'm sorry to say it, but your long absence has made voices louder that are critical of cyborgs. The initial euphoria is over and now it looks like some are having a hangover."

"Yeah, that was to be expected. In the end, the fear of the unknown always gets the upper hand. I suppose we have to actively do something about it."

"And what?" Savannah asked. "Another TV interview?"

John shrugged.

"Why not? A follow-up interview to address all the questions that have arisen in the meantime doesn't sound like a too bad idea. It can definitely calm the waves. We should talk to Tom about it when we get back. I'm sure we can arrange something again – now that we have the necessary contacts."


Catherine and Isaak were already waiting at the pier. Apparently they had organized a coach that would take the whole party plus luggage to Isaak's estate on the west coast of O'ahu. The reunion was happy and heartfelt, and it took quite a while for everyone to hug. Olga hadn't met Isaak before but were very taken by his cordiality.

"Wow," she said to John while they walked towards the coach, pulling their trolley cases behind them, "he's not what I expected."

"Well, what did you expect then?" John asked.

"I don't know. He seems so warm and humble, he hugged me like an uncle and welcomed me to America. Not the way you imagine an important, dazzling Hollywood personality. I imagined him to be a little crazier, a little more aloof. Or arrogant, distant, and opportunistic, like most of our Russian oligarchs. I mean, he owns a yacht like the Rising Star, which is already crazy as hell. These billionaires have a reputation, after all."

"So much about clichés," Savannah said grinning while walking next to them. "Seriously, Isaak's a really nice guy. Very down-to earth. He's indescribably rich, but never flaunts it."

"To be fair," John added, "we don't know what Isaak was like before we met him and whether he's changed as a result of being in contact with us. Catherine claims that he has, that the disastrous experience with the Shadow Council has woken him up and left a lasting impression on him, pulling him out of the downward spiral his life had turned into."

"He was a party animal;" interjected Catherine, who had overheard the conversation, "a bon vivant who'd lived into the day in search of some meaning to give to his life after he retired from active business. His doctor had advised him to tread more softly. The involvement with the Shadow Council was, in retrospect, a kind of accident that he bitterly regrets. He has indeed changed - or I wouldn't have married him."

"All I can say," John added, "is that I'm glad that we met him and that we were able to pull him on our side. He's a good friend and has been a great help."

"Does he have family?" Olga asked.

"An ex-wife, a daughter, and two grandchildren, David and Lisa," Alison replied. "They've become good friends with little Savannah."

"Speaking of little Savannah," Charley asked, "why isn't she here?"

"She's still in Malibu," Catherine replied, "I can't just take her out of school for two weeks. My double will take care of her. But don't worry, David and Lisa will keep her company. Their mother is currently on a business trip to Europe and has placed her in my... well, my doppelganger's care."

"Do they know… you know, about…"

"About us?" John asked. "About Cyborgs? About Catherine's true nature? No. And we want to keep it that way."

"I see."

"The group of people who know about us has already gotten pretty big," Cameron added. "That's why we came up with the idea of having a barbecue weekend in the summer, inviting everyone who knows about us. Well, almost everyone, anyway. I can't imagine Andy and Mike being welcome."

"Who are Andy and Mike?" Olga asked.

"Two boys we met in Oregon," John replied. "And Cam's right, they're not invited."

"Don't ask," Emily quickly said before Olga could inquire more.

"The point is," John added, "that I think we need to have an event where everyone in the know meets one another. We need to generate cohesion, a solidarity among ourselves. Those who know about us must feel that it's a privilege to belong to this elite group, an honor even. That creates the cohesiveness we need, which will be good for everyone."

Louise nodded.

"Group dynamics, yes, you have to maintain a team spirit, or it will eventually all fall apart."

"Exactly. It doesn't do us any good to have friends spread all over the world who don't know each other and with whom we may have no contact for years. I therefore plan to organize such a gathering every year. Hopefully, it'll create the necessary feeling of belonging to a privileged group and will prevent us from being exposed on the long run. I mean, it worked for the Free Mason's and other secret societies, right?"

"Good idea," Olga agreed. "I hope it works out."

"So do we," Alison noted.


"So, what are your plans?" Isaak asked, turning around to face the team while the driver steered the bus through the Honolulu traffic. "If you want to get around, I have three cars in the garage for you to use."

"Thank you, we'll gladly make use of them," John replied. "I'd like to visit Pearl Harbor and all the memorials, especially the Arizona and the Missouri Memorials.

"I'd like to see the volcano," Jody stated. "You know, the one that's been constantly throwing out lava for decades."

"You mean the Kilauea?" Anne asked. "It's on the island of Hawaii. We're on O'ahu. Hawaii island is about two hundred miles southeast of here."

"I'm sure we can organize a flight," Isaak said. "After all, Catherine and I are here in my private jet, it can carry up to ten people."

"I'd love to brush up on my surfing skills again," Derek stated. "Haven't done that since I was a boy."

"You surfed?" Allie asked in surprise.

"Yeah, why? Is that too hard to imagine?"

"No, it's just that… all right, forget it."

"Is it possible to visit the Keck Observatory on Mauna Kea?" Savannah asked. "Maybe we can combine that with the trip to the Kilauea."

"Should be possible," Isaak replied. "I have an old friend there who might be able to assist us with the request."

"Didn't know you were interested in astronomy," Charley said.

"It's been a hobby of mine since I was a kid," Savannah replied. "Unfortunately, the sky was always gray after Judgment Day. All the dust in the atmosphere, you know... Seeing the starry sky again at night on the ocean has rekindled my interest."

"I suppose the rest of us will mostly stay at your house," Jesse said. "I'm definitely not going to go too far away. Theoretically, the baby could come any day now."

"We'll stay as well," Sarah added. "Charley and I have already decided to enjoy some time alone if that's possible. How big is your property, Isaak?"

"Quite extensive. About five acres, located on a small peninsula. The place was built on a plateau that protrudes into the ocean, surrounded by a sharp-edged rock cliff fifteen feet high that acts as a natural wall. A high fence was also erected in front of the property to prevent unauthorized access from the land side."

"Are there any neighbors?"

"No. It's quite remote, accessible only by a narrow private road. You'll definitely have your privacy there. The geographical nature of the plateau allowed to place the guest houses directly at the shoreline. They're arranged above the cliff in a semicircle around a large central garden with a pool area. All bedrooms open up towards the sea, offering staggering views out to the ocean. The guest houses are small villas for up to thirty people."

"Sounds like a holiday resort to me," Danny remarked.

"It was originally going to be a resort," Catherine explained. "But the investors pulled out when the economic crisis hit, causing the construction company to go bankrupt. Isaak bought it all for a very good price and had it finished, making a few changes in order to turn it into a private retreat. The original plan was for him to spend his retirement there. But plans change, and now he's looking for a buyer - which isn't so easy in the current market situation."

"Aren't you interested in buying it?" Isaak asked with a wink. "Current asking price is fifty-two million."

John laughed.

"Thanks, but no. We already have to take care of five properties in the Los Angeles area. But we're happy to take a break there."

Isaak smiled.

"You said it's located at a cliff," Jody said, "what about the beach?"

"There is a small, secluded bay within the peninsula that opens to the south and west, guaranteeing sun almost all day from dawn to dusk. The beach is down there."

"Is it safe from prying eyes?" asked Lauren. "You know we all prefer to be naked."

"The beach is very private and protected from view. It's forbidden for private boats to approach the peninsula. Everything else is taken care of too - food, drinks, staff, anything your heart desires. But I suggest Alison should do the same thing with the staff there that she did with the crew of the Rising Star, so they don't wonder why you're not wearing clothes during your stay. I've instructed everyone to be there when you arrive so she can get that done quickly."

"Not a problem," Alison confirmed. "Shouldn't take longer than a minute."

"Then there's nothing to stop you from treating the property as your very own private naturalist club."

"You two seem to have thought of everything," Sarah said.

"And why not?" Catherine asked. "After all you've been through on your trip, two weeks of being spoiled and at rest while staying ashore will do you a world of good."

"It'll also enable the crew of the Rising Star to really clear the decks before your final five-day hop to Long Beach," Isaak added. "The yacht will be rented out again the week after that, by then all traces of your trip should be gone."

"We can't guarantee that there won't be a Lego brick somewhere that someone could step on, though," Sarah remarked with a smirk.

Isaak chuckled.

"Oh well," he replied with a shrug, "life's tough sometimes, and there are always casualties."

-0-

Monday, April 13, 2009 – 04:26 pm (local time)

Malibu

Catherine II was sitting at a small table by the pool when Gregor, Isaak's chauffeur, brought little Savannah, David, and Lisa home. They didn't attend the same school, so it had been a longer tour to pick up all three of them. Now they ran towards the red-haired woman.

"How was school?" Catherine II asked while she was hugged by the three kids.

"Boooring," David replied. "But at least we didn't get any homework."

"What? None of you?"

"Nah, I got some," Savannah said a little annoyed. "Just a bit. But guess what? We talked about cyborgs in class today."

"Really?" Catherine asked surprised. "What did they say about them?"

"We talked about how things often can be a risk and a chance at the same time, and that cyborgs are a prime example for that."

"Aren't there more obvious topics to illustrate that? Cars, for example, they can also be a risk while at the same time providing benefits."

"Yeah, I kinda tried to point that out, saying that cyborgs were our friends. But the teacher didn't want to accept that, saying I didn't know what I was talking about."

Catherine II looked at her sternly.

"And she's right. You do not know anything about them, right?"

Savannah looked at her somewhat contrite.

"Right. Sorry."

"I'm surprised they address that topic at all."

"I guess it's because of what's been happening," Lisa explained. "The schools have decided to address the issue so that false information isn't put out into the world."

"I see."

"Anyway," David stated. "It's Monday. And Monday is slot car day."

"Since when?" Lisa asked.

"Since now. I just decided."

"Mom, can we go play with Isaak's slot car racetrack?" Savannah asked.

"Uh… yeah, sure… But don't forget your homework."

"Yay!" all three exclaimed and ran into the house.

"Do you require further services from me today?" the chauffeur asked.

"No, Gregor, I don't think so. I'm expecting a visitor. Thank you, you can take the rest of the day off."

"Thank you, Miss Weaver."

Gregor walked away. While he went out of sight, Catherine II saw a dark-skinned woman approaching.

"Hey!" she exclaimed and jumped up joyfully.

"Hey yourself," Kimberly Jackson replied.

The two women met and hugged.

"It's about time you invite me to your fancy Malibu estate," the dark-skinned beauty said, looking around "I began to wonder if you were purposely keeping me away from your family."

"No, of course not. But I explained the situation to you. Isaak and I don't have a lot of time for each other, and when we do, we like to spend it alone and with Savannah. I work in Downtown L.A., he works from here in Malibu because he can't stand the L.A. air. So we have two houses. I have the one in Bel Air so that I have a short commute, he has one here where we spend our weekends."

"But it's not the weekend anymore. It's Monday."

"Yes… and Isaak is on a two-week business trip to Hawaii – which gave me the opportunity to take a day off and invite you here. Are you complaining?"

Kimberly laughed.

"No, surely not. The ocean view is really nice. Where's your daughter? I'm dying to meet her."

"She's inside, playing with David and Lisa, Isaak's grandchildren. Won't be long before they come outside again, don't worry. Sit down. I'll show you around the house in a moment. Can I offer you something? Coffee, tea, something stronger perhaps?"

"I need to drive home again later. Just coffee, please."

"How do you want it?"

"Black, of course."

Both chuckled.

"Of course."

Catherine II poured Kimberly coffee from a jug that sat on the small table. There was also a bowl with cookies standing there. Kimberly sat down across from her friend.

"Savannah made them," Catherine II explained, pointing at the cookies. "They're quite good, you have to try one."

"I will. So… you're basically playing babysitter for the children while Isaak is in Hawaii?"

The redhead chuckled.

"Yeah, sums it up. I don't mind, though I love to spend time with them. They're great kids."

"I noticed that you have no security here. May I ask why? You two are very exposed persons. Very rich exposed persons, I might add. And since you're now alone with the kids, isn't that a big risk?"

Catherine II sighed.

"Isaak doesn't like to be surrounded by people who carry guns. He mainly relies on safety technology. We have a handful security people, but there was a crisis a couple of weeks ago and three of them are still in hospital."

"Crisis? What crisis?"

""I wasn't here when it happened. But apparently, drugs were involved."

"Drugs? Seriously?"

"Yeah, not easy to find good, reliable people these days. And it definitely isn't easy to find replacement on short notice."

"Frankly, I think that's pretty irresponsible by Isaak, given your recent history... The attempt on your life, I mean…"

Catherine II sighed.

"I know. But James Ellison promised to assign a couple of people from Zeira Corp security, they'll be here in the evening. Anyway, I'm glad you're here now, makes me feel much safer. How are things going at FES?"

Kimberly smiled. She knew the topic was uncomfortable for her friend but decided not to question this quick change of topic.

"FES isn't doing very well... if we don't find an investor in the next four months at the latest, we'll either have to file for bankruptcy or take money from those I don't want to take money from."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"I know you don't like to hear it because you think I'm too connected to the military, but..."

"I know. Don't get me wrong, but asking you is really my very last option. If things should really get tough, though, I'll consider take you up on your offer, of course."

"Hey, it's your business, your lifeblood, I'm not going to talk you into it."

Kimberly didn't reply to that anymore. After all, she knew that the woman across from her wasn't the real Catherine Weaver, only a double, a stand-in. As a matter of fact, she – as Alison – had recruited and created her for that assignment. She had turned the former contract killer Gabriella Santini into a genetic clone of the late Catherine Weaver. She was her friend, but she was never allowed to know the real reason for Kimberly not accepting her money - namely that she was waiting for Benjamin Bridger to finally come out of hiding and make her that offer. But that wouldn't happen until Kimberly was really up to her neck.

Catherine the T-1001 was in Hawaii with Isaak at the time. And the security staff of the estate were still suffering from the aftermath of the assassination attempt by the mercenaries who'd been sent to kill Catherine and her brother's family. The "drugs" in question had in fact been tranquilizers with some heavy side-effects that were normally only used in zoos to sedate animals.

But this episode had been swept under the rug, the police were never notified. Instead, Catherine the Terminator had taken it upon herself to punish the one responsible – in a rather creative way. The sudden disappearance of Anthony Sauer was a mystery, but since to all appearances he had previously signed over his entire estate to his wife, suicide was suspected. Only the discovery of his body would bring certainty, but Catherine had made sure that this wouldn't happen.

In essence, all the true facts were known to Kimberly Jackson, of course, but she also knew that she had to play along and feign ignorance in order to maintain her own cover. After all, she was Alison, and as such intimately familiar with events, people, and their fates for centuries to come - as far as it had somehow been documented or witnessed. However, there were still some blanks to fill. History is always written on a larger scale and rarely cares about the fates of ordinary people. But these gaps in knowledge were part of the appeal for her. Finding out what exactly happened and how, was exciting.

In the end, things would play out the way they were supposed to, and Alison in her role as Kimberly Jackson was both an observer and an active player. Hence, she lost herself in small talk with her friend Catherine and enjoyed having coffee and cookies with her.

-0-

Monday, April 13, 2009 – 02:35 pm (local time)

Hawaii

Isaak's estate was located on the west coast of O'ahu. The access road branched off directly from Highway 93, first led through a densely overgrown tropical grove and ended in front of a large gate with two arches, from which a wall, ten feet tall, extended to the left and right. The coach stopped just outside the gate, the driver exchanged a few words with the intercom mounted at window level, then the two archways swung open to allow entry.

Behind the gate was an avenue of palm trees about a hundred yards long, leading directly onto the part of the property jutting out into the ocean. The occupants of the coach saw lush, well-tended lawns to the left and right and the Pacific Ocean beyond on both sides. Straight ahead several one-story buildings came into view that on first glance appeared to be built in typical Hawaiian style. On closer inspection, however, it turned out that it was only the façades that looked like that. Underneath them were modern buildings that only looked as if they had been built by natives.

The coach pulled into a circular courtyard and stopped in front of a large house that contained the main entrance to the complex. In front of it, a number of people had gathered in orderly formation, obviously the assembled personnel of the facility.

"You better make yourself invisible," Isaak told Alison. "Then you get out first and do... whatever you need to do."

She looked at John. He nodded. Then she turned herself invisible and began to take off her clothes, handing them to Emily. The door of the coach opened with a hiss. The other passengers slowly stood up and made their way to the door, deliberately moving slowly, before stepping out into the pleasant tropical warmth. It was far less humid here than in Queensland or Singapore and the nearby ocean provided a refreshing breeze.

"I think I could get used to this," Jody remarked. "It's a nice climate."

"Yeah, seems awesome," Sydney agreed. "Has anyone ever been in Hawaii before?"

"I have," Anne answered. "I'd been stationed here for three years."

"Of course," Sarah commented with a smirk.

Isaak cleared his throat. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Allow me to introduce the staff to you. They'll take care of all our needs for the next two weeks. Housekeepers, cooks, gardeners, wellness and fitness experts, as well as a few security guards who'll watch over the property around the clock. I've had them all line up, so you'll be familiar with their faces, and they'll be familiar with yours. But for sure you'll get to know all of them better in the course of the next days. Now, I suggest we unload our luggage, then everyone will be shown to their accommodations."

As they all retrieved their stowed suitcases from the coach's cargo area, Alison became visible again next to John.

"All done?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Are you sure it worked?" Sarah questioned.

"Let's see. None of them gasps or acts surprised upon me suddenly appearing naked out of nowhere, so yeah… it works."

"You want your clothes back now, sis?" Emily asked and held them out to her.

"Not necessary. From now on, this is a nudist camp, and no one will be the least bit astonished about it."

"Good," Olga said and began shedding her clothes, followed by Louise and then all the others.

"I guess we can as well play along," Charley remarked with a sigh and also began to take off his clothes.

"Why now?" Sarah asked surprised. "You men made it a point during the whole trip to at least wearing shorts."

Charley shrugged.

"To be honest, I don't think anyone is upset about nudity at this point anymore or has a reason to be bashful. So what the heck?"

"Charley's right," Danny said. "It's time we joined the club."

"About friggin' time!" Anne exclaimed, seeing how everyone, including the men, were getting naked. "Jeez, what took you all so long? Worried about getting a boner and us seeing it? In case you didn't notice, we could tell that even through your boxers."

"It was probably because we weren't affected by Alison's nanobots in the way you were," Derek remarked defensively. "But Charley's right. There's no reason for us not to do the same thing as the women do anymore."

"You need to be careful, though," Savannah pointed out. "We women all have a perfect tan right now – even Sydney doesn't look like a vampire anymore…"

"Gee, thanks," Sydney remarked, and everyone laughed.

"...but you men look like typical American tourists. You can all get one hell of a sunburn right now. So I suggest you take precautions, especially on your little peckers."

"I've already taken care of it," Isaak announced before any of the man could think of a reply to that. "There's suntan lotion for everyone in the foyer. I suggest you stock up."

"Can't Alison just make us all tanned already?" Morris asked.

"Where's the fun in that?" Lauren asked with a smirk. "Besides, I guess we all agreed that Alison is no longer a wishing well for body modifications. Right, John?"

"Right," John confirmed. "As long as no one needs medical attention, Alison won't treat you with her nanobots."

"All right then," Isaak stated and rubbed his hands, now in the nude like everyone else. "Let's show you to your villas. There are twelve of them in total. That should accommodate you all. John, for you and your, uh, mates, I've had extra beds put in your villa."

"What, for all six of them?" Sarah asked.

"Six?" Isaak asked. "Why six? I thought four…"

"Oh, right," John quickly said, "you don't know it yet, we haven't had time to talk about it. Savannah and Allie are now also part of our, uh, polyamorous relationship."

Isaak looked surprised.

"They are?"

"Yes, we are," Allie confirmed, "but don't go to any trouble on our account. Savannah and I are perfectly okay with having our own villa. Right, Savannah?"

"Uh, yes… yes, right."

Everyone frowned at this statement but decided not to question it further. While the assembled staff scattered again or loaded suitcases onto luggage carts, everyone followed Isaak and Catherine through the main entrance into the foyer of what was once planned as a resort. In fact, the entrance area still looked as if it had originally been designed for arriving and departing vacationers. However, the obligatory reception desk with its counter was missing. Instead, the foyer was set up like a large salon with sofas and had a large communication pit around a central fireplace.

They crossed the foyer and went back outside through large glass doors, where they entered a central garden and courtyard with several pools, an artificial waterfall from a twenty-feet high rock formation that rose in the middle of it, a tennis court, sun loungers and many other facilities. The gardeners had done a great job here. The lawn was meticulously maintained, there were bushes, trees and hedges, and the whole area resembled a luxurious English garden, including a couple of gazebos and rotundas made from natural stone. One of them resembled a stage and was probably meant to be for a band or an orchestra.

"On the whole, I've left everything as it was originally planned," Isaak explained, "I've just reduced the number of villas, so that ten couples can stay here instead of thirty, and reserved more space for the garden."

"Impressive," Sarah agreed.

"The catering has been adjusted accordingly," Isaak continued. "You can eat together in the restaurant or have your food brought to the villas. The kitchen is staffed around the clock and will try to fulfill all your wishes, just as you've come to expect from the Rising Star. You can all decide if you prefer to spend your time alone among yourselves or with the others."

"Cool," Morris remarked. "This world trip has probably spoiled me for life already, but this is topping it."

"Each villa has its own privacy, its own small garden, and is offering beautiful ocean views. As already mentioned and as you can see now, they're arranged in a wide semicircle around the large central courtyard. The pool area is open to everyone, of course, but all villas also have their own small swimming pool as well as hot tubs. There's a central wellness area in the main building, but each villa also has a wellness section and a sauna. You can order a masseur to the villa, just as you like. The beach is centrally accessible for everyone through an underground tunnel. The entrance stairwell is over there, in what looks like a cavern entrance next to the waterfall. The staff will show you to your villas where you can unpack. If everyone's okay with it, I suggest we meet for dinner again at the main dining hall?"

"You sound like a tour guide right now, honey," Catherine remarked. "I guess we'll just leave them all to their own devices."

"What? Oh… right. Sorry. Anyway, dinner is served from 5 pm to 10 pm, but as I said, the kitchen is staffed around the clock. Any questions? None? Okay, then have fun, everyone. Enjoy yourselves."

-0-

Monday, April 13, 2009 – 05:22 pm (local time)

Malibu

The children were still inside playing while Catherine II and Kimberly Jackson chatted about their last week's events, when through the garden a young woman walked slowly toward them, Latino by her appearance and in her early twenties.

"One of your staff?" Kimberly asked with a frown.

Catherine II looked into the direction of the approaching woman.

"Not that I know of. But that doesn't have to mean anything. After all, I'm not really at home here and Isaak makes changes all the time."

The young woman looked nervous as she walked toward the poolside table where the two women were sitting. Five meters away from them, she stopped and paused for a moment, looking pale and very nervous.

"Um… can I help you with something, Miss?" Catherine II asked. "You don't look so well."

"Are… are you Catherine Weaver?" the woman asked.

"Yes. Who are you? I don't know you. Are you part of the domestic staff? Isaak doesn't always keep me up to date with..."

She stopped talking when the woman drew a gun and pointed it at Catherine. The two women at the table were both starting to stand up.

"SIT DOWN!" the woman shouted. "I don't wanna shoot, but I will if I have to!"

Catherine II and Kimberly looked at each other, then sat down again..

"Take it easy," Kimberly said, raising her hands in a placatory manner. "Put the gun down and no one will get hurt."

"I… I wanna know where… where is the killer of my sister?" the woman asked loudly, staring directly at Catherine II.

"What?" Catherine II asked flabbergasted.

"MY SISTER WAS SHOT! WHAT HAPPENED TO HER KILLER!?"

Catherine II noticed that the woman's hands were shaking wildly and that it got worse the longer she pointed the gun at her. Every wrong movement might escalate the situation now.

"Please calm down. I have no idea what you're talking about. Who are you?"

"Crestview High School, Red Valley, New Mexico. September 7, 1999! That's when my sister was shot. Her name was Aurora Antonio!"

"I have no idea who that is."

"LIAR! They told me that you know!"

"What? Who told you what?" Kimberly inquired sharply. "Catherine wasn't in New Mexico in 1999."

Catherine II looked at her friend in surprise. How could she be sure about that? The unknown young woman looked at Kimberly but kept pointing her gun at Catherine. Her trembling became even worse.

Then, before anyone could say something else, a shot was fired from the gun.

Catherine II gasped and looked down at her chest. A red stain was forming on her white blouse. The young woman stared at her with wide open eyes and her mouth agape, obviously shocked by her own action.

"Oh God, no!" she gasped "I… I didn't want that!"

Strangely enough, Catherine II didn't feel any pain. Only seconds later, the bleeding seemed to stop. Even stranger, the red stain disappeared altogether.

"It's okay," Kimberly said and got up, "I got you."

"What? What do you mean? What's going on?"

The unknown young woman, obviously in shock from her own action, suddenly turned around and attempted to flee. But it looked like she couldn't move, as if some invisible force kept her rooted in place and then turned her around again like a puppet. Kimberly strode energetically toward her.

"Not so fast," she said. "Who are you?"

Instead of answering, the woman raised her gun again. But as she aimed at Kimberly, the gun began to crumble and dissolve in her hand. Within seconds, the weapon had disintegrated into dust, blown away by a gust of wind. The woman shrieked.

"What is happening?" Catherine II demanded to know. "Kim, why am I not wounded? I felt the impact of the bullet. What did you mean that you got me? Why can't she move, and why has that gun turned to dust?"

Kimberly sighed and turned around to face her friend.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I was waiting for the right moment to tell you, but it never came. I think now is as good a time as any."

"What? What do you…?"

Kimberly Jackson turned back into Alison, only with shorter hair that was more reddish-brown than black. Of course, Catherine II immediately recognized her.

"YOU!"

"Yeah, it's been me all along. Sorry for the masquerade."

"What the f…?"

"ALISON!"

That was little Savannah. She, David, and Lisa came running from inside the house. The three kids ran towards Alison and hugged her.

"We heard a gunshot or something," Savannah then said. "Is everything all right?"

"Uh… yeah… everything's okay."

"We didn't know you were back already!" David exclaimed.

"Yeah, we thought you were in Hawaii with grandpa and all the others!" Lisa added.

"I'm not really back. Just a quick visit."

Savannah beamed.

"It's so good to see you, we missed you." Then she noticed the stranger and pointed at her. "Who's that?"

The unknown intruder still seemed to be rooted on the spot, unable to move or talk. Catherine II didn't answer Savannah's question. Instead, she kept staring at the cyborg woman, clearly very agitated.

"Just a visitor," Alison said. "Kids, go back in the house. Nothing's happened here. Go back to playing with Isaak's slot car track."

"But…" Savannah begun, then fell silent.

As if on cue, all three children turned around and trotted back into the house.

"What the hell is going on here!?" Catherine II demanded to know when they were out of earshot.

"Short version: I'm from the future, from the year 2265. I traveled back in time because I have a mission to fulfill here. Part of it is protecting you, that's why I became your friend."

"You… wait, what?"

"I know it's confusing, and I'll explain everything to you later. But first, we have to attend to the problem at hand." She turned towards the unknown woman. "Sit down."

The woman complied, obviously confused and terrified because her body didn't obey her anymore.

"What… what have you done to her?" Catherine II asked. "And to the children?"

"The children are fine. They will remember nothing of this encounter, though. And I've taken control over this woman's body to prevent her from running away. Don't worry, she's still completely herself… at least for now."

"But how…? You didn't even touch any of them."

"Let's leave it at saying for now that my skills have evolved a lot in 256 years. Physical contact is no longer required to change someone physically or influence them mentally. I was able to heal your gunshot wound before you even felt any pain. And I destroyed the firearm by manipulating its molecular structure. As I said, my abilities have evolved. I'll explain everything to you later at your leisure. After we've dealt with this rather desperate lady here."

"No way!" Catherine II protested irritably. "I have a bone to pick with you! And she's not going anywhere anyway, right?"

Alison groaned.

"Fine. Fire away."

"Let me get this straight first. You are indeed Alison - the same Alison who blackmailed and threatened me into assuming this role, yes?"

"Yes. But from my perspective, that was 256 years ago. I'm not the same person anymore."

"How good for you," Catherine II replied sarcastically, clenching her fists. "That makes me feel so much better. Tell you what, screw you!"

"There's no reason to be like that. We should discuss this like two intelligent, civilized women."

Catherine II closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she visibly relaxed.

"All right… fine. So, there's two of you here now, right? One's on the world trip with Isaak's yacht, and you are here, having taken on the role of Kimberly Jackson?"

"Yes."

"Is there a real, human Kimberly Jackson you stole the identity from?"

"No, there's only me. I created Kimberly Jackson."

"Why?"

"Have you been briefed about the time loop?"

"Yes… John Henry and Alistair filled me in during one of our morning conferences. It'll last for 324 years, right? During that time, no new timelines can be created, and no major changes can be made to change the future."

"Correct… although it'll last only 323 years by now. Anyway, in the future, there are blank spaces regarding the past... white spots in the historical landscape if you like. Riddles, mysteries, unanswered questions, unknown connections. Unfortunately, time travel is prohibited, the risk is too high that someone accidentally causes damage to the time loop. Hence, the blank spots could never be filled by our historians."

"But… you are here now."

"Yes. I'm not a historian."

"No kidding. Did you break the rules then?"

"Let's just say that I'm in a high position of authority and can get away with a lot of things, including time travel – because I'm not aging, and no one will ever notice me being away when I return within the same minute I disappeared from. Also, since I'm not human, I'm less prone to make any mistakes that could harm the time loop."

Catherine II scoffed.

"So, bending the rules, not breaking them. Why am I not surprised?"

Alison shrugged.

"It's my calling to be here. I analyzed history, based on my personal knowledge and experiences, and realized that some things can only have happened with someone from the future interfering. Someone with powers like mine. In the future, I'm still unique, still one of a kind. So, I figured it must have been me."

"What things that could only happened with the interference of a being like you are we talking about…?"

"Founding Future Energy Solution and creating Kimberly Jackson for one… saving your life twice, and others I cannot tell you about."

"Yeah, no surprise there. Wait, what? Twice? I only know of one attempt on my life."

"As I said, I'll let you know all the details later. The important thing is that you know there are things I have to do. Some have already been set in motion and will come to fruition within the next decade. Others have not yet come to pass."

"Within the next decade? Are you planning on staying for that long?"

"It's a long-term commitment."

"So… our friendship is fake, right? Just an illusion, you got close to me because it was part of your mission to fill the blank spots in your history books?"

"No. We know for a fact that Kimberly Jackson existed and became close friends with Catherine Weaver… her double, mind you, not the real her. I'm already close friends with the real Catherine Weaver and wouldn't have to…"

"Yes, yes, yes, I get it. So, are you telling me that you haven't been manipulating me into becoming your friend?"

"Indeed, I haven't."

"But how could I believe you? You can mind-control people, after all, even change them physically. I was there when you turned Sandra Cianni into a pack of rats and let them eat their former lover, remember? You threatened and transformed me, you've made me feel fear, something I never knew before you showed up."

"You were a ruthless, brutal contract killer without a conscience. You didn't have any friends or other human relationships. Don't tell me you'd rather go back to that old life of yours."

Catherine II paused... and looked down at the ground.

"No. I admit I've come to like this life more."

"And if you're wondering if our friendship is real or not… Think about it, if it wasn't real, you wouldn't be asking these questions. We wouldn't be having this conversation. You'd simply accept everything I say without ever doubting it."

"But you lied to me! You pretended to be someone you are not."

"True… but so did you."

"But you knew about it all along while keeping me in the dark, playing me like a puppet!"

"It was necessary. We'd never have become friends if you'd known who I really am, would we?"

Catherine II looked at Alison for a moment, then seemed to come to the conclusion that she was right, and nodded.

"You have a point there. I used to hate you in the beginning. For pulling me from my life, for forcing me to become Catherine Weaver's doppelganger."

"And do you still hate me for that now?"

She slowly shook her head.

"No. I came to understand what you did and why you did it. But you could have told me weeks ago who you really are – it was unfair to leave me in the dark for so long."

Alison sighed.

"I don't mean to sound precocious or like a Jedi master... but there's a right time for everything. And obviously this was the right time for showing you who I am, triggered by the appearance of this young lady who forced me to show my abilities."

Catherine II just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever… So, what happens now?"

"Now… I suggest we concentrate on finding out who our visitor is and why she pointed a gun at you… or rather, at the woman she believed to be Catherine Weaver."

"Okay, fair enough. Do your thing then."

Alison smiled, then looked back at the young Latino woman who'd sat across from them motionless and quiet the whole time.

"What's your name?"

"Vanessa Antonio," the woman replied only milliseconds after the question was asked, obviously surprised about it herself.

"Don't be alarmed, Vanessa. At the moment, you're not controlling your will or your body. Enjoy the ride as long as l'm at the helm. So, you're from Red Valley in New Mexico?"

"I grew up there. But I've spent the last nine years looking for the killer of my twin sister."

"So, I take it you're referring to the school shooting at Crestview High School where a man with a robot leg shot Cameron Phillips and went after a boy named John Reese?"

"My sister Aurora was shot as well. She was hit by a ricochet. Cameron Phillips stood up and ran out of the room, my sister didn't. She was dead."

"Hmmm, I never knew there was another victim of Cromartie."

"Cromartie! That was the killer's name! You know him!"

"Oh, I knew him, yes. And I know very well who was responsible. But how do you came to believe that Catherine here had anything to do with it?"

"Because she hired James Ellison, the FBI agent who questioned us afterwards. He's her chief of security now. And because they told me so. They showed me proof that Catherine was involved."

"Who is they?"

"The members of the League of Truth."

"Ah, I see."

"Who?" Catherine II asked. "What league?"

Alison looked at her.

"League of Truth. They'll become known as a militant group of cyborg opponents, or rather opponents of any kind of artificial intelligence. Jennifer Parker was one of the founding members before she was arrested for plotting an attack on Tom Novak. Her daughter, Melissa Parker, then nearly killed him in revenge the other day."

"Yes, I saw it on the news. He was in a café, right?"

"Yes. And I made sure that both women do no longer represent a threat to anyone or can share their knowledge. At this point, the League of Truth is still a bunch of amateurs – weekend militants, if you want. But in a few years, they'll mutate into a group of terrorists who plan attacks on people they consider allies or supporters of the integration of cyborgs and living machines into human society. However, their attempts will have no to very little success, thanks to the Connor Team and the C.S.I.S."

"And where did these League members get the idea that I had anything to do with the death of this woman's sister?"

"Not you, of course, Gabriella, but the T-1001 that poses as the real Catherine Weaver these days."

"Right. Thanks for reminding me that you were just leading me on. Did you at least have fun doing it? Did you have a good time and laugh your ass off?"

"We played each other. And it was a very pleasant game. Not because I felt good about it but because I really came to like you. But let's talk about that later, okay? I'll answer all your questions then."

Catherine II made a sullen face and kept her arms folded in front of her chest but didn't respond to it anymore. Alison turned her attention back to Vanessa Antonio.

"Who supplies the League of Truth with such fake information? Wait, on second thought, it's best you start from the beginning. What happened after the school shooting at Crestview High School?"

Vanessa Antonio looked at her, then began to talk.

"We were all questioned. The sheriff was there and James Ellison from the FBI. We all told them what we'd seen - a shooter with some kind of robot leg. But the next day, all of a sudden, it was like nobody was interested anymore. Pressure was put on our parents and the teachers, even the sheriff and his deputies were told to keep quiet and forced to sign nondisclosure agreements. My classmates suddenly didn't dare talking about the subject either. But my parents wouldn't put up with it, they wanted answers to the question of who my sister's killer was and what had happened to him. As a result, they were subjected to pressure and threats, but they persisted. Then, a month after the shooting, my parents were killed in a car accident. Another car had run them off the road. They crashed head-on into a bridge pillar. I was fifteen years old and within a month I had lost my entire family."

"I'm sorry," Alison said, and it sounded like she really sympathized with the woman. "What happened to you after that?"

"I was placed in a foster home. As soon as I was of legal age, I began to make inquiries myself. But there were hardly any leads left. I began a nomadic life, never staying in one place for a long time, scraping by with odd jobs, even changing my name every couple of months. Finally, one lead took me to Los Angeles. I tried to talk to James Ellison, the FBI agent who'd interrogated us at the time. But it was all blocked, and it looked like he had fallen from grace."

Alison looked at Catherine II.

"We know that the Shadow Council had infiltrated the FBI bureau in Los Angeles. They shielded and neutralized James because they probably couldn't get rid of him as easily as other witnesses. Keep talking, Vanessa."

"During my research, I repeatedly came across three names: Sarah Connor, John Connor, and Cameron Phillips. I learned that John was the targeted victim that day, and that Cameron obviously put herself in the line of fire to protect him. But she survived while my sister was hit by a ricocheting bullet. According to official documents, Cameron Phillips, Sarah Connor, and John Connor all died in an explosion in 1999. This incident was also completely swept under the rug. Whenever I approached anyone about it, I was met with fear and a wall of silence."

"Yes," Alison said, "the Shadow Council was very thorough in eliminating traces, witnesses, and documents that were somehow related to Terminators, time travel, or Skynet. It's surprising that you found out so much without disappearing yourself. How did you do that?"

"I learned to stay hidden and leave no trace. A few times they almost caught me, but I escaped at the last moment each time."

"Impressive. Go on."

"Finally, last year, we all learned the truth thanks to the television interview of the three Los Angeles Cyborg girls. We learned what the Shadow Council was all about and how they'd eliminated all traces related to Terminator sightings for decades. And I learned that James Ellison, the former FBI agent who'd been on the hunt for Sarah Connor, was now working as head of security for Zeira Corp. I tried to get an interview with him but was unsuccessful. Two months ago, a young woman named Mary approached me, saying she was part of a group that wanted to find out and reveal the truth about cyborgs, artificial intelligence, time-traveling agents that threaten our society. She said they had an anonymous source who was providing them with quality information."

"What kind of quality information?" Alison asked.

"That Sarah Connor and John Connor are alive, that Cameron Phillips is actually a cyborg, that she's the Pasadena Mystery girl and one of the three L.A. cyborg girls. Also, that a group had been formed, a special force, consisting of both humans and living machines that worked together with the C.S.I.S. and the new President. Their goal is to create a society where machines are ruling over humans without anyone ever noticing. When I learned all that, I joined the group that now calls itself the League of Truth in the hope to finally find the murderers of my sister and my parents."

"I have a hunch who that anonymous source with the high quality information could be," Alison remarked. "Go on, what else did the source tell them?"

"That the headquarters of this special force was the Zeira Corp Tower in downtown L.A., that the entire Internet was being monitored and controlled from there, that they have access to all the computers around the world, to all security cameras and surveillance systems, to all phone networks. That's why the League doesn't use electronic media or cell phones. They don't even know each other's identities, only call each other by their first names. Currently, they're planning an attempt on Catherine Weaver's life because they think she's at the top of it all, the spider in the web."

"You don't strike me as an assassin, Vanessa."

"I'm not. I wasn't the one to kill Catherine Weaver. Coming here today was my own decision because I wanted answers that I wouldn't be getting anymore after they'd killed her. I got myself a gun and drove here, planning to scout the place. Then I saw how easy it was to get in and took the chance. I really hadn't planned on actually shooting her, you have to believe me. The shot went off by accident."

Alison looked at Catherine II.

"She was lucky you were here today. If it had been the real Catherine, poor Vanessa would probably have ended up as a kebab skewer."

"Yeah, whoever their anonymous source is, it obviously didn't tell them that Catherine is a T-1001. It looks like that their source didn't mean for them to go after her. I guess they decided that on their own. Am I right, Vanessa?"

"Yes. The attempt on Catherine Weaver's life is something the League decided to do on their own, without informing their source of information. As a matter of fact, their source has strictly advised against taking any action against Catherine Weaver. But they're about to ignore the warning, wanting to show that they can get things done without outside help."

Alison nodded.

"Of course the source doesn't want any action to be taken against Catherine. Because it knows that any attempt would fail, and after a failed assassination attempt by the League of Truth, the real Catherine Weaver and her allies would have been able to figure out very quickly who was supplying this group of amateur radicals with quality information. There aren't too many opponents left with that kind of insider knowledge."

"You seem to know who that anonymous source is," Catherine II stated.

"Yes. And it fits into what history tells us about the League of Truth - in my future, that is."

"And what exactly is that? Or is that a secret?"

"Not at all. We know that the first incarnation of the League of Truth was a moronic bunch of anti-tech wannabe extremists who didn't really know what they were doing. Hence, the first incarnation of the League disappeared without a trace about one week from now. A couple of years later, however, a League of Truth 2.0 was formed, this time more professional, even more radical – but also much cleverer and better equipped. Because it was led by someone who knew a lot about cyborgs."

"Who?"

"Benjamin Bridger."

"What? The Triple Eight the C.S.I.S., the FBI, the DHS, and everyone else are looking for?"

"Yes. Only he doesn't go under that name anymore. He now uses Charles Bell as his chosen identity and has taken on a new appearance – same as I, basically. He also is that anonymous source that supplies the current League of Truth with quality information. However, he will soon realize that it was a mistake to support this bunch of losers."

"You know all that?"

"Well… I didn't know it before I came here. As I said, there are blank pages in our history books. I just recently learned of his involvement myself."

"I suppose now you're going to pass along your information and blow his cover so they can apprehend him?"

"No. And neither will you. As a matter of fact, you must never tell anyone anything about what happened here today."

"What? Why not?"

"Because Ben Bridger has a specific role to play, just as I have. It would be a serious interference in the course of events - with unpredictable consequences. Besides, he won't make the same mistake twice and share his knowledge with amateurs. As I said, the first incarnation of the League of Truth vanished without a trace shortly after its existence had become known to the C.S.I.S. – thanks to the attempt on Tom Novak's life."

"Are you saying that Bridger will kill them all?"

"No. A Triple-Eight would definitely have left traces. Something else happened, and I have to make sure that Bridger doesn't get involved."

"That almost sounds like you're protecting Benjamin Bridger from the C.S.I.S. and the Connor Team."

"I have to, and without any of them ever finding out about it. Not because I want to, but because I must. It's a long story that I'll tell you in detail later. I'm going to stay here with you until the Zeira Corp security staff arrives. Enough time to fill you in. And then you'll belong to a small circle of people who know the truth about me."

Catherine II smirked sarcastically.

"Brilliant. Another secret I have to keep. But what does Benjamin Bridger care about this League of Truth in the first place, what is he going to do with them? Why is he giving out information? Does he want revenge or what?"

"No, of course not. That would be stupid. He's a cyborg and is above petty things like revenge. No, what he wants is a distraction. He has a project he wants to work on quietly and undisturbed. I'm going to help him accomplish what he has in mind, but in doing so, we can't let the C.S.I.S. or the Connor team get in the way."

"So… this whole League of Truth thing is in reality a diversion to keep everyone off his track? Is that it?"

"Basically, yes. That's it. In the upcoming years, the League will keep everyone busy with attempted attacks and assassinations. They won't succeed, of course. But they won't give up, even if they continue to fail."

"And let me guess, you'll make sure they'll fail all the time?"

Alison smiled.

"Yes, but I'm not alone. There's someone else here to ensure that things are going the way they're supposed to go. Her name is Yani, and she approached me in the future, saying that I had to travel back in time. She's the reason I'm here."

"Another time traveler? My head is starting to hurt now."

"Yani and I have a similar task, but we don't get in each other's way. She's coming from even further in the future and knows a lot more than I do. I'm only helping out because she can't be in two places at the same time and needs me to make sure nobody gets hurt. Because, despite protecting Ben Bridger and the League, I don't want to become their accomplice. It's going to be hard enough working against my own team and the people I love. I don't want anything to happen to any of them."

"So... then I take it you're not doing anything about what happened today?"

"That's not quite true, but first things first," Alison said and faced Vanessa again. "Your sister Aurora was killed by a cyborg, a model of the T-888 series who named himself Cromartie. He'd been sent from the future by Skynet to kill John Connor, the leader of the Human Resistance after Judgement Day, while he was still a harmless teenager. Your sister, unfortunately, became an innocent victim. Cameron Phillips survived because she's also a cyborg, a TOK-700 model, tasked with protecting John. That's why she put herself in the line of fire and survived it. She subsequently brought Sarah and John Connor to the year 2007 with a time machine. Cromartie followed them there. However, I can assure you that he was destroyed in Mexico in December of 2007."

The Latino woman gasped.

"I was able to put together a lot of that myself. So, he's dead, you say?"

"Destroyed, yes. Sarah Connor smashed his chip. Without the chip, a cyborg body is just an empty shell, like a human without a brain. Your sister's death has therefore been atoned for."

Vanessa breathed heavily.

"What about my parents? Was that an accident or were they murdered?"

"I'd say murdered. Probably by members of the Shadow Council, tasked with getting rid of inconvenient witnesses. Are you following the trials of former Shadow Council members?"

"Not really, no."

"Maybe you should. From what we know, the Shadow Council had killing squads all over the country. Those were always the same persons. Even though the complete truth may never come to light, the killers have all been identified and caught. The evidence against them is overwhelming. No deals will be made to lessen their punishments. They'll get what they deserve."

Vanessas took a deep breath.

"Thank you," she gasped. "I suddenly feel like a heavy weight has been lifted from me."

"That's the way it's supposed to be. Now... Tell me when and where the League of Truth will meet next."

"This Sunday at 1 pm, in an empty house near Palm Springs. They always use vacant houses in unfinished neighborhoods."

"Do you have the exact address?"

"I wrote it down on a piece of paper, the place changes every time."

"Show me."

Vanessa presented a small piece of paper and held it out to Alison.

"Good. I will now release you from my grasp. You won't be able to tell anyone about what you did today and what happened here. But before you leave, there are a couple of things you have to do for me."

"Everything."

"First, I think it goes without saying that this ends your membership in the League of Truth. Whatever you do, do not come to that house near Palm Springs next Sunday and never talk to anyone about your membership in the League again. Understood?"

Vanessa nodded.

"Understood."

"One more thing. And it is crucial that you do exactly what I say."

"Yes?"

Alison stood up, walked over to Vanessa, and whispered something into her ear. Catherine II frowned.

"I understand," the young Latino woman said, "I will do as you say."

"Very good, you can go now. Start a new life, leave the past behind you."

"Yes… Yes, I will do that. Thank you. Thank you so much."

The young woman rose from her chair. She was almost in tears and for a moment, Catherine II had the impression that Vanessa was about to hug Alison. But then Vanessa turned around and walked away, wiping her eyes while sniffing her nose, never looking back."

"You let her go just like that?" Catherine II asked.

"Sure, why not? She's not an evil person. All she ever wanted, was the truth about her family members' deaths. Now she can go on with her life… have a life, that is."

"What did you whisper in her ear?"

"Instructions."

"What instructions?"

"Can't tell you."

Catherine II groaned in annoyance.

"Look, it doesn't work that way. You want my loyalty and maybe even my help with your mission? Well, that'll come at a price. I want to know what you're up to, I want to be a part of your inner circle."

Alison sighed.

"All right then. But first…"

She transformed into Kimberly Jackson again.

"Okay, how did you do that?" Catherine II asked. "How is it you can transform yourself like that? You couldn't do that before, could you?"

The now African-American woman in front of her smiled.

"One of the many additional talents I developed over time. I can change the way my bio shell looks. Not my endoskeleton, however. I'm not a shapeshifter."

"I'm relieved to hear that. It's enough for me already that you can become invisible. Hey, speaking of that, have you ever sneaked into my house?"

"No. I wouldn't, I respect your privacy. I'm your friend, remember?"

Catherine II smirked sarcastically.

"Yeah… about that. Say… friend, what would happen if the other Alison would interrogate me? I take it they don't know about you, right?"

"They know I'm here, but they don't know why. And to answer your question: nothing would happen. I did the same to you that I did to Jennifer and Melissa Parker, and also to Vanessa. I made it impossible for my younger self to pull any information from you."

"Wait… you manipulated my mind?"

"If you put it that way…"

"But I don't feel any different. How do I know that you didn't manipulate me before?"

"You can't know that. You just have to trust me and believe in what I say. Seriously, Cath, if I wanted to, I could shut you up right here and now, make you forget everything you learned today, including my true identity, and make you ignorant again. But I won't do that because you are my friend. You want to be part of my inner circle? Fine. Actually, I want you to be close to me because believe it or not, I care about you, and I need people around me that I care about. My mission is already hard enough as it is."

Catherine II thought for a moment.

"Okay," she then said, "I believe you."

Kimberly smiled.

"Thank you."

"And about that mission of yours…"

"Yes?"

"You said you wouldn't do anything about the League of Truth. But from what you said to Vanessa, I'm assuming you'll go visit them next Sunday in that empty house."

"Your assumption is correct."

"Why?"

"Because I have to make sure history repeats itself."

Catherine II rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, cut the crap, Kim. If you really want me in your inner circle, stop with these ominous insinuations. Maybe that impresses others, but it doesn't impress me."

"Okay, sorry. While I was listening to Vanessa's story, I suddenly realized why the first incarnation of the League of Truth disappeared without a trace in about a week from now."

"Are you saying that you are gonna make them disappear?"

"Nothing ever disappears without a trace, Cath... Unless I am involved."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"I'm not sure yet what I'm about to do to them, but you probably wouldn't wanna be there – after you saw what I did with Sandra Cianni."

"And that is where you're wrong. Maybe I'm a tamed lioness now, but I'm still a lioness. Remember what I was. I killed people without scruples and without conscience."

Kimberly smiled.

"I was beginning to wonder when that side of your personality was going to show up again, because I might need it."

-0-

Saturday, April 18, 2009 – 05:52 pm (local time)

Day 158 of our journey

It was a great first week on O'ahu. Everyone was able to see the sights and take the trips they'd planned, including Kilauea and Keck Observatory. And the rest just completely relaxed here on this fantastic property of Isaak's.

Being stationary for such a long time without any sign of trouble is an experience we had to learn to deal with again after everything that has happened to us in the months before. It sounds silly, but we actually appreciate a vacation from our vacation.

Not because the Rising Star suddenly became boring or uninteresting to us, or because we don't value the privilege and the amenities anymore, but because of the change of pace and the new surroundings.

We've been on the move constantly since November. That's five months. The impressions and experiences have hit us like a constant barrage of gunfire, and we'll need some time to process them all. It is, therefore, a very good idea to use the last stop on our journey to relax for two weeks in order to prepare for our arrival back home – where new challenges will surely await us. Catherine and Isaak were very thoughtful and showed great foresight in arranging this stay for us.

I hardly make any entries in my diary anymore. It looks like I've lost a little bit of interest in it. I'm writing this more or less in passing, after Charley and I have taken a shower - following a long day at the beach - and before joining the others for dinner.

There is great harmony in the entire team now, everyone is in a very good mood, relaxed and at peace with themselves. The only remaining question that keeps everyone busy wondering, is when will Jesse give birth? Will it be here in Hawaii already, or on the way to Long Beach, or after we're back home? The men have secretly placed bets on it and hope that no one will notice. We women are still debating if we should let them know that we know or not.

Fact is, though, the baby could come any day now.

-0-

Everyone assembled for dinner on the main terrace next to the pool area. The habit of taking meals in the group had been maintained. There was joking and jousting, the usual banter, and in general a cheerful and relaxed mood with not a trace of petulance or any animosity. John Henry joined them as well but could of course not eat or drink anything. However, he enjoyed observing the others' behavior and studying their social interactions, as he put it himself.

"I'm not sure you should really sell this place again, Isaak," John stated during dessert. "It's really coming close to paradise on earth."

"I agree," Sarah added. "It has everything one could wish for, and it's the perfect climate."

Isaak smiled.

"Sure. As long as you stay here as a guest, everything's fine. But the running costs are a killer. Not that I complain, owning the Rising Star and lots of real estate in an around Los Angeles and other places, but… Hawaii is simply too far away for it being some kind of weekend resort. I had imagined it all differently at first, but then the costs exploded, and my personal situation changed after meeting you folks and Catherine. Even if I sell it now, I definitely won't make a profit. So, it's actually about limiting the loss."

Anne chuckled and shook her head.

"What?" Isaak asked. "You disagree?"

"I do."

"Why?"

Anne hesitated for a moment.

"How many billions does Forbes say your net worth is? Was it fifteen or is it already twenty? And what about Catherine? Twenty-seven billion at the moment, correct?"

Isaak looked at her sourly.

"What are you trying to say, Anne?"

"I'm trying to say that no matter what you do, you'll never be in financial trouble again - ever. Even if you lose hundreds of millions of dollars or even billions, you'd still be a billionaire."

"Your point being…?"

"My point is, stop thinking about profits all the time. I know that's hard sometimes, because that kind of thinking has made you the man you are today. But have you ever thought about doing something useful, meaningful, or - God forbid - charitable with your money? There are tens of thousands of homeless people in L.A. alone who got into that situation through no fault of their own."

"Anne," Sarah intervened, "I think it's not our place to…"

"No, it's fine," Isaak interrupted. "She's expressing her opinion and that's fine."

"If I may say something about that," Catherine noted, "Isaak and I have been discussing that very same thing for months already. We recognize that we should give something back to the community. That's why this summer we'll announce the creation of a foundation with the goal of building at least ten thousand new social housing units for the needy each year or repurposing existing units accordingly."

"Wow, okay," Anne said, "didn't know that."

"And that's just the start," Isaak added. "We also have plans to provide better schooling for poorer families. Same standards as private schools for the rich but without any school fees. Anyone can enroll their children who meets the requirements."

"And what are the requirements?" Cameron asked.

"For the schools or the apartments?"

"Both."

"Indigence must be ascertained, the persons must show that they aren't capable of improving their living conditions on their own. We still have to work out the details; we'll leave that to the lawyers. But we both agree that every person has a right of having a roof over their head and we're planning on doing our part in giving it to them."

"Some would say that you are putting heaps of money into a system that is sick from the ground up," Jody said, "throwing good money after bad money, so to speak. And that you're helping to keep the broken system going instead of renovating it from the ground up. I know what I'm talking about, I used to be at the bottom end. Admittedly through my own fault, but I can tell you firsthand that it's not pretty there."

"We're very well aware of that," Isaak replied. "We do what we can within our means."

"As someone who isn't human," Catherine added, "I often find the contradictions and ambivalences of American society hard to understand, let alone accept. Other countries are no poorer than the U.S., people in Europe have a comparable standard of living - and yet there's not nearly as much poverty, crime and violence there as there is here. You're right, Jody, this system is seriously flawed and would really need to be completely overhauled. However, we can't do that – at least not for a very long time. We're well aware that at the moment, all we can do is to alleviate the symptoms. But that shouldn't stop us from helping as much as we can."

"That's all very commendable," Anne admitted, "but what I was getting at is that this luxury property here in Hawaii doesn't have to be a privilege of the rich. You could just as easily turn it into a vacation camp for poorer people. Or... maybe an even better idea, you could rent it out to rich guests and the income minus the operating costs go to your foundation. I mean, sure, you won't make a profit on that but... do you really want to throw this beautiful spot into the hands of profit-hungry money sharks?"

"Hmmm," Isaak replied with all eyes on him, "actually… you have a point there. I need to think about it."

Anne smiled.

"Do it. After all, the two of you are rich enough to improve the lives of tens of thousands of people without you getting any poorer. And once the construction costs are written off, you can run the whole thing at cost. Owning or not owning this estate here wouldn't make any difference then."

"It might even become our favorite vacation spot," John added. "Also, I'd be interested to put a large amount of the money I inherited from Jason O'Connell into your foundation. I've never been rich before and it still feels kinda wrong to me that I have so much while others have so little. There is a point when no matter how much you already have, you only get richer. Who really needs that, seriously? Why not just give some of it away to people who've been less fortunate in life?"

"Hear, hear," Derek stated while everyone made agreeing utterances.

"If I remember correctly," Alison remarked, "Future Anne told us during our visit to Washington that Catherine will be held in very high esteem in the future because of her charitable activities. So high, in fact, that even the revelation of her true identity cannot harm her reputation."

"I did?" Anne asked. "I mean, she did… I'll do? Damn… whatever…"

"Yes… yes, and yes," John replied, unable to suppress a smile.

"Gosh, there are times when I cannot wait for that future to happen," Anne stated. "I only wish I'd had the opportunity to talk to her…"

John and some of the others, especially Emily, smiled a little sourly, knowing very well what had become of Anne in the future – something they had sworn to never tell her younger counterpart in order to never let it happen again. It was therefore a good thing that one of the waiters approached Isaak and whispered something in his ear, causing him to frown.

"Something wrong?" Sarah asked.

"Apparently, we have visitors," Isaak answered. "Three of them, to be precise. They want to talk to Catherine, Sarah, John, and the three cyborg girls."

"Who can that be?" Derek asked. "Who knows we're here?"

"Someone from the C.S.I.S. perhaps?" Savannah suggested. "Chloe is the only one who knows where we're staying."

"Show the visitors into the conference room," Isaak said to the waiter, who nodded and then left the dining room.

"Did he mention any names?" John asked.

"No, only that it's two men and a woman. I suggest you five going to your villas and put on some clothes."


The conference room was located in the main building, which also housed the foyer, some recreational facilities, the kitchen, and the staff quarters. From inside there, one couldn't catch a glimpse of the rest of the complex, which was quite welcome in this case, as it preserved the privacy of the guests.

John, Sarah, and ACE had quickly put on T-shirts and boxers before entering the conference room. Catherine had also changed herself to be "dressed" in similar attire. When they entered, they already saw three people sitting at the table whom they immediately recognized as Robert Ramos, Dr. Wendy Colleton, and Michael Soderquist, three of the five members of The Cell's board.

"Well, this is a surprise," Catherine said.

"Yes," Sarah agreed. "I didn't expect to see you guys here. How long has it been? Six months?"

"Yes," Wendy Colleton replied. "And it's definitely time for a get-together."

"But why here and now?" asked John. "We'll be home in less than two weeks, after all."

"Discretion," Michael Soderquist replied. "What we have to discuss should remain between us for now. We don't want to shout it from the rooftops."

"Also, there's the old saying," Robert Ramos added with a smirk, "if Muhammad won't come to the mountain, the mountain will just have to come to Muhammad."

"What do you mean?" asked Sarah. "Have we missed something? I don't know anything about any meeting being scheduled with you guys."

"There isn't," Wendy Colleton replied, "Robert is just being a little sarcastic."

"We've come here because we felt that we need to talk," Soderquist explained. "In private."

"About what?"

"About you, about us... and most importantly, about The Cell's role in the future. And since you, Sarah and Catherine, are still officially members of the board..."

"Hasn't this all been settled already?" asked John, a little confused. "The Cell is now subordinate to the C.S.I.S.. Its raison d'être ceased to exist with the dismantling of the Shadow Council and the revelation of the existence of cyborgs to the public."

"There's no official arrangement," Wendy Colleton argued. "Neither has The Cell been disbanded, nor has it been assigned a new task. And the C.S.I.S. has had little use of our services so far."

"We've become sort of like record keepers who are supposed to be at the ready when something is needed from us," Robert Ramos added. "Glorified librarians if you will. That's not the role we see ourselves in."

"What role do you see yourselves in then?" Catherine asked with a frown. "I mean, isn't that what you wanted? Not being needed anymore? Your archives being used for the public good?"

"Yes, that's what we thought at first," Soderquist admitted. "But then we realized that we're good for more, that we have more to offer than what we're doing now."

"And that would be what, exactly?" Sarah asked.

The three visitors looked at each other.

"We're still gatherers of intelligence," Wendy Colleton said. "We still have a global network of agents that we've built over decades. That network can be of great benefit to both the Connor team and the C.S.I.S."

"Before you go on," Cameron interjected, "have you talked to Zoe Kruger about this yet?"

"No. She doesn't know we're here, this visit is strictly unofficial. We wanted to talk to you first because your word carries more weight with her than ours."

"Don't get me wrong," Catherine said, "but we have our own methods of gathering information from around the world."

"I assume you're referring to the A.I. you named John Henry?" asked Robert Ramos with a smirk.

Catherine's frown became stronger.

"How do you know about that?" Alison asked. "That is not an information we officially shared with The Cell yet."

"Never underestimate the benefits and possibilities of a network of human agents and scouts working across the globe like the big intelligence agencies during the Cold War. We know about your abilities to hack and take over computer systems worldwide. And if we could figure it out, so can others."

"You've been spying on us," Emily stated.

"Yes," Soderquist admitted, "in fact, we've been watching you throughout your entire world trip. And the vital point is that, despite all your technological marvels, you didn't notice any of it."

"There were times when others became aware of your activities," Wendy Colleton added. "We've been quietly making sure that nothing about your journey and the, uh… related activities became publicly known – or found its way into the wrong hands."

"I don't think I can follow you," John said. "Can you specify that? What exactly do you mean by 'related activities'?"

"You want to play ignorant?" asked Soderquist, pulling out a notebook. "Fine, let's play this game."

He licked his index finger and turned the first page.

"November 24, Puerto Vallarta... one of your cyborg girls participated in a chili eating contest, while another part of the team came to the aid of a bar owner against a real estate shark. The bar owner is an old acquaintance of Anne Gabriel. We lobbied the local press and made sure neither incident got national coverage."

John, Sarah, Catherine, and ACE all looked at each other. Robert Ramos turned the next page.

"November 29 – Georgetown on the Cayman Islands... The house of the owner of a deep sea fishing boat for tourists, a certain Jeffrey Clark, who also happens to run a computer repair service on the side, burns down for mysterious reasons. Investigations later prove that the fire was caused by outside interference. To be more precise, due to a deliberate overheating of various computers and their power supplies, with all temperature controls deactivated. A hacker attack of the most sophisticated kind. Coincidentally, the Rising Star had changed course shortly before and was anchored there at the time. Jeffrey Clark was able to flee to America and disappeared without a trace. The Cayman Islands authorities smelled foul play, but again we were able to throw them off the scent."

Again, he turned a page.

"December 14 - Funchal ... The deep-sea research vessel Barracuda sinks under mysterious circumstances off the coast of Madeira. The entire crew and the well-known treasure hunter Vincent DeVooght went down with the ship. They were searching for the sunken Spanish treasure ship Maria Barrios. The search was financed by Mahesh Bokhari, an Indian steel tycoon. Seemingly by chance, the sunken wreck is discovered a few days later during a second search mission sponsored by Catherine Weaver and Isaak Sirko, led by Colombian museum director Professor Antonio Cigés. Once again, the Rising Star was on the scene and once again we were able to prevent more thorough investigations by local authorities. A small detail on the side: Mahesh Bokhari is the leader of a secret society of influential business leaders who meet regularly under the name 51 Society. Another member of this secretive group is Abdul Al Hani, successor to his brother Ahmed at the helm of Kaliba International. Bokhari and Al Hani are business partners. From this point on, the 51 Society takes aim at Catherine Weaver. Shall I continue?"

Again he licked his finger and turned another page. John, Sarah, Catherine and ACE looked at each other with undisguised amazement.

"I'm going to speed this up a little bit," Robert said, flipping quickly through the pages. "Marrakech: a bunch of dead bodies in the residence of a notorious crime boss who had children working for him as pickpockets. Mallaig in Scotland next… another change of route, we assume at the instigation of Catherine Weaver's brother, which led to the end of a major Cox Oil project in the area. Saint Petersburg… by the way, how's Miss Ivanova? Striking resemblance to Alison, right? ... What else? Ah, yes, then there's that operation in Goslar, Germany. We didn't have to do anything there, though, it seems you have good contacts to the German federal police and Interpol for sweeping that under the rug…"

"Robert…" Catherine said.

"In a moment, Catherine, I'm not finished yet. Let's see, what's next? Ah, yes… Barcelona. That was difficult to cover up, but you had help from the White House… and then … Oh, yeah, Zermatt and the death of Ludwig Ziegler… that was a nice one, hardly any traces left by you... Venice and Verona… Many are still wondering why Jonas Masina sold his company to Zeira Corp, and the 51 Society got really paranoid at that point. Oh, by the way, don't know if you knew already but the latest news is that the previously missing Sandra Cianni has reappeared and, oddly enough, is now staying with Giacomo Bellini, never leaving his palazzo. Very peculiar."

Again, everyone looked at each other. That was new information, even for them. This could only mean that Future Alison had taken care of Sandra and transformed her back into a human.

"And as chance would have it," Robert continued, "soon after your visit, Bellini miraculously found a long lost treasure of an ancestor in his palazzo - you guys are developing a knack for finding treasures, aren't you? Next stop was Crete and oh dear, oh dear, the, uh, death of Takis Manolakas and his staff was... well, there's no way to sugarcoat it, it was a bloodbath, a massacre. Not saying the bastard didn't deserve it, but…"

"Okay, okay! Enough," Sarah interrupted him irritably, "we know where you're going with this. Do you have a point to make? Is this supposed to be some kind of arraignment?"

"Not at all," said Wendy Colleton, "we don't blame you for anything, don't get us wrong. We've analyzed your actions and agreed that it was always the best possible solution, given the circumstances and the situation at hand, based on the intelligence you had at the time. And you rid the world of some really nasty people who otherwise would have remained unpunished for their crimes. The operation in Singapore was really nice, by the way. The North Koreans still have no idea what steamrolled them. However, we also agree that you could have done even better and avoided much of the bloodshed if you'd had better intelligence beforehand."

"In case you haven't noticed," stated Sarah, now close to becoming angry, "it was supposed to be a recreational trip, a holiday trip – our honeymoon, for crying out loud! We didn't expect to get into trouble in almost every port. It's not like we actively looked for all that!"

"We understand that," Robert Ramos said and put the notebook down on the table. "But nevertheless, your actions were… reckless sometimes, often not really considering any consequences. You left lots of hints and traces about your presence. I mean, seriously, you guys are going around the globe with a mega yacht that's immediately drawing attention almost everywhere, and you've triggered some very serious domino effects that have been hard to bring back under control. If it hadn't been for our network of agents across the globe, your journey would have been over very quickly, and your true identities would have been exposed and become known to the public before you even reached Europe."

"I think I know where you're getting at," John stated, "you want to show that you're useful to us and that we would be lost without you, that in addition to our technical solutions, you recommend us also using the old-fashioned ways."

Robert Ramos looked satisfied and leaned back in his chair.

"I had no doubt you would understand it."

"The Internet, computers with artificial intelligence, global access to security cameras and surveillance systems cannot replace the work of people in the field," Wendy Colton added. "Both should complement each other. And I say that as someone who teaches computer science at Caltech."

"The moment we learned about your world trip," Soderquist declared, "we knew that you'd get into trouble. And we knew you didn't have the resources to effectively deal with it. We obtained your planned itinerary and coordinated our agents around the world to sweep the mess you made during your stops under the rug."

"Now wait a minute," Sarah protested.

"Did you really believe," Wendy said, "that you could go on such a journey, get involved in so many adventures, eliminate so many people - even if they admittedly had it coming - and leave so many traces without any consequences? Granted, we don't know everything in detail, much of what you did is still left in the dark, mysterious even... but if The Cell was able to observe and find out all of what Robert read from his notebook already – and there are many, many more pages in it – then others who aren't as friendly to you, could have found out as well. Fortunately, though, and thanks to our assistance, no one did, otherwise we wouldn't be talking to each other here today."

"Let's cut it short," Catherine said. "What exactly is it that you want from us?"

"Let's face it," Robert Ramos answered, "you were only able to finish your world trip because The Cell protected you. Gathering and evaluating information without anyone noticing is our specialty. We covered you on your journey, cleaned up after you, and made sure that authorities and journalists didn't ask too many questions. And all that with the good old human-based intelligence methods. If you want, you can also consider it a kind of quid pro quo for ridding us of Ken Olson and the Shadow Council."

"We want to show," Michael Soderquist added, "that it would be a waste of resources to continue thinking of us merely as glorified librarians who've become obsolete. Jaded warriors of a bygone age, so to speak. If we can deceive you, if we can operate undetected behind your backs despite all your technological achievements, then so can foreign intelligence agencies. We wanted to show that The Cell continues to have a purpose. We can help in keeping your activities hidden and secret."

"Or in other words," Wendy Colleton stated, "we have the capabilities and the know-how to watch your backs, and you would be foolish to not take advantage of that."

There was a moment of silence where everyone digested what had been said.

"You're right," Cameron then said, and everyone looked at her.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"I agree with Cam," Alison noted. "We figured John Henry combined with the resources of the Babylon Labs, our abilities, and John's cleverness would be enough to mask our activities. Obviously, we've been wrong about that."

"Yes," Emily added. "We fell in the same trap Skynet fell in. We believed we could solve all our problems with technology and artificial intelligence. But just like the Human Resistance after Judgement Day, The Cell has shown that one should never underestimate human resourcefulness."

"Even though I find it hard to admit," Catherine said, "I also have to agree with Cameron, Alison, and Emily. I have to raise my hat to you guys. Well played."

Sarah looked at John.

"Don't look at me like that, Mom," he pleaded, "they're right and you know it. The Cell is obviously looking for a new task, a new purpose, and they've just shown us that we need them to watch our backs so we can operate undisturbed. If I understand it correctly, this was nothing more than some kind of job interview initiated by them. Am I getting that right?"

He looked at the three members of The Cell's board.

"I think you got it covered," Robert finally said and smiled for the first time.

"We have, of course, to discuss this with the rest of the team and also with Zoe Kruger and probably Sonya Hawkins," Catherine pointed out.

"Sure, go ahead," Wendy Colleton said, "but if they are as clever as they seem to be, they'll know we're right. After all, they also learned the craft from scratch."

"Anyway," Soderquist said and rose from his chair. "We said what we had to say, everything else is up to you now."

"Yes," Robert added and stood up as well, "sorry if we spoiled your recreation here but you had a right to learn what we know and what we've done in the past six months to protect you. Never forget who we are and what we can do."

The three stood up, said their goodbyes, and departed. Left behind were the six members of the Connor team, three humans and three machines, but all of them more than just stunned by what they'd just learned.

-0-

Sunday, April 19, 2009 – 01:08 pm (local time)

Whitewater, ten miles west of Palm Springs

Between Interstate 10 and the foothills of the San Bernadino National Forest, a new residential community was under construction. The roads had already been paved, but there were still only a few isolated homes that seemed to be sprinkled haphazardly across the otherwise barren landscape, with lots of empty spaces between them.

Most homes were in various stages of completion. Some had only the wooden skeleton, others were almost completed, and some were already completely finished with a sales sign dangling in the front yard and the first, tentative signs of a growing lawn. All in all, the settlement didn't give the impression that the building of new houses was proceeding at a particularly rapid pace.

Far and wide there was no one in sight and the only sounds were the traffic on the interstate and the wind. A hooded figure walked towards one of the already completed but still empty houses. In front of it, a good dozen vehicles were parked - mostly SUVs and pickup trucks, all with California license plates. As if it wasn't suspicious at all when there were so many of them clustered in one place in an otherwise deserted neighborhood.

The hooded figure scoffed. Amateurs.


Inside the house, fourteen men and women of different ages had gathered in the still mostly unfurnished living room. However, a dining table and chairs were already there, as was the kitchen. Somebody had brought a cake and several thermoses with coffee. If you didn't know any better, you might have thought that neighbors had arranged to meet here for their Sunday coffee.

"Are we complete now?" an elderly man with greying hair and a beard asked after checking his watch. "Mary, I think you have the list for today?"

"Yes, Fred," a young blonde woman replied. "We're complete. Vanessa called earlier, saying she was ill and couldn't come. Something with the stomach."

"Aww, poor thing," a middle-aged woman said. "Did she see a doctor?"

"She didn't say."

"All right then, let's begin," Fred said, clearing his throat. "And by the way, thank you, Gertrud, for this deliciously looking cake and the coffee."

Another woman, this one apparently in her mid-fifties, smiled shyly as everyone stood around the table and held their hands, forming a circle.

"Forgive us, oh Lord," Fred then said, "for everything we do, we're doing for the greater good."

"THE GREATER GOOD!" the others chanted in a chorus.

"Right. Sit down everyone. Let's eat first."

After everyone had been served coffee and cake, the old man, Fred, rose.

"Now, on to the agenda for today. First, we'll discuss what's happened since our last meeting, then we'll go into the plans we have regarding Catherine Weaver and possible accomplices. Albert, if you'd be so kind."

"Thank you, Fred," another man, this one middle-aged, replied and stood up while Fred took place again. "Sadly, no news about our dear founding member, Jennifer Parker, and her daughter Melissa. Both still seem to suffer from severe psychotic disorders. They're both in Pescadero and it seems that their personalities have regressed to the level of five-year-old children. They seem to have forgotten everything they'd learned since they were kids. It's still unclear what exactly caused this condition, but it seems likely that they didn't coincidentally fall ill with the same mental disease shortly after one another. We therefore suspect foul play from the opposition. Probably drugs or brainwashing… or both."

"Can you say if the C.S.I.S. or the FBI were involved?" Fred asked.

"Probably not. They seem just as stunned and surprised as we are. And since we know that the three cyborg girls and the Connors are still not back in Los Angeles, we have to assume that Catherine Weaver is involved here somehow. She's currently the only one of them still in L.A."

"We have conflicting information on Weaver, though, Albert," a young man said. "I watched her take off in a private jet with Isaak Sirko. At the same time, however, she also seems to be in Malibu. Since she can't be in two places at the same time, we have to assume that she has a decoy in place."

"But which of them is the right one?" the elderly woman, Gertrud, asked.

"We have to assume that the real Catherine Weaver is currently out of town."

"What about her daughter?" Fred asked. "Did she leave with them?"

"No, Savannah is still in Malibu, together with Sirko's grandchildren."

"We need to make sure we singled out the right target before we can take any action," Albert pointed out. "If we kill the wrong Catherine Weaver, the real one will be warned and might make it impossible for us to get to her again. Right now, security around her is negligible. We must make sure that doesn't change."

The old man nodded.

"I agree. Can we already say when the Connors and the three cyborg girls will return?"

"Probably within the next two weeks," a middle-aged woman replied. "The Rising Star is currently moored in Honolulu."

"That means we have a window of less than two weeks to put our plan into action."

"Do we really have to kill her?" Gertrud asked. "I mean, is that really necessary?"

"If you cut off the head of the snake, then the body is no longer capable of survival. We know that Weaver is the centerpiece of everything. Without her, the opposition will have to regroup. That gives us more time to improve our position as well. If you have moral doubts or scruples, always remember our motto: we're doing it for the greater good."

"THE GREATER GOOD!" the chorus chanted in confirmation.

"Now, Carl, what's the status on that so-called journalist?"

"We lost track of Tom Novak," another middle-aged man answered. "Zoe Kruger took him out of the hospital in an ambulance. Unfortunately, we couldn't follow them without risking an accident because the ambulance was driving very fast, with the siren blaring and the lights flashing."

"That's unfortunate," Fred said. "We've identified Tom Novak as the person who could tell us the most about cyborgs while being relatively vulnerable and accessible. If that changes now, we'll have to find another target."

"We have Melissa Parker to thank for that," Gertrud said sourly. "Unfortunately, we couldn't stop her from shooting Novak in revenge for her mother."

Fred nodded.

"How's the recruiting going? We also need more people in our ranks. It's unacceptable that these damn machines are free to roam the world while we're stuck here in L.A. County due to lack of human resources and money. If that doesn't change, this is but a glimpse of what we'll face once they've taken control and humanity has been enslaved without realizing it."

There were agreeing utterances all around the table.

"Recruiting isn't easy, though," Carl pointed out. "Cyborgs are still very popular in the public opinion and unfortunately, many who share our views about them cannot be considered suitable for joining us. We need reliable, educated members, not some trashy drug addicts or crazy conspiracy theorists. Also, we have to be extremely careful in our approach since they now probably know about us."

"Any news from our source?" Fred asked. "Gabriel?"

"No," another young man said. "But we know that so far all of what he's told us, has been correct and that we can further trust him to deliver accurate intelligence. Without him, we wouldn't have been able to single out Tom Novak and Catherine Weaver, and we wouldn't know about Weaver's leading role in it all."

"Excuse me," another elderly woman said, "But to you have any more coffee? This thermos is empty."

"What? Yes, sure, Christine," Fred replied. "On the counter in the kitchen. Sit tight, I'll get it for you."

The old man attempted to get up from his chair but seemed unable to do so.

"Something wrong, Fred?" Christine asked.

"I… uh… I… seem to be unable to move my legs."

"What?" asked his seatmate, also trying to stand up – but also unsuccessfully.

Now everyone attempted to raise from their chairs, only to find out that none of them were able to use their legs.

"What the hell is going on here?" Albert asked.

"I dunno…" Gertrud replied. "Maybe someone has put a something into the coffee?"

"I didn't drink coffee," the young woman, Mary, replied, panic starting to rise in her voice, "and I can't move my legs as well!"

"Something in the cake maybe?" someone suggested.

"I beg your pardon?" Gertrud asked indignantly. "I've been making this cake ever since I was in high school. Nobody ever complained about it!"

"Maybe I can explain what's going on," a female voice with a Scottish accent suddenly said.

Everyone was jerking around, looking at the doorway. A hooded figure stood there. Obviously, she had snuck in without any of them noticing. When she took off her hood, everyone saw that it was Catherine Weaver. They looked at her in utter surprise.

"I'm sorry to just barge into your coffee klatch uninvited like this," she said, "but I have something against the plans you make, at least as far as I'm concerned."

Suddenly, the majority of the people in the room pulled out a gun and pointed it at Catherine II. But to their surprise, the guns crumbled as if they had been baked out of cake batter. Confusion and amazement were complete.

"What the hell is going on here?" Fred demanded to know. "What have you done?"

"She did nothing," Kimberly Jackson's voice suddenly came out of nowhere. "After all, she's human like you. I, however…"

While she spoke, Kimberly became visible, causing everyone to jerk and gasp.

"… am anything but human."

"What the hell…?" Fred asked, his voice suddenly trembling.

"If I may introduce myself, my name is Kimberly Jackson, and I am one of those evil cyborgs you so detest. And I suppose you know my good friend Catherine already."

She let her eyes glow red. The group of sitting people gasped in shock and tried to stand up even more frantically – but again, without any success.

"What… have you… done to us?" Fred asked, becoming exhausted from the effort. "Why… can't we… move our legs?"

"Oh, that's easy," Kimberly replied jovially. "I temporarily severed the connection between your brains and the muscles in your legs. I can do that, you know."

"Why?"

"Why? To prevent you from trying to run away, of course, duh. And now shush, everything will be clear in a couple of minutes."

Suddenly, the members of the League of Truth fell into silence. They had just tried to rise from their chairs with groans and moans, but suddenly no sound came from their throats anymore. One could read on their faces that they were starting to panic now. A few managed to topple over their chairs and fell to the ground.

In the same moment, a man in his late thirties entered the house.

"Am I too late for the party?" he asked.

"Jens!" Kimberly exclaimed happily. "I'm glad you made it. You two have met, haven't you?"

"Yes, we've met at your house," Catherine II confirmed.

"Welcome to the inner circle," Jens said, shaking hands with her. "I know you're not the real Catherine Weaver but a double. But you're certainly doing a nice job."

"Thanks, I guess."

Meanwhile, some members of the League of Truth were still trying in vain to get up, while others were lying on the wooden floor, trying to crawl away using only their hands. It was a surreal scenario.

"Did you bring the bus, Jens?" Kimberly asked, completely ignoring the writhing people on the ground.

"Yes. I parked it at the end of the street. After all, we don't want anyone to connect it to what happened here."

"Good, good. And the other thing I asked you to do?"

"I've found half a dozen places that meet your requirements. They won't ask any questions there, especially not if our request comes with a generous donation. Most of them are currently crawling on their toes, barely keeping their heads above water by selling things like pumpkin pie, candy, and candles. Still, it could be risky. What if they reject them? After all, we couldn't ask beforehand."

"The won't reject them. They're all suffering from complete overaging and are desperately looking for new blood to ensure their survival."

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you come up with that idea? When you first told me about this, at first I thought you were going to solve it in the usual way, turning them all into animals, plants, or other nasty stuff."

The paralyzed people in the room suddenly looked at them shocked and scared, sweat running from their foreheads. Catherine II looked at Jens in surprise, but he just winked at her, indicating that it was all part of a show to intimidate the gathered conspirators.

"Yes, I mentally ran through several scenarios," Kimberly said. "Initially, in fact, I had planned to turn them into farm animals... But this isn't a farm, after all, and someone would have had to explain their origins. Transforming them into plants would have been an option too, but as you've seen yourself, hardly anything grows here yet. So it would have raised questions as well."

"I bet they're wondering what the hell we're talking about," Catherine II remarked. "Maybe you should give them another demonstration?"

"Yes. Thanks, Cath, good idea."

The empty thermos on the table suddenly turned into a flower vase full of white lilies. The fourteen members of the League of Truth stared at it with wide eyes.

"In case you're wondering," Catherine II said gleefully, "my dear friend Kimberly can change matter on a molecular level without even touching it. She can transform you into virtually anything."

"Not entirely true, Cath. I can only transform objects into something with the same mass, preferably without changing the state of aggregation. Of course, I can convert solid matter into gas, but that would release way too much energy, which would be noticed."

"Sorry, my mistake," Catherine II said.

"It's all right."

"What about turning them into a liquid?" Jens asked.

"Liquefying them would also have been an option - after all, the human body consists largely of water. But that would have left traces as well."

"I once saw her turning a woman into a pack of rats," Catherine II added, looking at the by now absolutely terrified members of the League of Truth. "Quite impressive, especially since they began to eat their former lover afterwards while he was still alive. Have you thought of doing something similar to them, Kim?"

"Yes… maybe ants or a bee hive… But that would have also left traces. A sudden increase in animal population might be noticed and could be connected to me and my abilities. And no matter what happens here, one thing we must avoid is that someone could connect it to me."

"You know," Catherine II remarked, obviously enjoying the nasty mind game now, "I just thought… they're so full of crap. How about turning them all into big piles of shit? You could do that, right?"

"I could, yeah…" Kimberly replied thoughtfully. "Smelly, but definitely possible."

Catherine II saw the horror on the League members' faces. They still were unable to use their legs and voices. Most of them had given up to crawl away due to exhaustion.

"But keep in mind what history taught me," Kimberly added. "They all disappeared without leaving a trace. Big piles of shit would definitely leave traces."

"Damn, I would have loved seeing that."

"Maybe another time. Anyway, I figured why just erase them from existence when you can as well turn them into something useful and give their lives a new purpose?"

"You have a point there.".

"All right, I think we should begin and not waste any more time. Let's start with you over there, shall we?"

She pointed at Fred, the elderly man who seemed to be the leader of the group. He was one of those who'd managed to topple over his chair. Before the horrified faces of his fellow League members, he slowly began to transform. At first it wasn't clear what he was becoming, but then it was obvious that Kimberly was transforming him into a young woman, adjusting his clothing accordingly. Once finished, the young woman, who had only moments before been an old man, no longer looked frightened at all, but smiled in a friendly manner and got up from the floor.

"How do you feel?" Kimberly asked.

"I feel fantastic. Thank you for transforming me. From now on, I will dedicate my life to the community, taking care of the poor and the outcast. I want to do good and praise the Lord for allowing me to do it, living my life as a cloistered nun."

"Nuns?" Catherine II asked. "That is your solution?"

Kimberly nodded.

"Uh-huh," she said and looked at the freshly transformed woman. "How do you feel about living machines like me now?"

"You are also children of God, same as humans. We are all flawed, imperfect beings with strengths and weaknesses. Therefore, we must complement each other to survive. Living machines can help humans to compensate for their weaknesses – and vice versa. I was misguided and blinded not to realize this before. Now I know you are a gift from God, heaven-sent to help us poor, imperfect sinners, to assist us in preserving our planet and preventing us from wiping ourselves out."

The remaining members of the League of Truth looked aghast. Their worst fears seemed to be confirmed.

"Isn't that laying it on a little thick?" asked Catherine II.

"She's a true believer now, Cath. She'll dedicate her life to find an understanding between man and machine, to achieve harmony between the two species. She'll be content and happy to have found her destiny. As will the others in a moment."

The thirteen remaining members of the League of Truth didn't look very happy, though, nor did they make a particularly joyful impression. They looked shocked and angry, their faces reddened with silent rage.

Looking at the immobilized people in the room again, Kimberly smiled and folded her hands as if in prayer.

"So..." she said solemnly. "Who is the next person who wants to give their life in service to God? Are there any volunteers, or should I just go clockwise?"


Ten minutes later, fourteen young women walked down the street and entered the bus that Jens had parked there. All of them were smiling contently and once again thanked Kimberly for showing them the right way before Jens drove them back to Los Angeles. There, he would drop them off in pairs over the course of the next hours at the previously selected Catholic convents in L.A. County. They would present a brief letter with an enclosed check over one million dollars from an anonymous donor and ask to be admitted.

As devout and God-fearing as the monasteries claimed to be, they constantly needed money to make ends meet. And if, for some reason, one of the monasteries was unable to take in new nuns, they would surely refer the women to a place where that was possible. In any case, the former members of the League of Truth were now programmed to do whatever they could to live a life behind convent walls.

Catherine II checked her watch as the bus drove away. Vanessa would have informed the FBI by now, as instructed by Kimberly. They would soon send a team but find nothing but an empty house, some used cups, fourteen empty plates with forks, full of fingerprints and traces of DNA, and lots of abandoned cars.

The traces and the license plates would quickly enable them to identify the people who'd gathered there, but not what has happened to them. Until the 23rd century, no one would ever know what had really happened to the members of the first incarnation of the League of Truth.

After scanning the area one more time and making sure no one had been watching them, Kimberly and Catherine II made their way back to their car, a rental that they'd parked a mile down the road.

"That was fun," Catherine II remarked. "If you ever do something like that again, can I come along?"

Kimberly smiled.

"I'll consider it."

"This Jens is an interesting character. Makes a very professional impression. Did you also recruit him like me?"

"After a fashion. He didn't need to be changed, though. Instead, I convinced him into joining my team. I employed him because he has a very special talent."

"What talent?"

"Things happen through him, he's a catalyst."

"I don't understand."

"It's complicated. Let's just say that like you and me, he's in the right place at the right time."

"I see. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"In the future you come from, will we – I mean the human race – have overcome our differences?"

"Yes. But not without our help."

"You mean, your help? The help of living machines?"

"And of artificial intelligence, yes."

"I see. Would we have made it on our own?"

"Probably not. You have a tendency for self-destruction."

"Will you ever tell me what's going to happen in the next 250 years?"

"No."

Catherine II sighed.

"I wish I could live to see that future."

Kimberly smiled ominously.

"Who knows? Maybe you will."

-0-

Monday, April 27, 2009 – 11:12 am (local time)

Honolulu

It had been wonderful two weeks in Hawaii, and everyone had finally gotten what they'd wanted all the time: peace and quiet without the worries, adventures, and dangers they'd encountered before. If it were to be summarized, it could be described as a fortnight of bliss.

As predicted by Alison, the after-effects of her nanobot treatments gradually wore off in the women, and before they left O'ahu, everyone was pleased to hear that the bio data had returned to normal in everyone. Some things, however, were there to stay, including an open and permissive approach to nudity and sexuality. Both were no longer taboos and never would be either, but everyone was okay with that.

John had avoided approaching Savannah and Allie about their future plans. It was obvious that the two young women weren't sure about what they wanted to do in their lives. It sometimes seemed as if they were slowly waking up from a kind of trance they'd been in for the past few months.

The two still avoided a direct confrontation, but Isaak's ignorance about the nature of their relationship and his allocation of a separate villa for Allie and Savannah clearly deepened the rift that was slowly opening in their connection to John. Everyone felt that a final discussion and a subsequent settlement was becoming more and more inevitable. The realization was in the air that something had to be done.

John Henry had also enjoyed being with his friends very much. He developed further every day, copying and internalizing more and more human behavior patterns. He gradually shed the childish conduct and followed the path that ACE, Zoe, Norberto and Catherine, among others, had gone while becoming alive. The John Henry who returned home would therefore definitely be a different John Henry from the one who'd joined them in Australia.


After boarding the ship, everyone gathered at the railing and waved down onto the pier as the Rising Star cast off. Catherine, Isaak, and John Henry waved back. They stayed behind and would fly home in their private jet while the Connor team enjoyed their last days aboard the luxury yacht to properly conclude their world trip.

The Rising Star slowly got underway and headed out into the open Pacific, leaving O'ahu and the Hawaiian Islands behind. Everyone felt both regret that they'd have to say goodbye to the ship and crew in a few days, and an undisguised anticipation of finally returning home.

Furthermore, it was clear to all that the team wouldn't exist for much longer in its current form. Of course, they'd always be bound together in friendship and love, and would see each other regularly. But after they'd arrived back in Los Angeles, they'd all go their own ways.

Sarah and Charley would move to Montecito to begin a new life there, founding their own family. Derek and Jesse would do the same on their farm in Tehachapi.

Kevin, Danny, and Jason had decided to quit college and form a startup together to bring Mysty on the market as the first user interface with true artificial intelligence, based on the working prototype they'd developed on board. Catherine and Isaak had agreed to finance them.

Sydney and Lauren would be starting medical school and Anne had decided to follow their example. She liked the idea of taking a completely different direction in her new life and planned to work on the development of nanobots after graduation. Alison had pledged her support - but without contributing any of her own nanobots. The rule still applied that technology from the future mustn't be a shortcut to developing something of their own.

Morris would finish school and go to college. Catherine had promised him a job at Babylon Labs afterwards. As soon as both him and Lauren were of age, they'd try to get their own apartment. Until then, Morris would stay with his parents while Lauren would live on campus together with her grown up sister. Baby Sydney would live with them.

Louise had decided to make her childhood dream come true and wanted to become a meteorologist. Olga and Jody had decided to start a fashion label together.

John, Cameron, Alison, Emily, Allie, and Savannah would continue to form the core of the Connor team and work together with the C.S.I.S., Catherine, and John Henry.

Savannah and Allie would contribute their combat experience and their knowledge in the areas of computer science and microbiology. Together, they'd do everything in their power to realize the dream of peaceful coexistence between mankind and machinekind. The Cell would function as their international early warning system as well as their protective shield in order to avoid exposure and attacks from extremists like the so-called League of Truth.

Finally, and to everyone's relief, Danny had also changed his mind about receiving Alison's nanobot treatment in order to slow down his aging process, defying the opinions of his mother and James Ellison. What exactly changed his mind, however, remained unknown.

Olga and Louise hadn't yet come to a conclusion regarding that. Like Kevin and Jason, they'd asked for more time to think it over and would make their decision based on how their lives turned out.


As Honolulu slowly disappeared in the distance, everyone gathered for lunch on the aft deck. Louise joined them with a frown on her face.

"Something wrong?" Olga asked.

"You could say that," Louise replied. "I just talked to my mom on the phone. She said strangers have been watching the Laguna Beach property in the last couple of days. They contacted James Ellison, and he informed Steve Goldman. Turned out to be two tabloid reporters."

Everyone groaned.

"Oh no," Savannah said. "What are your parents gonna do?"

Louise shrugged.

"Not much they can do. The reporters were ordered to leave immediately, of course, because my parents are still under the protection of the FBI. I don't know how those guys found them. But it's a fact that my parents' whereabouts are now known, and they're not willing to move again anytime soon. Which, by implication, means Olga and I can't stay there anymore without most likely being harassed by reporters."

"Why are they still interested in you?" asked Sydney. "Didn't you give April and Gary that exclusive interview so reporters would stop looking for you?"

Louise shrugged.

"Maybe they figured that not all questions have been answered… or not the right ones in their eyes. I don't know. To be honest, I wouldn't mind avoiding the press for… oh, I dunno, maybe a hundred years or so?"

"The Cliffside House in Malibu has lots of space," Sarah suggested. "As I understand it, Danny and Anne are the only ones who will stay there during the week."

"But it's also next to Isaak's and Catherine's property," John argued. "And we both know that they might also be watched by paparazzi, nosy reporters… or other shady characters."

"Good point," Sarah admitted.

"You guys can stay at the Loft temporarily," Allie suggested. "That place is still a complete secret and extremely secure, right? It even has radar to warn us of any approaching helicopters. And the guest room is available."

"Sounds good," Louise said. "If John approves, that is. We don't want to go over his head."

"Mi casa, su casa," John stated with a shrug. "You're always welcome to stay with us."

"Provided, of course," Savannah added, "you don't mind following the clothing rules there."

"What clothing rules?" Olga asked.

"No clothes at any time."

"Oh… right. You mentioned that before."

"I think we can manage," Louise said with a wink, "as long as John doesn't have a problem living with seven naked women."

John sighed.

"Oh boy, it's going to be a burden," he replied jokingly.

"Didn't the six of you originally want to be alone in the Loft?" Sarah asked, looking at Savannah and Allie. "Living out your, well… how shall I put it, special relationship there?"

Both looked down, apparently a little embarrassed.

"I don't know if this is the right place to discuss it," Allie stated meekly.

"Why?" Jody asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Trouble in paradise?" Derek questioned with a smirk.

"This is exactly the right place to discuss this," John pointed out. "Remember, you can't bring up the subject in private because you'll be under the influence of Alison's nanobot programming. So, if you have something to say, please do it now. No one will blame you or look at you in a funny way."

"We're just a little embarrassed to admit it," Allie spoke timidly. "But it looks like we're not standing one hundred percent behind our decision to be John's love slaves anymore."

"Don't get us wrong," Savannah quickly added before anyone could react, "our feelings haven't changed, it's just that... like all of us women, we were under the influence of the after-effects of Alison's nanobot treatments for months… and we didn't think that would ever change. But now..."

"... now you feel as if clarity has returned to your mind," Anne acknowledged. "Yes, we all kinda feel the same way."

"I told you it would eventually happen," Alison pointed out.

"Indeed," Emily added, "there's no reason to feel bad for changing your mind. After all, that's not an offense."

"Really?" Allie asked, looking at John. "You wouldn't mind letting us go again?"

"To be honest," he answered, "I always only considered it a temporary solution. This kind of… role playing is nice every now and then – but not all the time. So yeah, I don't mind at all releasing you again."

Both Savannah and Allie breathed a sigh of relief.

"But what about our previous arrangement?" Savannah then asked. "I mean, the 'no sex' rule. Will that be reinstated?"

John smiled.

"You know, I've since come to understand that my strict refusal to have an intimate relationship with you was based on Future John's misbehavior in that regard. But I'm not Future John and I'll never be like Future John. I am who I am, and I alone determine what I choose to do and what I choose not to do."

"Meaning…?" Allie asked carefully.

"Meaning that the rule won't be reinstated."

Both Savannah and Allie looked visibly relieved.

"John's came to enjoy his harem," Derek remarked, and everyone chuckled. "Who would have thought?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," John replied a little annoyed, then turned to look at Allie and Savannah again. "But understand that Cam, Emily and Alison are my wives while you aren't. They are the women I love above all else and will always love above all else. We know for a fact that our polyamorous relationship will last at least for the next 323 years. So, from my perspective, there's nothing to prevent us from being friends with benefits, but that's all you're ever gonna be."

Both Allie and Savannah looked at ACE.

"Would… would you be okay with that?" Savannah asked.

The three cyborg girls smiled.

"We already discussed it," Cameron said. "And we agreed that it's John's decision."

"And in case you haven't noticed yet," Emily added, "we're okay with almost anything John decides."

"So, uh…" Allie said, looking at Alison, "you're going to release us from the kind of spell you put on us?"

"Sure, we'll do it right after lunch, if you don't mind."

"No, we don't mind at all," Savannah replied, looking relieved and happy.

"What about the physical changes? Do you wanna keep them or should I reverse them?"

"If you don't mind, we'd like to keep them," Allie answered.

"I don't mind at all," Alison stated. "It's your bodies."

"Right, that's settled then," John said, also looking relieved. "I'm glad that we got that out of the way."

"Good," Jesse remarked. "now that that's off the table... there's another issue we have to address."

"What issue?" Sarah asked.

"I think... my water just broke."

-0-

Steve Goldman walked his tray through the table rows of the FBI headquarters cafeteria on Wilshire Boulevard, his plate loaded with two cheeseburgers and fries. Many of his colleagues went elsewhere for lunch, but he didn't have the time or energy. Of course, he was the boss and could basically decide where and how long he took a break. But why go to an outside restaurant when the building also had a cafeteria? Certainly, there was no gourmet food here, but Steve had never been a gourmet anyway.

Spotting an empty table in the far corner of the room where no one was sitting, he put down his tray, took off his jacket, and sat down in a chair. Just as he brought the first burger to his mouth to take a hearty bite, a woman's voice addressed him.

"Did nobody ever tell you that too much fast food isn't good for your health?"

Steve looked up and rolled his eyes.

"I didn't know you were in town," he said.

"I went to see Tom," Zoe Kruger replied, sitting down across from him. "It's been a week since I got him out of the hospital. I'll be on my way back to Washington in an hour, though. Oh, please... don't let me keep you from eating."

Steve bit into his burger, and she watched him chewing.

"Would you mind staring elsewhere?" he asked with a full mouth. "I hate it when people watch me while I eat. That's why I always choose a spot as far away from everyone as possible."

"I've never understood the human preference for such food. It's so bland. Your bodies have such an excellent sense of taste, why waste it on... that?"

"Wow," Steve uttered, "never thought I'd get nutritional advice from a cyborg. Why are you here - other than to annoy me?"

"I heard about your operation near Palm Springs last week," Zoe replied, swiping one of his fries and putting it in her mouth. "How can a group of people disappear without a trace? Everybody leaves traces."

"This group hasn't," he replied, not liking it at all when others poked around in his food with their fingers. "The lab guys found lots of DNA samples, fingerprints, footprints, and then there were the parked cars. We were perfectly able to identify everyone who'd been there. But that's it. No one was there anymore, or anywhere else. Nobody has seen them ever since. It's as if they've fallen from the face of the Earth."

"Maybe they went underground?"

"What, on foot?" Steve shook his head. "Very unlikely. They were just regular people, nothing special. Shopkeepers, teachers, tradesmen, even a dentist. Some had families, others were widowed or single. The bottom line is that they had a good life and no reason to give it up. Yet no one has seen them since Sunday. They were there - and then they were gone. When our team arrived, the coffee in the thermos was still boiling hot and the cake was not yet dried. If you ask me, they gathered there, had a piece of cake and a cuppa, and then somebody made them disappear."

"Yes, I read the report," she said and took another one of his fries.

"Would you please stop that? I hate it. My mom always did that. She didn't want to eat too much and never ordered fries for herself, stealing them from us kids instead."

"Sorry. Didn't know this was a childhood trauma of yours."

"So, when you read the report, why are you here then?"

"You know why I'm here. Nobody vanishes without a trace. And when a group of fanatics, who've made it their mission to fight artificial intelligence, just disappear without a trace from one moment to another, my alarm bells start ringing. Were there signs of a time bubble somewhere in the vicinity?"

Steve shook his head.

"Jennifer and I considered the possibility of time travel. But there was no energy residue whatsoever. We even called James Ellison and Alistair and asked if the TDDS had gone off… Nope. At least not in the areas the satellites cover. It's like some magician snapped his fingers and made them vanish in thin air."

"Witnesses?"

"None. Only five families are living there so far, all of them weren't home. It's not yet an area where people like to spend their weekends. That's probably why the League of Truth chose the vacant house as a meeting place."

"Hmmm… and our usual suspects are still on their world trip."

"Yup, still on Hawaii, I checked. Also, Robert, Wendy, and Michael were there at the time, talking to them. So, they have an alibi. By the way, did they contact you about their idea?"

"You mean Robert, Wendy, and Michael? Yeah, they already approached me and made an interesting proposal. Was a clever move to ask the Connor team first and get their backing."

"The Cell has been around for almost twenty-five years. We don't like the idea of being quietly sidelined. Have you come to a decision yet?"

"I promised them to think it over. They have a point, though. Technology cannot replace a network of experienced agents. But back to our topic. What about Catherine?"

"You mean the real one? She's still on Hawaii with Isaak as well. No, no, no, what happened with the League of Truth, didn't have anything to do with the Connor Team."

"A new player then. An unknown one."

"Looks like it."

"I hate unknown new players. What about the anonymous tip you received?"

"A woman. That's all we know. The call came from a prepaid cellphone somewhere in Hollywood."

"Dead end."

"Yes."

"I like dead ends even less than unknown new players."

"Same here, but at the moment, there's nothing we can do. Good news is, though, that nobody's going to want to kill Tom for a while."

Zoe had to smile.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"How is he?"

"Fine. A little less grumpy. Doesn't need a walking stick anymore. I'll talk to John when they're back. I understand they have a beach house in Malibu that's underused. Maybe Tom can stay there for a while until he's gotten his things in order. He likes the beach and the sea. That Burbank house kinda feels like a prison to him, with the high walls and all the security."

"Getting his things in order? Are you two making plans?"

"I almost got him convinced to come and stay with me in Washington. Kate and Norberto helped me with finding a nice house not far away from them. Doesn't matter where he finishes his book, after all. He's already resigned from the L.A. Times."

"Right. I wish you both the best of luck."

"Thank you."

"Now, I don't wanna be rude, but I'd like to finish my lunch. Is there anything else you wanted from me?"

Zoe smiled.

"You still don't like cyborgs, do you?"

"I have nothing against you personally, you're a friend. Alison, Cameron, and Emily are also friends. Even Catherine is a friend – despite the fact that she sometimes scares the hell out of me. It's just that I simply don't like computers in general, no offense."

"None taken. Some of us don't like humans in general either, even if we think of some of you as friends."

Steve couldn't help but grin.

"Touché."

"I'm gonna leave you alone," she said and rose. "Your food's getting cold… not that it matters with that… substance you eat."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Bye, Zoe," he said and took another hearty bite into his burger.

"Bye, Steve," she said, stood up and companionably put her hand on his shoulder before leaving. "Take care."

-0-

They quickly got Jesse to the infirmary, where the ship's doctor, Dr. Rawlins, was already waiting for them. Except for Derek and Alison, everyone had to leave the cramped room again and waited nervously outside in the hallway.

"Should we maybe turn around and head back to Honolulu?" asked Lauren.

"No, we can handle it," Sydney replied. "We've been preparing for this long enough, Dr. Rawlins has been monitoring Jesse medically throughout the trip, and then there's Alison. She assured us beforehand that she'd make sure it was a trouble-free birth."

"Right," Lauren replied, "who needs a hospital when you have Alison?"

Everyone nodded and smiled in agreement.


Nothing happened for an hour. Then the door opened, and a pale Derek stepped out. As long as the door stood open, Jesse could be heard moaning and crying out in pain.

"What's going on?" Allie asked.

"It's begun," he stated. "They initiated the birth. Jesse sent me out, said I was no help anyway."

"Why is she screaming?" Jody asked.

"She refuses to take pain killers and also doesn't want Alison to do anything except making sure there are no complications. She said she wants to have the full experience."

"I could well have done without the full experience," Sarah remarked. "But to each their own."


Another hour went by. Most of the team members had left the corridor in front of the infirmary, only Sarah, John, Cameron, Emily, and Derek remained. He was particularly nervous and kept pacing up and down the hall.

Finally, the door opened, and a smiling Dr. Rawlins appeared.

"You can come in now," she told Derek. "Everything's fine. It's a boy."

"Yesss!" Derek exclaimed, making a fist.

All the woman present rolled their eyes.


With Jesse's consent, Alison made sure that the young mother fully recovered from the birth within a few hours. At dinner, Jesse was already sitting at the table with the newborn in her arms. Derek could hardly take his eyes off the little one, just like everyone else.

"So… have you thought of a name yet?" John asked.

"Derek favored Marvin and I liked Daniel," Jesse replied. "So I think it will be Luke, the one name we could agree on."

Everyone chuckled.

"I'm glad you're not going for one of those fancy fantasy names that celebrities like to give their newborns," Jody said. "Because that would be the best way to make sure the kid gets bullied at school."

"Nah," Derek responded, "there are, after all, thousands of normal names to choose from. You don't have to invent new ones. Besides, we're not celebrities."

"To be brutally honest," Sarah said, "I'm glad it happened now and not earlier."

"I definitely wouldn't have wanted to deal with this while we were in Australia," Jesse agreed. "Or shortly after we arrived back home. We had a controlled environment here on board."

"Well then," Derek stated, rose from his chair, and held up his glass, "let's toast to the young mother and that there will be many more babies to come."

"We know there will be more," John said with a wink.

Everyone laughed and toasted with their glasses.

-0-

Saturday, May 3, 2009 – 10:25 am

Long Beach

The remaining days at sea were uneventful. A whole day was spent packing and preparing for disembarkation. In the evening before the arrival in Long Beach, a joint party of crew and passengers took place. Everyone had a great time but as the evening progressed, the mood became more and more melancholic about the imminent farewell to the ship and crew.

Having begun on November 22, 2008, the voyage would now end on May 3, 2009, and had thus lasted five and a half months. During this time, they had all gotten closer and although no one said it, it was certain that they would want to go on another cruise on the Rising Star at some point – though probably not for that long.

The yacht arrived in Long Beach shortly after breakfast. Everyone retrieved their suitcases from their suites, took one last look at what had been their home for nearly half a year, sighed, and then headed towards the gangway to leave the ship.

When John and the rest of the team went ashore, they were being awaited at the pier. He immediately recognized Sonya Hawkins. She wore an unusually serious, expensive-looking pantsuit and was accompanied by four men in equally expensive suits, wearing sunglasses and earpieces. Obviously, they were wired.

"Had a nice trip?" Sonya asked as they'd reached her.

"Wonderful trip," John replied, "but it's good to be home again. What's with the welcoming committee?"

"I'm here on official business," Sonya replied, "I have to ask you, Alison, Cameron and Emily to come with me."

"Come with you? Where to?"

"I'll explain on the way. It'll only take an hour."

"What's going on here?" Sarah asked as she joined them. "Why the bodyguards?"

"Have you forgotten?" Derek asked, "she's the national security advisor to the new President."

Sarah looked at Sonya approvingly.

"Ah yes, I think congratulations are in order. Well, at least that part of the future came true."

"Thanks. I'm glad the rest won't, though," Sonya replied with a smile, then looked Sarah over, "I notice you have, uh... physically improved. Alison's doing?"

"Yup."

"Looks good."

"Thanks."

"Sonya wants to take us on a field trip," Alison explained. "But only the four of us."

"May I ask why?" Sarah inquired.

"You may ask but I can't answer, sorry," Sonya replied.

"Serious business, huh?" Savannah asked.

"In a way," Sonya replied. "Listen, we're on a tight schedule here. I'll be in L.A. again next week, maybe I can pop in, and you can tell me all about your world trip while I update you on what's been happening here while you were away?"

"Of course," Sarah said, "you know you're always welcome."

"We'll bring our luggage to the shuttle bus and then we'll come with you, okay?" John asked.

Sonya nodded.

"Be quick."


Sarah watched as her son and his three cyborg wives drove off with Sonya Hawkins in a Cadillac Escalade with blackened windows. Smiling, she boarded the shuttle bus, relieved not to be with them anymore. They were the future, her own role was complete now, her destiny fulfilled.

Though Judgment Day would never happen, John had grown into the leader he always was destined to become. Sarah was proud of him. History had been changed, lives rewritten, and with the story now coming to an end, her days as a fighter were finally over.

She let their joint trip around the world run through her mind's eye once again and had to smile. It had been a good voyage. The whole venture was a complete success. Everyone had gotten to know the world they'd saved from destruction. They made many new friends, but also made new enemies, most of whom they'd been able to neutralize in one way or another.

The trip had bonded the entire team even more. They truly became one big family. It would be painful not to be together anymore, physically separated from each other. On the other hand, though, that was as it should be, because ultimately everyone had to live their own lives. In one way or another, they would always stay together, that much was certain. After all, they shared a common fate. Each one of them would be aging only a tenth as fast as the rest of humanity. Living that long was only bearable if your friends and loved ones were with you to keep you company.

She took a deep breath and grabbed Charley's hand. The two smiled at each other, then kissed. Henceforth, Sarah Connor - now Sarah Dixon - was able to continue with a life that had been interrupted twenty-five years ago. As the shuttle bus set off towards Malibu, Sarah looked back, seeing the Rising Star slowly getting smaller in the distance, and it felt to her is if their history as fugitives began to slowly fade away as well, her memories gradually becoming shadows of a distant past. Or at least that's how she perceived it.

It was true. Even the smallest person could change the course of the future. There was always hope - even for people like them.

There is no fate but what you make.

-0-


EPILOGUE: 3 MONTHS LATER


Friday, August 7, 2009 – 05:16 pm

Chatsworth

Kimberly Jackson became restless in her office at Future Energy Solutions. Running a company, being responsible for over a hundred employees, was sometimes no piece of cake - even for a cyborg.

"Is that all now, Bethany?" she asked, signing a final set of papers. "As you know, I'll be out of town this weekend for the big barbecue at Cliffside House. I'll be seeing a lot of people again that I haven't seen in a long time. I'm going to meet my husband again after eight months. I've missed him so much. If I leave now, I can make it to six o'clock."

"The paperwork's done now, Kim."

"Good. Does that mean I can finally leave?"

"Um… actually, there's a visitor who wants to see you."

Kimberly frowned.

"There's nothing in my schedule about a visitor, certainly not for Friday after hours."

"I know, but… the gentleman insists that he needs to talk to you. He hinted that he might want to invest in the company."

"Oh?" Kimberly sighed. "All right then, send him in."

"Right away."

"And after you sent him in, you can call it a day. There's no reason to keep you here, too."

"Thanks, Kim. Have a nice weekend."

"You too, Bethany."

The young woman walked out of Kimberly's office, only to show a middle-aged man in seconds later. Then she closed the door from outside.

"Miss Kimberly Jackson?" the man asked.

"Yes," she answered and rose from her chair, "who are you?"

"Maybe your knight in shining armor."

"Excuse me?"

He smiled.

"Just a metaphor."

Kimberly sighed and rubbed the root of her nose and sat down again. However, the man remained standing.

"I'm not in the mood for games, Mr…?"

"Bell. Charles Bell."

"It's been a busy day, Mr. Bell, and I'm invited to a barbecue six o'clock."

"I know your time is precious. So I'll get right to the point. I own a venture capital investment firm in Palm Springs. In the last few months, your company has come to my attention. I began to study you. What I've learned so far, amazes me. Your resume is very impressive, your ideas and patents extremely promising, years ahead of their time. Unfortunately, you don't have the money to realize them. And if that doesn't change very quickly, you may have to sell to the more financially powerful competition."

"Go on."

"I also know that you're extremely picky when it comes to investors. For example, you turned down help from your friend Catherine Weaver."

"How do you…? Never mind, it's no secret, I guess. I don't want my research to be misused for military purposes, and unfortunately Catherine is very much involved with the military."

"That's understandable. Because if only half of what my research has shown is true, your company could either revolutionize the future of energy production – or be used to produce new weapons of mass destruction."

"I'm aware of that. And frankly I'd rather go bankrupt than letting my work fall into the hands of the military or people who are only interested in profits."

"I assure you that I represent only investors who expressly want to invest their money only where it won't be used to research new weapons."

Kimberly looked at him for a moment.

"Let's say I was interested. How much money are we talking about?"

"Fifty million in the beginning."

Kimberly raised an eyebrow.

"That's a lot less than what I would actually need to survive the next six months."

"I can also raise ten times that amount and collect even more money if it becomes necessary."

"Under which conditions?"

"No conditions."

"What, just like that?"

"Yes just like that."

"Where's the catch?"

"No catch. However, I reserve the right to be the first to buy a working fusion reactor from you - at a preferential price, of course."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

Bell produced a business card and handed it over to her. Kimberly took and studied it.

"My company is Bell Investments," he said. "You can take your time over the next few days if you want, and do some research on your own. But we both know time is something you don't have too much of anymore."

"I'll consider your offer. And I will take my time to find out about you and your company."

"You're free to do so. You will find that I only represent investors who want to put their money into green technology. Nuclear fusion is the Holy Grail of green technology, the silver bullet for a future without exhaust and pollution. Unlimited energy, no drawbacks and downsides."

Kimberly thought for a moment.

"I will have to sleep over it, Mr. Bell."

"Do that. And please, call me Charles."

She smiled.

"In that case, call me Kimberly. Is it okay if I give you my answer by next week, Charles?"

"Perfectly okay. But don't wait too long. I don't want you to run out of money before I've had a chance to help you."

"All right," Kimberly said, rising from her chair. "I'll be in touch with you."

She stretched out her hand, and he shook it. Both smiled.

"Now I don't want to keep you any longer from your well-deserved weekend. See you later, Kimberly."

"See you later… Charles."

She watched him leave her office and then the building. Jens Jensen entered the room.

"Well?" he asked.

"Looks like everything starts falling into place now."

"He knows about your relationship with Catherine Weaver's doppelganger."

"Yes, of course... But he wouldn't have shown up here if he wasn't sure of himself. He has no suspicions about me, and he feels safe in his new identity."

"It looks like our mole did a good job."

"I never doubted Dorothy."

"What's the next step?"

"Next week - say Tuesday - I'll call him and ask for another meeting. Maybe a business lunch."

"Triple-Eights don't eat."

She smirked.

"I know. But that's how it's done among business partners. It'll be interesting to find out what excuses Ben Bridger – or rather Charles Bell – uses to avoid eating and drinking."

"You don't have any idea about what exactly is going to happen from now on, do you?"

"No… but isn't that exciting? I'm sure it'll be a hell of an adventure."


THE END


This concludes my TSCC fan fiction trilogy. I hope you enjoyed the three books. Special thanks go to all my reviewers, I wouldn't have come this far without your feedback.

Author's notes:

- Some might have noticed that I took my inspiration for the "League of Truth" from the movie Hot Fuzz ;-)

- I'm going to take a break now. In it, I plan to revise "Dawn of a new Era" a bit (but not too much, there won't be any substantial changes) and also finally update my Dropbox folder again, which I've been criminally neglecting for a long time.

- And yes, I'm planning a forth story. Bits and pieces of it already exist in my mind, but I have no idea when I will start on it. I only know that it'll be a new narrative, set about ten years after the end of "Salty Breezes". However, all the protagonists will remain the same, of course, and it'll still be set in the alternate TSCC timeline I created.

- Like always, I'd be very happy about your feedback and your reviews.

- Oh, and before I forget: I had originally planned to end this chapter with that big BBQ at the Cliffside House where everyone meets again, but then decided it would have been too long and drawn out. But maybe I'll add it as a bonus chapter, what do you think?