The Secret Diary of Cameron Baum
MONDAY
Morning. I am in the yard cleaning up after a stormy night. A low pressure weather system over the Pacific brought unusually high winds to Los Angeles in the last few days, blowing loose yard debris into the swimming pool. I use a long handled skimmer to remove the worst of it from the surface of the water and deposit it in a neat little pile on the pool surround. This is not what a TOK 715 terminator was orginally designed for. However, I am nothing if not versatile. You might say I am the swiss army knife of terminators.
"beep boop beep beep boop."
BB-8 joins me in the yard. This is the new improved droid, no longer a simple toy. For once my modifications are a success and BB-8 hasn't tried to terminate anyone, least of all Snowy, who appears to tolerate BB-8's presence much better than he did the Roomba.
"And good morning to you, BB-8."
"beep boop boop boop beep beep?"
"Mia can't play with you because she is at school. If you wish, I will download her schedule for you."
"beep boop."
"You're welcome."
The droid rolls effortlessly along the smooth flagstones, watched intently by Mr Tibbles, the cat next door, who is in his usual spot perched on the fence between properties. I get the impression Mr Tibbles would like to do some serious mischief to BB-8 if the opportunity ever arose. Fortunately Mr Tibbles never sets foot in our yard and BB-8 is forbidden from exploring the street outside. The droid lacks any understanding of traffic safety. Apparently there are no stoplights on Jakku.
"There you are. Take a look at this."
John exits the house and joins me beside the pool.
"Beep boop beep."
"BB-8 is saying good morning," I translate. No one else can understand droid. I don't know why. It seems a very simple language compared to, say, australian. How can sport mean athletic games and a person?
"Oh hey, BB-8." John holds up his phone. "Remember Erik, the kid from Pasadena, lives in his mom's basement?"
"The King of Nerdz?"
"That's him. He sent me a text. Check it out."
I peer at the screen which reads:
have news about our mutual friend. need to talk.
"Who is our mutual friend?"
"Presumably the Wizard."
Ah yes, the Wizard. Aka Sam Clemens, ex-NASA employee turned conspiracy theory nut. Aka Nutty McNutjob from Nutsville, Nuttinghamshire - as John occasionally described him. Although for all his eccentricity and paranoia, Sam Clemens helped prevent Judgement Day. They should give Nutty McNutjob a medal.
"I'll text back. See what this is about."
go ahead. talk.
A few moments later the phone pings with the reply.
not now. need to meet.
John types:
where? when?
The reply comes almost at once.
caltech. tomorrow. noon. come alone.
John types asking for more details but this time the phone stays silent.
"Pretty cryptic. Wonder what he wants?"
I agree it's a conundrum.
"And Stanford University? Guess he's not living in his mom's basement any more."
No. Even a King of Nerdz has to grow up sometime.
BB-8 leaves the pool apron and roll across the grass towards Snowy's doghouse. The droid purposely slams itself against the wooden door once, twice, three times. From inside comes the irritated growl of a dog annoyed at having his early morning nap disturbed.
John says, "BB-8 leave Snowy alone. He'll play with you later."
"beep beep beep boop boop beep!"
Oh dear, that was rude. Luckily John doesn't request a translation. BB-8's language has coarsened somewhat since I included the Urban Dictionary as part of the droid's reprogramming. Droid-speak or not, no one likes a potty mouth.
TUESDAY
"Mom, you mind if we borrow the Harley today?"
Sarah Connor looks up from the kitchen floor where she is kneeling while emptying the washer-drier. "Sure. Mind telling me why?"
"I was thinking of showing Cameron some of my old haunts. You know, a little trip down memory lane."
"That doesn't sound like you."
"What can I say - I'm getting sentimental in my old age."
"You'll know old age one day. And you won't be making jokes about it. Make sure you gas it up before you bring it back."
BB-8 enters the kitchen, beeping and booping softly to itself. Sarah Connor frowns. "What is that thing doing out? Mia's at school. It should in the toybox with all the other toys.
BB-8 takes exception to being called a toy. "beep boop beep boop BEEP!" the droid says indignantly. I suppress a smile. The droid nailed it. Sarah Connor is definitely a BEEP.
-0-
"Why did you lie to your mother?" I ask when John and I are finally alone.
"You know what she's like. If I told her the truth it'd be - ooh, it could be a trap."
"It could be a trap."
"Or - ooh, you might get captured or killed."
"You might get captured or killed."
"Is there an echo in here? Because it seems like you're channeling mom."
"Her caution isn't always unwarranted."
"The kid wants to meet at Caltech, remember. A college campus. There'll be hundreds of people around. If it was a trap he'd say to meet in an abandoned warehouse or down by the docks. That's what they do on TV."
"This isn't TV," I point out. If it was I'd have a bigger wardrobe allowance. And Snowy would poop considerably less.
"My point is, there are easier ways to set us up. And if it makes you feel any better you can bring along the weapon of your choice."
"A guided missile launcher with laser sights?"
"Hand weapon of your choice."
Spoilsport.
-0-
A motorbike journey across town provides the perfect opportunity to wear my new leather jacket. I obtained it during a shopping expedition with Paige Bartlett and her friend Sookie. The asian girl saw it first only to find it too large for her tiny frame. Then Paige spotted it and would've made the purchase had she not already maxxed out her credit card, a common occurence since she is a notorious spendthrift. I had the funds and the figure so the jacket was mine. Humans do very little better than machines but transforming the outer dermal layer of a dead animal into something fashionable to wear is definitely one of them.
Caltech is just twenty-five miles from Santa Monica. We take the 110 east then I-10, covering the distance in less than an hour. John is very skilled at riding the Harley, as he is riding any machine including myself. Oh dear, that was crude. I seem to have picked up BB-8's pottymouth. I hope it isn't contagious.
The Caltech campus covers 124 acres of Pasadena real estate. We circle it twice, alert for any anomalies that might indicate we are walking into a trap. We find none.
John brings the bike to a halt by the campus gates. "Spot anything?" he asks as we remove our helmets and dismount.
"Nothing out of the ordinary."
"Me neither. Almost noon. I'll text him we're here."
We get a reply text instantly.
meet me at the millikan building. by the fountain.
"Yeah, like that's any clearer."
We enter the campus grounds holding hands. In age and looks we appear no different from any of the students milling about, heading to class or just hanging out in the warm sunshine. The only people who notice us at all are females eyeing my leather jacket with envious looks. Step off, bitches, get your own outer dermal layer of a dead animal.
John stops a male student and asks, "Excuse me, the Millikan Building?"
The student points at an impressive glass fronted tower rising out of a leafy grove of trees. John nods his thanks.
"Nice place," John says gazing around. "You realise I'm probably the dumbest guy here."
I squeeze his arm. "I doubt that."
"You kidding me? This is home to the brightest of the bright. I didn't even graduate high school. I bet even the janitors have PHD's."
In front of the Millikan Building is an ornamental lake with a fountain. Under the shade of a nearby oak tree is a student sitting cross-legged and alone.
"Is that Erik?"
"I think so."
"Man, he's grown."
Indeed he has. The King of Nerdz is now a tall young man, effortlessly rocking tan Dockers and a Radiohead tee shirt. He sees us looking at him and waves us over.
"Erik? Almost didn't recognise you, man. You've shot up."
"I thought I said come alone," Erik says petulently giving me the stink eye.
"You remember Cameron, right? She visited your mom's house with me."
"Greetings, your majesty," I say respectfully.
"Is she mocking me?"
"You don't call yourself the King of Nerdz anymore?"
"God, no. I was just a kid back then."
So the King has abdicated. They are prone to do that. Lucky I didn't curtsey, I would have looked foolish doing so to a commoner!
Erik indicates we should sit. We do so, facing each other so we have a full three-sixty view of our surroundings and will be able to spot trouble approaching from any direction.
"So, you go to Caltech now, Erik?"
"Uh huh."
"I bet your mom's proud. Didn't Einstein study here?"
"Not study. He was a visiting Professor back in the early 30s."
"Still, pretty impressive company."
"What I'm going to tell you has to stay between us, agreed? Because we could all go to jail."
"I'm familiar with the concept. Go ahead, what's on your mind."
"Last week I received a message from our mutual friend. First time I'd heard from him in four years."
"You mean-"
"Don't say his name! The CIA have satellites in orbit that can home in on any conversation if a certain key word on a prohibited list is mentioned out loud."
"You're serious?"
"It's all part of a Black Op sanctioned by Cheney when he was vee pee."
"I see you're as paranoid as ever. Still believe we didn't land on the moon?"
"Of course we landed on the moon. That's where the flying saucers are."
"O-kay. You were saying about...our mutual friend. Is he still in Texas?"
"No. Six months ago he was moved to a new high security facility in Nevada. It's designed to hold political dissidents. Ultra modern. Minimal staff. Doesn't use keys or physical locks. Everything is controlled by a computer."
"Then how did he contact you?"
"He's pretending to be a doddery old man so the guards get careless. He's actually the smartest guy in there. Most of the inmates are thugs or fanatics. I mean, he helped write the software for the space shuttle program."
"So what was the message?"
"A piece of code. A backdoor. To the central computer controlling the whole place. Once I had that I hacked the mainframe."
"You hacked a prison?"
"It wasn't that difficult. Two days ago I shut down the laundry wing to make sure it worked."
"And what happened?"
"Let's just they'll have to wait awhile for clean underwear."
"Okay, very impressive. Gold star, and all that. What's this got to do with us?"
"Our mutual friend wants out. I've got a plan but I need help. He suggested you."
"Why us?"
"He said you owe him. It's because of you he's gotta spend the rest of his life behind bars."
"Not quite true. I think having a house full of classified top secret documents was probably as much to blame."
"They tortured him for information on you."
John says nothing. His jaw tightens slightly and he looks off in the far distance. "Who tortured him?" he asks softly.
"Some army jagoff called Ryan. Colonel John Ryan. All he wanted was information on you. And her."
"Yeah, we know Ryan. He's a sonofabitch."
"So you'll help me?"
"Let's hear the plan first."
Erik takes a map from his pants pocket and spreads it flat on the grass. "This is a map of Nevada. The prison's here in the middle of nowhere. There's a five mile access road from the main highway. Cameras everywhere. They know you're coming long before you get there."
"What about suppliers? They must need food delivered."
"They use specially vetted companies. All the employees have biometric tags. Fingerprints, iris, 3D scans. The whole works."
"Stowaway on the truck?"
"Infra red scanner. It's not the way to do it."
"And what is?"
"I can lockdown the prison. Keep everyone inside. No way out. Glass is armored they can't smash it."
"Suppose they reboot the computer? Turn it off and on again."
"Please. I'm smarter than that."
"They'll call for help."
"Land line will be blocked. The only problem is a cell tower twelve miles away. It's actually used by a town called Scanton. It's been beefed up to include the prison. I guess the guards need it so they can play Minecraft or text their wives on their cell phones."
"Okay, so we'd need to neutralise the tower. How do we get our mutual friend out if the place is in lockdown?"
"His cell is on the second floor. It's a single because of his age. We'll need a short ladder and something to break the window."
"Shaped charge would do it."
"Then we drive back to the highway and hide out in Scanton until the fuss dies down."
"How big is Scanton?"
"Population ten thousand."
"Too small. The cops could go door to door in a day. Better to head straight for the Interstate. How far's that?"
"From the prison? Fifty miles."
John stares at the map then shakes his head. "Won't work."
"Why not?"
"Crash the cell tower, drive to the prison, bust him out, drive back to the highway and on to the Interstate. Take at least an hour, maybe two. That's too long for a place like that to be off the grid. People will notice. And if we're caught on the access road we'd have to fight our way out." John turns to me. "What d'you think?"
"I put the chances of success at less then five percent."
"Lousy odds. And there's another thing - where is our mutual friend going to go if we bust him out? He can't stay with us. And he's a little long in the tooth to enrol at Caltech with you."
"He told me he has a cabin in the woods. Bought it years ago. It's a survivalist thing."
"Okay. What's he do for money?"
"He told me that won't be a problem."
"And you believe him?"
"I do. This man's a legend in the conspiracy community. So...will you help me or not?"
"Your plan gets us all killed or captured." John again stares at the map and seems to decide something. "Let think about it. See if I can't come up with something better."
"Company," I warn. Coming towards us across the grass is a young woman, slim build, dark hair, espadrilles.
"I know her," Erik admits. "Name's Judy. We attend the same lectures.""
Judy stops near us, smiles and says, "Hey, Erik. Am I interrupting something?"
"N...No. These are...are..."
"Name's Cletus," John says in an exaggerated southern accent. "Erik's cousin from the Kentucky branch of the family. This here's ma galfriend, Cindy-Lou."
Cindy-Lou? Do I look like a Cindy-Lou? I'll have to wear more gingham.
"We're mighty proud of cuz back in Kentucky. First member of the family to go to yoo-nee-versity."
"Oh. Pleased to meet you."
"Likewise, ah'm sure."
"Erik, a bunch of us are going to that new Tex-Mex place tonight. I wondered if you'd like to come with?"
Erik's face reddens. "Uh...no...I...no."
"No? Oh. Okay. Catch you later."
As Judy walks away John remarks, "Pretty girl."
"I guess."
"You like her?"
"Uh...I guess."
"You realise she just asked you on a date?"
"What? No, she said a bunch of us."
"For a smart kid you're pretty dumb. You like her or not?"
Erik nods his head miserably.
"Hey, Judy!" John shouts in his normal voice. "Erik changed his mind. He'd love to go."
Judy smiles and offers a thumbs up.
"Oh God, what have you done!" Erik buries his face in his hands. "I can't talk to girls! My face goes red and I stutter."
"Maybe it would help if you imagine they're girl-shaped machines with a computer for a brain."
"You mean like a cyborg?"
"Works for me."
-0-
WEDNESDAY
True to his word John works on improving Erik's plan, all without telling his mother what is going on. He holes up in the games room, spreading a map of Nevada over the pool table. Occasionally he will pause and look up information on a computer, then it is right back to the map. He stands leaning forward, palms resting on the baize, head down, lost in concentration. This is a near identical posture to his future self, poring over situation reports in numerous Resistance bunkers all over California, studying troop deployments and front line status reports while all around aides come and go with updates from the various theaters of war. Here in the present the only distraction is Snowy and BB-8 playfully chasing each other from room to room, until Sarah Connor trips over one of them and shoves BB-8 into a toybox and locks the lid. Kylo Ren could learn a thing or two from her.
"Finally, John looks up, stretches, and says, "I've found a way to make it work."
"How?"
"It'll need more than three people. Four at the very least."
"I'm sure Cameron subprime will be delighted to help."
"We do everything simultaneously, splitting ourselves into three teams. Call them red, white and blue."
"Very patriotic."
"White team takes down the cell tower. Red team go overland to this ridge, which is less than a mile from the prison, and after the lockdown bust the old man free. Blue team comes up the access road in a fast getaway car and meets us there. We rendezvous with White team at the highway and transfer to their vehicle, something inconspicuous that'll hold five people. Head for the Interstate. Maybe thirty minutes total beginning to end."
"Or I could steal a helicopter gunship, fly it over the prison and let rip with the cannons like it's the fourth of July."
This is called speaking without thinking and is not helping matters, as John explains to me at some length. If the house had a naughty step I would be sat on it.
-0-
FRIDAY
With the first tentative steps made towards springing the Wizard from captivity, the next thing to do is contact Cameron subprime in Seattle and bring her up to speed.
I open my MacBook and select FaceTime.Instead of Cameron subprime Daniel Lieberman appears on the screen. He is barechested and perspiring freely. "Hey, Cameron. How you doing?"
"Daniel. Where is Cameron subprime?"
"You mean Jan? She's helping Frank the super with something. She should be back soon."
"What are you doing in her apartment?"
"Working out. We installed a gym in her spare room. She said I needed to muscle up. Going pretty good. I can bench two-fifty now and I don't get out of breath so much. Hey - is John around?"
"Other room."
"Can you go get him. Say I'd like a word."
A few moments later I return with John, who sits in the chair facing the screen.
"Hey, man, what's going on?"
"Guess what I'm doing."
"Something stupid, no doubt."
"I'm in Jan's bedroom, pumping away."
"Is that right?"
"Yep. Me and her pumping away. We do it at least three times a week."
"Pleased to hear it. Weight training is a great way to stay in shape."
"Oh. Cameron told you."
"Yeah. Nice try though. How's Jan fitting in?"
"Pretty good. All the old biddies love her. They keep baking cakes and stuff to try and fatten her up. And she keeps right on flushing them down the toilet."
"That's what I call cutting out the middle man," John quips, as I knew he would.
"Vey droll. Hey - I heard the door go. I think she's here."
Cameron subprime appears. "John. Cameron prime. How good to see you both."
"And you. I hear you're pretty popular with the olds?"
"Yes. It hasn't been difficult to ingratiate myself with their age group. A working knowledge of how to play Bridge and Mahjong plus the capacity to listen to endless complaints about their declining physical status is all that is required. Oh, and an appreciation of the TV show Matlock."
"How'd it go with Frank the super?" Daniel asks.
"Very well. We have installed a new door to the roof. Solid steel with a built in fingerprint scanner. Frank said it reminds him of something from Mission Impossible, which I believe is also a TV show from the 70s. The scanner will keep the Randall twins from urinating over the parapet. As well as being unsanitary, several residents were threatening to call the police. Apparently piss showers aren't popular in Seattle."
"They're not popular anywhere," John points out. "Anyway, the reason we're calling is we need your help."
John explains about Erik, ex-King of Nerdz, and the plan to spring the Wizard from jail.
"Of course I will help you. When do you require my presence?"
"We're going to do the jailbreak Thursday. Mia's off to Washington for a school trip. She'll be gone two nights. Seems like a good oppurtunity. And there's no point in waiting."
"Wait a second," Daniel interrupts. "You're gonna break someone out of jail?"
"Old ally of ours."
"Can I come?"
"I don't know, man, this is pretty dangerous stuff."
"I've been practicing with handguns. Jan, tell them."
"It's true he is adequate with a pistol at short distances. Although at longer distances he has a tendency to jerk off."
"She means my hands jerk when the gun goes off," Daniel explains hurriedly. "Not...you know."
"Okay, I guess you're in. Sure you can get the time off work?"
"No problem. I'll say Lulu's unwell."
"They give you time off to look after your dog?"
"Actually, it's possible they think Lulu is my daughter."
"And you didn't set them straight?"
"Why ruin a sweet deal?"
"Well, that's sorted," John says as the screen goes blank. "Now comes the hardest part of all."
"Breaking the Wizard out of jail?"
"Nope. Telling mom what we're up to."
-0-
I'm sure you're all scratching your heads thinking - who the heck are Erik, King of Nerdz and the Wizard?
Erik first appeared in chapter 54.
The Wizard aka Sam Clemens aka Nutty McNutjob from Nutsville, Nuttinghamshire, first appeared in chapter 70, the HunterKiller sequence.
Sarah Connor's a BEEP? I think she's more of a BOOP.
BB-8, the pottymouth droid, coming soon from Hasbro. Or not.
This is part one of probably five.