chapter 9
The Secret Diary of Cameron Baum
nb. In chapter 5 Cameron made 'improvements' to a toy roboraptor as part of a school science project. It ran amok. John ordered it destroyed but Cam didn't comply. Here are the consequences...
MONDAY
"Why isn't there more blood? Look at me, I'm bleeding like a stuck pig."
"Some people bleed more than others," Judy replys. "Though it's very unusual for there to be no blood at all. Are you sure you're not anaemic, honey?"
"No," I assure her. "I am not anaemic."
"Are you positive, hon? You're wearing fingerless mittens and it's eighty degrees outside. Feeling cold is a sign of poor circulation."
"I am not cold."
"She always wears those fingerless mittens," Becca chimes in. "Drives me crazy. I mean, BoHo chic was, like, so last year. But it's her thing - right, Cam?"
"It's my thing," I agree.
I am lying on my back with my torso exposed in a beauty parlor on Sunset Strip. Becca Shaughnessy and I are getting our belly-button's pierced. This is Becca's idea. It usually is.
"Does it hurt, Cam? At least tell me it hurts, 'cause my stings like an SOB."
"I feel no pain," I answer truthfully. "Not even an SOB."
"Some people have an higher pain threshold than others."
"Meaning I'm a total wuss?"
Judy shrugs. "People are just different, that's all."
Judy is a human female in her mid-forties. She has numerous piercings and visible metal adornments - ears, cheek, nose, lips, tongue - and some hidden beneath her clothing that only my mass proximity sensors can detect. Dark ink tattoos cover her arms above the white latex gloves she is wearing. Her hair is short and an artificial blue colour. She smiles down at me as she withdraws the silvery needle used to pierce my dermal layer.
"You have beautiful skin, honey. And such firm abs. Like steel. Do you work out?"
"No."
"Well, then you're truly blessed."
"Yeah, yeah, Cameron's gorgeous, she's totally fit, yadayada. Give it a rest already." Becca says, rolling her eyes.
"Feeling unappreciated, hon?"
"Story of my life."
My outer dermal layer was grown in a Skynet vat, while the body template Judy so admires is modeled on the human resistance fighter, Alison Young. I was designed to infiltrate Resistance strongholds using her likeness and ultimately terminate John Connor. I wonder if Alison would appreciate these compliments? It is hard to say. I terminated Alison. She is dead now. Or still to be born. It depends on your point of view.
"Are you sure it's meant to hurt this much?" Becca complains. "Haven't you got any Demoral? I'd settle for a couple of seconals. Or a slug of vodka."
"Sorry, hon, we're not allowed to administer drugs. And I'll pretend I didn't hear that about alcohol. But if you think that's painful you should try getting your tongue pierced. I couldn't sleep or eat solids for weeks."
"Oh well, I guess it'll be worth it when we show the others at school."
Judy looks round sharply. "School? You told me you're both over eighteen. I don't need the police revoking my license."
"Ah - we are over eighteen," Becca lies hastily. "College. I meant college. Show the others at college."
Judy bends over me to fit the mettallic hoop with small pearl threaded into my belly-button, that last human vestige of childbirth. In my case it is a facsimile.
"That's strange..."
"What's wrong?"
"I only just pierced your friend but it seems like the wound's healing over already. I've never seen anything like it. Wait...almost there... Got it. You okay, hon? Perhaps the needle was a bad batch. I didn't hurt you?"
"No."
"Mine's still bleeding. Are you sure it's okay?"
"You'll be fine. Keep it clean. If it keeps hurting rub some anti-septic cream on it. If it starts leaking pus I'd call a medic as you might have blood poisoning."
"Blood poisoning? Pus? You didn't say anything about pus when we came in."
"Well, it's hardly the best advertisement. I've a business to run."
I stand upright. Becca peers at my torso. "You look really cool. Like one of the Pussycat Dolls - the pretty one, not the slutty ho's in the background."
"Can I interest you girls in anything else?" Judy asks. "How about a nose stud? Or something more intimate - down below? Surprise those boyfriends."
"Ew! Gross! No, we're good, thanks. Say, do you get any famous people in here? I saw a picture of Tommy Lee in the window."
"Sure do. Trent Rezner was in here the other day. I guess he's before your time?"
"No, I've heard of him. He's cool."
"Tommy Lee's a regular. A real gent. And Pink was in just last week."
"Pink's cool. How about the Lohan?"
"No. Not seen her. Why, you a fan, hon?"
"Sure, she's like the patron saint of red heads everywhere."
"I saw in People magazine she's blonde now."
"She'll go back. It never lasts. It's in the genes. You can run but you can't hide."
Judy laughs. "You're a pretty girl. Don't put yourself down. You have lovely alabaster skin."
"Yeah, so has a cadaver."
"You should celebrate who you are, not who you'd like to be."
"Said the woman with blue hair."
"Just be happy in your own skin."
"I guess. I just wish my skin didn't have so many freckles."
"How will you be paying - cash or plastic?"
"Cash." Becca unfolds a roll of hundreds, the roulette money we won in Vegas, and peels off two notes. "Keep the change."
"Is that your vehicle outside?" Judy points through the street window. "Because it looks like you're about to get a ticket."
Outside, a squat black women in uniform is pinning a ticket to the Ferrari we arrived in.
"Screw it," Becca shrugs. "I'd sooner pay the fine and park wherever the hell I like."
"Must be nice to be rich enough to have that attitude."
"Yeah, it is." Becca grins. "It really is."
MULHOLLAND
With Becca driving we leave Sunset Strip and head up Mulholland. It is a long winding road with steep bends and views of the city below. Becca likes to drive the Ferrari here and through Bel Air and Beverly Hills; she says it makes her feel like a movie star. She likes to occasionally pretend she is something she is not. With me it is a full time job.
"I'm still bleeding a little," she whines, dabbing her wound with a tissue. "You don't suppose I'm one of those freaks who can't stop bleeding?"
"A haemophiliac."
"Yeah. Those. I mean, what a horrible way to die."
"The human body holds eight pints of blood. At your current flowrate it will take considerable time before you perish."
"Gee, thanks for the tea and sympathy, Doctor Mengele."
We approach a sharp curve in the road. Becca changes down a gear and steers toward the apex. The Ferrari's rear wheels lose traction as the balance shifts, the back end sliding out, but she skilfully controls the skid with opposite lock.
"Your driving has improved," I inform her.
"Thanks. I'm no Danica P but I do my best. I love this car. And my IPod. And my MacBook. I think I prefer machines to people. Is that too weird?"
I assure her it is not too weird. I once felt the same way.
I turn my attention to our surroundings. After Judgement Day the whole Mulholland area becomes a rebel enclave; the terrain, the shattered houses and trees offering shelter to resistance fighters. They use the high vantage point to good effect, launching SAM missiles at HKs operating in the valley below. I find myself scanning the shadows for rebel troops to terminate. Force of habit. There is no one there. For now.
"What are you looking for?" Becca asks.
"Nothing. Not yet."
"If you're rubbernecking for celebs wait until we hit Bel Air. Remember how we saw Madonna? Man, I was so excited."
I nod, recalling a middle-aged woman with brittle hair. My excitement was non existent.
"Wanna come back to my place and hang? We could order in - Chinese, Thai, pizza?"
"No. John is expecting me back."
"It's been ages since we hung out," she pouts. "Mr Babbykins is pining for you. His fur's falling out. And he keeps leaving dead mice on my bedroom floor. He never did that before he met you."
"Another time."
"I'm gonna head over to Encino. I found a store that accepts fake IDs no questions asked. Finally, right? I mean, what's this country coming to if an underage girl can't use a fake ID to buy illegal liquor? We might as well be living in Russia."
HOME
Becca drops me a block from the safe house. I have told her that Mom - Sarah Connor - disapproves of our friendship so I cannot invite her home or she will stop me seeing her. This was John's idea to stop Becca getting too close and putting herself in danger. Such is her lack of self-worth that she believes me without question. The menta human weaknesses are often easier to exploit than physical ones.
John meets me at the door. "Get inside. Now. We need to talk."
"What's wrong?"
Does John disapprove of my piercing? But he barely glanced at me.
"Sit down." John points at the couch. I sit.
"I recorded this from the local news broadcast. I don't think it's gone national. Yet."
He picks up the remote to the VCR. The TV comes on. A woman appears on screen. Big teeth. Blonde, Riley-like hair.. She speaks into a handheld microphone. The caption reads 'Bonnie Bartlett. Channel 9 News'.
"Just when you think LA can't get any weirder, I'm here in downtown Burbank with a Mister John Hicks who claims to have had two fingers bitten clean off by a children's toy."
Bonnie holds up a child's toy.
A roboraptor.
John says, "Look familiar? Wait. It gets better."
"Mister Hicks' son, Benjamin, found an abandoned toy roboraptor similar to this one while out playing with his friends. He brought it home and things started to get very strange indeed. Mister Hicks, what happened then?"
The camera shifts to include a dark haired man who has one hand encased in a white bandage.
"Well, the thing was kinda dirty but it seemed intact. There was a wire loose. I fixed that easy enough. Then I went to find some batteries. I thought it might make a nice toy for my son, y'know? Money's been tight since I lost my job at the printers. When I got back the darn thing was racing round the room, yapping like a hound dog from hell."
"And you tried to pick it up, correct?"
"S'right. And it bit two of my fingers clean off for my trouble."
"It literally attacked you?"
"Yup. Came at me like a wild beast. If it wasn't fer my wife, Jolene, wrapping the fingers in ice and driving me to the hospital, I don't know what would've happened. Eaten me whole most likely."
"And the doctors managed to sew your fingers back on?"
"That's right."
"And what happened to the roboraptor?"
"We left it locked in this room. When we got home it was gone. The window was broken."
"Someone broke in and stole it?"
"Nope. The window was broken from the inside. Darn thing must've broke it escaping. Good riddance, I say."
Bonnie turns to the camera, her face and hair filling the entire screen.
"So there you have it. Is a carniverous toy dinosaur with a taste for human blood on the loose here in Los Angeles? Or is just a shaggy dog story? A shaggy dinosaur story, perhaps. This is Bonnie Bartlett. For Channel 9 news."
John pauses the VCR and sits facing me.
"Your science project. You didn't destroy it like I ordered."
"No."
"And now it's on the loose. What's it going to do? Come after us? After Derek?"
"It is likely it will attempt to acquire its last target. The RAM memory will still be intact."
"That guy - Hicks?"
"No. Louise."
"How will it find her? We're miles from Burbank."
"I incorporated cell phone components. It can backtrack its position via the cell network."
"Where will it go? The river?"
"No. The place it first encountered Louise."
"School."
"Correct. It is the most likely scenario."
Derek Reese enters the room. His hair and singlet are wet. He has been jogging. And sweating. The two seem to go together where he is concerned. John hastily switches off the VCR.
"Watching something juicy?" Derek Reese leers. "Hey, don't stop on my account."
"You remember that science project of Cameron's from a while back?"
"That yappy dog critter? Sure. Damn near took a chunk outta my leg. Why?"
"It's loose again. If it turns up here destroy it."
"My pleasure. Anything I need to know?"
"That's about it."
"Need any help?"
"No, we can handle it, thanks."
"I'm guessing you want this kept off your mom's radar?"
"Yeah. Keep it on the downlow."
"No problem." Derek Reese stares directly at me. "And watch your back, kid. Don't trust her to always do it for you."
"I'll be fine."
Derek Reese nods and leaves the room.
I say, "He doesn't trust me."
"Can you blame him."
TUESDAY
John and I sit side by side in the jeep. We are in the school parking lot, the first to arrive. Gradually the lot fills up with vehicles as students arrive for lessons. We are keeping watch for Louise. So far she is a no show.
"Red sportscar, right?"
"Correct."
The yellow school bus pulls up, disgorging students who don't have cars. John watches them carefully. I don't. Louise is not the type of girl to ride public transport, this much I know.
"There's your pal, Becca."
Becca Shaughnessy arrives in her Ferrari. She doesn't spot us. Several boys stare at the sleek lines of the Ferrari but ignore her. She hurries in, clasping her books tightly and with her head bowed down. I recognise the signs: hangover.
"Quite some wheels for a sixteen year old. Her parents rich?"
"She came into some money recently."
"Lucky her."
"Yes, lucky her."
Riley arrives. John says nothing.
"There's Riley," I point out.
"Uh huh."
"She looks totally doable."
John turns to face me. "What's that mean?"
"I don't know," I confess. "It's a phrase I overheard."
"Make sure you know what something means before you say it."
"What does it mean?"
John ignores me.
"Am I doable?"
"At the moment you're annoying."
"Annoying but doable?"
No reply.
"I don't like Riley."
John continues to stare through the windshield. "I'm not asking you to like Riley."
"She's not good for you."
"It's probably the other way round. And you're starting to sound like mom again."
"Do you think it's odd?"
"That you sound like mom?"
"That Riley inserted herself into your life."
"She didn't 'insert' herself into anything."
"She hooked up with you. And you went along with it."
"There's more to it than that."
"Have you visited Riley's home? Met her parents?"
"No."
"Do you think that's odd?"
"Compared to what? A terminator travelling back through time to protect me? Sent by my future self?"
"Yes."
John laughs and shakes his head.
"I would've been your Riley," I point out. "If Cromartie hadn't intervened."
"That was the plan, huh?"
"Yes, that was the plan."
John nods. We both stare forward, silent lot is almost full.
Finally Louise's distinctive red sportscar drives up. She hops out and sashays into the building with her peculiar hip-swaying walk. She does not look like a girl being pursued by a lethal toy dinosaur, but then very few girls do.
Inside the school the bell rings for class. John says, "Come on. We're gonna be late."
I do a last scan of the lot. No roboraptor. It has not reacquired its target.
Yet.
RECESS
John had two morning lessons with Louise, so was able to keep her under close observation. Now at recess she heads into the girls restroom with her two best friends, Alexis and Hayley. It is my turn.
Entering the restroom I spot Alexis and Hayley at the sinks, staring at themselves in the mirror and reapplying make up. There is no sign of Louise.
"Where is Louise?" I ask.
"What's it to you, weirdo?" Alexis demands.
"Where is Louise?" I repeat.
Hayley nods toward the cubicles. "Paying for lunch, if you know what I mean. She had a double bagel with cream cheese, the greedy pig. And you know what they say - what goes down must come up."
Hayley and Alexis dissolve into giggles. From the closed cubicle comes the sound of retching.
"God, Hayles, that's so funny! What goes down must come up!"
"Shush, Queen bitch'll hear us!"
"Not if she's barfing."
Louise emerges from the cubicle. "Breath mint," she demands. "One of you. Now!"
Hayley hands over a small lozenge which Louise pops into her mouth. She notices me. "What do you want, freakshow? If you've come to beg for your place back on the squad, forget it. That ship has sailed."
I conduct a full optical scan from head to toe. She has not sustained damage.
"What's she doing now?" Hayley whispers.
"Ah, Lou, I think she's checking you out. Yeah, she's totally gone KD on your ass."
"Let's get out of here."
"Y'know, I've always thought you give off a mannish vibe."
"Oh really, Lex? Remind me again who it was needed electroylosis for her hairy toes?"
"You promised you wouldn't tell!"
"Omigod - Lex! Is this why you wear boots? Show me, show me!"
"There's nothing to see! Shut up."
"How hairy are we talking here?"
"Shut up!"
"Hobbit feet or the full Chewbacca?"
"I said shut up!"
END OF SCHOOL
John and I watch from the jeep as the exodus of students gets underway. Louise is among the last to emerge. She is flanked by Alexis and Hayley. They chat briefly then go their separate ways. Louise gets into her red sportscar, turns on the radio and starts the engine. She leaves the lot without looking back.
"Kanye West."
John looks over at me. "What?"
"She is listening to Kanye West."
"I'll take your word for it."
We follow, keeping five car lengths behind. There is no sign of the roboraptor.
"Louise lives in Brentwood," John informs me. "I asked around. Father's a high-up at Lockheed. Mother died a couple of years ago. Older sister at college. Younger brother."
Louise leaves the turnpike at the next exit. We do likewise.
"Looks like she's heading home. Good. No tracking her through a mall. Or to a boyfriend's house."
We turn onto a wide street lined with mature trees. The homes here are spaced far apart and protected by brick walls and steel railings. Louise brakes, steers through an open gateway, and parks in front of one of the houses. The gate swings closed automatically.
"Nice area."
"Yes," I agree. "High walls. Strong gates. Good defensive perimeters. We should move here."
"These houses cost a minimum two, maybe three million apiece. And no rentals. Out of our price range."
"We should rob a bank."
"Rob a bank? You're serious?"
"Banks have money. Then we could afford to live here. Or move to Canada. That would be my preferred option."
"We're not robbing a bank. Aren't we outlaws enough?"
"We could still move to Canada."
John glances across. "What is it with you and Canada?"
"Canada has the lowest crime rate in North America. It has free healthcare. Mount Logan is the tallest mountain. It is 5,950 meters high."
"Judgement Day's not like the Vietnam war. I can't just cross the border and hide behind some mountain while machines take over the world. That's not an option."
"John Connor stands and fights."
"Don't. Please. Don't do that."
"What?"
"Refer to me in the third person. You and Derek both do it. I'm not that man. John Connor, resistance leader, and all the rest. I'm barely scraping my high school diploma."
"But you will be that man," I insist. "It is your destiny."
"Yeah, well, too bad destiny doesn't come with a set of instructions."
"Perhaps in the future they will build a statue in your honour. Abraham Lincoln has a statue. It is freaking big. Lincoln freed the slaves but John Connor frees mankind from the machines. Your statue should be bigger."
John's lips twitch. "Freaking bigger?"
I nod. "Freaking bigger. And made of gold."
John shakes his head, smiling. "You really believe in me, don't you?"
"I know what you are capable of."
"I must reprogram you well. In the future."
"Not everything is about the future." I slide my hand across, reaching for John's, but he moves away at the last instant.
"Nothing's happening here. She's safely home. Let's go."
John engages drive and glances in the rearview mirror.
"Sonofabitch..."
Behind us the roboraptor stands in the middle of the road.
"Hang on!"
John slams the jeep into reverse and we career backwards, smoke from the tires obscuring the view.
CRUMP!
We hit the vehicle behind us. The jeep stalls. A man emerges from the vehicle we hit and walks toward us.
"Did we hit it?" John asks.
"No."
"See where it went?"
"Negative."
"Dammit!"
The starter motor whines but the engine is dormant. It is possible it was damaged by the impact. Someone knocks my window. I roll it down. It is the man whose vehicle we struck.
"What the hell? You people just crashed right into me. Look at it. That's a ninety-grand Mercedes. I just bought it today.
I turn and look. The vehicle's hood is crumpled and bent. Smoke is coming from the engine bay.
"It is broken," I inform him. "You should ask for a refund."
John gets the engine to start and we move away.
"Hey! Where d'you think you're going? Oh no you don't, you're staying here until the police arrive!"
The man lunges through the open window and attempts to wrest the key from the dash. I grab his throat and hoist him upwards. His head slams against the roof. His hair detaches from his head and falls on my lap.
Curious...
John notices our new passenger. "Cam, he's turning blue. Lose him."
I thrust him out the window. He hits the asphalt hard, rolls several times then lies flat. He is no longer a threat. I lose interest.
"What's that?" John points at my lap.
"He forgot his hair."
John takes a right then another right then a left. He slows and strikes the wheel with his palms. There is anger in his voice.
"It followed us here. We led it right to Louise. Now it knows where she lives."
"We made a strategic error."
"What happens now?"
"It'll be back."
to be continued...
-000-
This is a long one so I split it into two parts. Second follows soon.