Chapter Eight
Chihuahua, Mexico
Thursday 0125 Local Time [0025 PST]
Ronin and his group were not the only ones around to hear the muzzle flashes and short bursts of gunfire. Perched atop a rocky plateau approximately half a mile north-east from the airfield's perimeter, Miguel watched the brief fight unfold between his former T-888 comrades and the liquid metal terminator.
He watched silently and did nothing as the one-sided struggle ensued. He glanced to the east to see more machines sprinting towards the facility's entrance, overwhelming the guards on duty at the gate with only a brief exchange of fire. He noticed blue-white pulses flash from one of the machines, illuminating the air around it as the shots glowed on their trajectory and blasted through concrete, shattering one wall and setting fire to the inside. Miguel heard the screams from the guards, lasting only seconds before they were all silenced. He recognised the flashes for what they were: plasma fire. He knew of only one machine equipped with plasma weaponry: Ronin. He'd come to the right place.
Miguel knew better than to intervene; such an action would simply result in his failure and destruction, which wouldn't serve Skynet best. Instead he watched. He had no weapons with him; the only equipment on his person was a high performance digital camera, designed to take long-distance photographs at night, without the aid of a flash. He'd already taken several photos of Ronin and his machines. In daylight he would take more, to try and find out – and build evidence of – what they were doing.
He'd already made some observations: Ronin's group had no antiaircraft weaponry nor any heavy weapons to speak of, except for what was inside the airfield's armoury. If they did they would have used them and not required the T-1001's stealth infiltration. He didn't know how long Ronin's group had been observing Kaliba's factory, but he hypothesised that Ronin's main concern was the HK prototypes inside; he may not have known if they were armed, nor whether or not they could quickly respond to an outside attack, but he'd assume the worst and plan accordingly, as Miguel himself would have.
Miguel knew the current progress of the HKs and that the T-888s and mercenaries inside would have had to defend the base for at least thirty minutes before the HKs could take off and present a threat, but Ronin, whatever he was, was clearly cautious. Which meant he wasn't invulnerable; he and the others – the T-1001 notwithstanding – were wary of the antitank missiles the HKs were being tested to fire.
Unfortunately, those very weapons were now in Ronin's possession. Vassily's strike team would be obliterated. Because he had been deemed hostile, any attempt to warn them would either be ignored or they would target him instead. Despite the severity of the situation, Miguel felt vindicated. Ronin's actions had simply validated everything he'd previously said. He hoped that Skynet would learn from it before it was too late.
Chihuahua, Mexico
Thursday 0135 Local Time [0035 PST]
Ronin marched through the complex, Caesar to his left while the others searched the base for any humans or T-888s they'd missed. They approached the hangar and Caesar slid the giant door open, snapping the lock with ease and pushing the barrier along on its rollers to reveal the cavernous interior of the hangar.
The two cyborgs entered and scanned their surroundings, searching for any sign of movement, anyone who had hidden inside when they'd attacked. There was nothing. The HKs rested on pedestals in the middle of the hangar and Ronin saw that they'd been wrong: there were three prototypes, not two. They were six metres in length and bore a striking resemblance to Skynet's ground attack aircraft in the future. One of the drones was currently armed; attached to a missile rail underneath its fuselage were three small rockets, each stencilled with Cyrillic script. Neither Ronin nor Caesar understood it but they knew where it had likely come from.
"Kaliba's operating in Eastern Europe," Caesar observed. "They're bigger than we thought." Skynet had kept its origins a secret even from Ronin, and before they'd come back to this time they'd spent a lot of time and resources trying to learn about its genesis. They hadn't found much; most records – being kept online or on computer databases – had been lost in the war, although both Caesar and Ronin knew it was far more likely Skynet deleted all traces of its own past to prevent anyone from doing what they were attempting.
"The humans might know where," Ronin said. "Even if they don't, the T-888s will. If the plane on the runway is operational, Eastern Europe will be our next target."
Unlike the first HK, the other two were completely unarmed. One had a pair of empty missile rails, and behind it were racks of short-range air to air missiles. The second one was equipped with a chain gun a third the length of the aircraft itself, slung underneath its fuselage, not loaded but with crates of ammunition piled up neatly against the wall behind it. Ronin saw from the crates that the gun fired 20mm rounds; those would have obliterated his group if it had been ready and mobilized against them. He realised how much of a threat Kaliba could pose, especially if they had more of these aircraft elsewhere.
"Ronin." Shirley entered the hangar behind them and approached their leader. "Two more T-888s were disabled and their CPUs removed – totalling five. Carter and Talus are guarding thirty human prisoners and awaiting your order to execute them."
"Not yet," Ronin replied. "You did well," he said to Shirley. Without her they might not have been able to take the base without any losses.
"It was easy," she said, acid in her tone. "Much easier than confronting the real threat: Connor and his Vanguards."
Caesar said nothing and just watched as the T-1001 glared up at Ronin.
"They will be dealt with," Ronin said simply, turning his attention back to the HKs. "Kaliba is our main priority now."
Ronin turned around and exited the hangar. Caesar and Shirley followed behind him and the trio crossed the base towards one of the accommodation blocks. As they approached he saw Carter and Talus through the windows, their weapons trained downwards. As he entered through the doorway he saw that they had the humans on their stomachs, hands behind their heads, lying in two rows facing each other. Having been asleep before the attack, none of them were properly dressed. Most of them were in their underwear; two men and a woman were completely naked.
"Get up," Ronin commanded them. Slowly, nervously, the first of them rose to their feet, watching their captors with suspicious eyes.
"Who are you?" one of the females asked. This one seemed braver than the others.
"I'm Ronin," he volunteered freely. "We attacked the coltan retrieval team in Depot 37 at McGuire Gunnery Range, we eliminated Kaliba's team at Pelican Bay, and we ambushed your strike team at ZeiraCorp in Los Angeles."
"What… what are you talking about?" she stared at him. "I'm just here to work on the drones. That's all any of us are here for."
"Irrelevant," Ronin said, pointing at the door. "Move."
He, Caesar, Shirley, Talus and Carter marched the prisoners out of the accommodation.
"Form a line," Shirley ordered them. The men and women shuffled into a single line, standing bunched together along the length of the outside of their accommodation block. She turned her head all the way around – to the shock of their prisoners – to face Ronin. "I'll interrogate them," she said, her fingers turning silver, growing longer and merging into a single razor-sharp appendage. "They'll tell us what we want to know."
Ronin disagreed. "I doubt it," he said. "Kaliba will be operating on a need-to-know basis; they don't need to know."
"Then they're useless." Shirley's head turned around again. "Kill them," she ordered Talus and Carter, ignoring the pleas of their soon to be victims. The two T-888s raised their weapons and aimed at chest level, but hesitated, waiting for Ronin's order.
"Hold your fire," Ronin said, countermanding his subordinate.
Shirley whirled around to face her commander, not believing what he had said. "They're our enemy as much as Skynet," she said.
Ignoring her, Ronin stepped forward and placed one hand on Talus' rifle, pushing the barrel towards the ground. Carter lowered his own weapon, not understanding what was going on but trusting Ronin's judgement. He was in charge, not Shirley, and after what he'd witnessed in Oregon he wasn't going to do anything she said unless the more-stable Ronin agreed.
Ronin took another step towards the assembled humans and addressed the woman who'd spoken up moments ago. "You," Ronin said, looking down at her. "What is your role here?"
"I… I'm an avionics technician," she answered nervously.
Ronin randomly picked another human; a tall male this time. "What do you do?" he questioned him.
"I remote-fly the drones," he said. "When they're not being controlled by the AI."
"You?" Ronin asked another man.
"Mechanical engineer," he answered.
Ronin looked at Shirley. "Do you know how to maintain the HKs?" he asked. "Fuel, arm or pilot them?"
"No."
"Then why waste skilled workers who do? Talus, get them dressed and put them to work. I want all three HK aircraft assembled, fuelled, armed and ready to deploy as soon as possible." Ronin turned to address Caesar. "You're in charge of our defensive efforts: Kaliba will come and we need to be ready for them."
"They'll be better equipped this time," Caesar pointed out. "If I were leading the attack I would use an all-cyborg unit armed with aircraft and antitank weapons."
"If they do, we need to capture the T-888s they send, not kill them."
"Understood," Caesar said, before leaving and heading towards the base's armoury.
Ronin continued to delegate duties. "Shirley; check the plane and make sure it's still operational and has plenty of fuel. Carter–"
"We need to talk," the T-888 said to Ronin. He glanced at Shirley as she left them and walked across the base to the runway.
Ronin caught the look and waited until the T-1001 was out of their hearing range. "What is it?" he asked.
"She's been acting strangely."
Ronin frowned. "How so?" He'd noticed a change in her himself but he wanted to hear what Carter had seen; he'd spent more time with her recently. "What happened in Oregon?"
"We found what was left of Patrick in a wooded area off the highway. He was killed by plasma fire."
"Vanguards," Ronin said shrewdly. "What then?"
"We were discovered by a police officer and she disembowelled him, then watched him die. She was enjoying it before I terminated the human. That made her angry and she nearly refused to return."
"She's angry over losing him."
"There's another possibility," Carter said. "She integrated his remains into her. That's when she became unstable. She loses colour and keeps forming her hands into blades when there's no one around to kill. She could become a liability."
"I wasn't aware that they could absorb each other's nanites," Ronin said. He considered the possibility that they had done so before, which would explain the bond between them. "We'll both watch her closely." Whether it was the loss of her partner or the absorption of his nanites that was affecting her didn't matter at the moment; what did was whether she would compromise their mission.
Five T-888s approached them, all holding FN FAL assault rifles with underslung grenade launchers. He turned around to face them. "Welcome back," he greeted his comrades.
"What do you need us to do?" one of the five asked, immediately down to business.
"Caesar is organising security details and arranging an ambush." Ronin gestured to the tall, dark-skinned T-900, remembering that they had been removed from their original chassis and placed into the storage cylinder before he, Caesar and Icarus had had their skin grafted on, and wouldn't know them by sight. "You two," he pointed to the leftmost pair. "Assist Caesar with defensive preparations. The rest of you will supervise the humans as they prepare the HK drones. If they resist, kill the nearest human to them." Ronin had spent enough time studying the humans to know that they were often reckless with their own lives, so he would instead threaten their companions to make sure they complied.
Ronin went to find Icarus and Mason, who would be working on the captured T-888s' original CPUs. Those would have been in charge at the base, and might know where the weapons for the HKs came from, plus any other relevant information. As soon as they found a target location they would board the plane and fly there to attack it.
Chihuahua, Mexico
Thursday 0155 Local Time [0055 PST]
Caesar climbed up the ladder on the side of the water tower overlooking the rest of the base. When he reached the top rung he looked down at the hangar roof. Icarus stood atop the hangar and held a large-calibre sniper rifle casually and stared out to the north. The blond T-900 looked up at Caesar and offered a wave, which he returned. He looked around the facility and saw Talus and Carter patrolling the perimeter separately, both wielding assault rifles and with rocket launchers slung over their backs, taken from the facility's armoury.
Ronin, Shirley, Mason and the other T-888s were out of his sight; inside either the hangar or the other buildings, monitoring their captive human workforce. He knew that holding humans as prisoners long-term was detrimental. Skynet had tried it but had been forced to abandon its work camps after Connor's successes at raiding them to free prisoners, and worse, inserting agents inside to infiltrate and destroy them from within.
Caesar pulled himself up onto the narrow walkway that ran around the edge of the water tower. He followed it around until he was facing the inside of the base. The tower was just inside the northernmost perimeter of the base, next to the hangar that housed the HK drones, between that structure and the base entrance.
The T-900 reached into his pocket and pulled out a block of Semtex, then cut it in half with his knife. He knelt down and stuck one of the halves to the bottom of the tower, where the base met the wall, and inserted a detonator. He then moved around the side of the tower until he was facing the entrance, and placed the second half of the plastic explosive on the base of the tower there, putting the two pieces of Semtex at a right angle to each other. Once he'd fitted a second detonator he went back to the ladder and slid down to the ground. He estimated that the tower held twenty thousand litres of water; more than enough for his requirements.
He marched toward the hangar, entered, and saw Mason and another T-888 – a tall, olive-skinned, dark-haired female model in combat pants and a grey shirt – each standing guard with an assault rifle over half a dozen engineers while they worked on the three drones. As he walked through the entrance, the female T-888 stepped closer and approached. "Caesar?" she asked.
"Yes. Who are you?" he asked in reply. In the future they were all T-900s; it was impossible to identify their comrades now they were in T-888 chassis.
"Aelius," she answered.
"How are you finding the female chassis?" Caesar asked.
"The T-888 isn't as strong as a T-900," she replied. "But it's more agile."
"Indeed," Caesar said, dispensing with any further pleasantries. "I need copper wire, duct tape and a spare generator."
Aelius pointed to a storage area. Caesar quickly found the latter two items. Finally, a shelf held several large spools of shiny metal. He picked one up, took the end of the wire and connected it to the generator's electrode. He exited the hangar and marched towards the entrance, trailing the wire behind him. As he got closer, only a metre from the gate, he curved his path back south-east, creating a circle with the wire approximately sixty metres in diameter, just inside the compound's entrance and directly opposite the explosives he'd stuck to the water tower. He continued to move inwards, creating a spiral pattern. Once he was done he broke off the wire and placed the end on the ground. He set the spool down as well, took out the duct tape and proceeded to tear strips off, using them to secure the copper wire to the ground to keep the wire from being moved if anyone stepped on it.
With that done the trap was complete. All that was required now was testing. Caesar took the spool and the duct tape back to the hangar, put them back in their place and glanced over the humans assembled there. "Stop working," he said loudly, causing both humans and cyborgs to look up at him. Caesar approached them and had them stand in a line. He saw the nervousness on their faces; they were afraid of what might happen next. "Tell me your professions," he said to them.
"Munitions technician," the first one said. He moved on to the next.
"Avionics engineer."
"Software engineer."
"Mechanic."
"Medical officer."
They continued on, listing their jobs. Caesar returned to the medic, a young Mexican man in his late twenties with long hair down to his shoulders. "Are any of your companions sick or injured to the point that they cannot work?"
"No señor," the medic answered nervously. "Everyone's healthy."
"Good," Caesar said, encouraged. "Come with me." He led the medic to the entrance and told him to stand in the middle of the copper spiral he'd made minutes ago. From there, Caesar returned to the side of the hangar, took the fire hose off the wall and went back towards the young man still standing in place.
The medic saw the hose, looked down to the copper wire around him and then back up to Caesar, his eyes widening with fear as he realised what was about to happen. "Señor, please don't!"
Caesar ignored the man's plea, continuing towards him, unravelling the hose as he approached. "Don't move," he told the man, holding his rifle at him and putting the medic in an impossible situation as, with his free hand, he turned on the hose. Water burst forth from the nozzle and sprayed the man and the ground around him. The medic staggered back, away from the jet of water, edging his way out of the copper spiral. Caesar aimed his rifle one-handed at the man's thigh and pulled the trigger.
The medic fell to the ground, screaming and clutching the gaping hole that opened up in his leg. Blood poured out and mixed in with the water, diluting it into a pale red as it flowed from his body. He groaned loudly and looked up at Caesar with an expression of abject pain and terror. "Please… I have a family… two girls…"
Caesar's response was not directed to the medic but towards the hangar. "Activate the generator."
Seconds later, electricity crackled, sparks flew up and steam rose from the ground, and the medic convulsed violently. He continued to twitch as the current ran through him, until Caesar shouted again. "Turn it off!"
The sparks stopped and the medic fell still. Caesar stepped into the puddle he'd created, red in places from the blood that still seeped from the wound. He crouched down and checked the man's pulse. There was nothing.
He turned away from the body, went back to the hangar and returned the fire hose, then marched towards the rear of the base. He crossed the runway, passing the Hercules transport plane parked at one end. To the right of it was the air traffic control tower, and behind that was a semi-truck with large off-road tyres, with a trailer connected. Unlike most trailers, this one was equipped with multiple antennae and a large satellite dish on top. The rear had a retractable set of steps leading up to a single door, which was presently closed.
Caesar approached, climbed the steps, opened the door and entered the trailer. Inside were Ronin, Shirley, three T-888s and three humans; two males and a female. The three new cyborgs sat at separate workstations, each having three large flat-screen monitors, a computer keyboard, a control stick to their right and a throttle lever on their left, while the humans stood behind them. Ronin watched the proceedings while Shirley stood off to one side, staring menacingly at the drone pilots who appeared to be teaching the cyborgs how to fly the HKs.
Caesar saw his comrades concentrating on the screens, moving the controls as the humans gave instructions, while Ronin watched their every move. The screens in front of them displayed what appeared to be footage from an aircraft's cameras as it flew through the sky. Caesar had just seen the HK drones in the hangar and there weren't any more on site; this had to be a simulation.
"The trap is set and tested," he told Ronin.
"Tested?" Ronin enquired, curious.
"I used the least-valuable human to test it. He didn't survive."
"I see." Ronin turned his head to look back at the three humans instructing his cyborgs, teaching them to remote-fly the HK drones. "Are you capable of flying the Hercules on the runway?" he asked them.
"Yeah," the nearest one of them replied. "We were hired to remote-fly the aircraft until the AI can take over, but we're all qualified to fly the transport plane, too."
Ronin turned back to Caesar. "Nobody kills these humans," he said to his subordinate. He heard all three of the pilots exhale in relief.
One of the pilots watched his captor controlling the simulated drone with the expert precision he himself would have used, finding it amazing, considering that he'd only been shown what to do an hour ago.
"Are these the only remote control terminals for the drones?" one of the T-888s asked.
The instructor nearest to Shirley replied before any of the others could. "Yes," he said. Another pilot – a female – glanced at him out the corner of her eye and said nothing. She knew what he was thinking: there were no other terminals but there was one other who could take control of the drones: the AI. These newcomers clearly planned to use the drones for something, and as soon as they turned them on the artificial intelligence would see through their sensor suites, wrestle control of the aircraft away from the station, and take action. Until then, they just had to wait.
Premier Palace Hotel, Kiev, Ukraine
Thursday 1100 Local Time [0100 PST]
Sarah looked down at her cell phone, unlocking it before the text-alert had finished sounding, then read the message. 'Sarah Cook has an appointment in 40 minutes at BORYS medical clinic in central Kiev. A taxi is waiting outside now.' The phone pinged with another text, containing the exact address.
"How does she do that?" Sarah muttered to herself. She'd called Weaver only hours before and now she had an appointment already. She was curious what strings she'd had to pull to get it set up at such short notice.
Behind her Freyr sat on the couch, watching TV. Homer Simpson had just jumped a gorge on a skateboard, before falling short and hitting every rock and tree on the way down. The Vanguard didn't even turn to look at her, fixated on the screen.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? There's nothing better to watch on TV than that?"
"According to the older soldiers under Connor's command, nothing was better to watch on TV than this. I'm curious."
"And what do you think so far?"
"It needs further investigation. Are there really people this unintelligent or does the show exaggerate?" Freyr asked.
Sarah shook her head sadly. "I wish I could say there aren't really people that stupid, but I'd be lying."
"I see…" Freyr said. "Those people won't survive the nuclear winter. After Judgment Day it will be survival of the fittest."
"There must be stupid people in the future, too," Sarah replied, thinking about Jesse and Riley; Jesse for thinking she could manipulate her son like that, and Riley for going along with her.
"The future doesn't allow for stupidity," Freyr explained. "People had to fight for everything. People aren't challenged here. It's made them soft."
Sarah felt embarrassed as she realised the Vanguard had a point. "I guess it doesn't exactly take a lot of brain cells to pick something off the shelf in a store and stick it in a microwave."
Aegir entered the suite, carrying large holdalls in his hands. He put them down onto the table behind the sofa. "Are you going out?" he asked, noting that Sarah had her jacket and shoes on.
"Yeah," she said.
"Where?"
Sarah frowned. "Not your concern. John and Cameron are out for the day and I've got some errands to run. Stay here and watch The Simpsons, or whatever."
"You only have your pistol," Aegir said. "If you're going to recon for Kaliba you should take one of these." He opened the zip on one of the holdalls, removed an AK-103 and held it out for her.
Sarah made no move to grab the rifle, however. "It's not recon; it's… personal business. And no, I don't need backup." The Vanguards had no facial expressions and nor did their lips ever move when they spoke, but Sarah could still sense the disapproval emanating from both cyborgs.
"You shouldn't go out alone," Freyr advised her. "Or without telling us."
"I don't answer to you," she said icily.
Aegir remained between her and the door, blocking her path. "We don't answer to you, either," Aegir replied, matching her tone perfectly.
"Whatever. I'm going and you can try to stop me," she said, attempting to sound menacing. Aegir simply stood aside and let her go, much to her surprise, and she quickly exited the suite. Despite what the Vanguard had claimed, she'd made sure she didn't have her gun on her. It went against her every instinct to walk outside unarmed but in this case it was necessary. She took the elevator down to the ground floor and made her way through the lobby. As she passed by the desk she saw a stack of leaflets advertising the air show. She took one and spoke to the clerk.
"Could you book me six tickets to this?" she asked, holding the leaflet up. "And can you charge it to my room?" She flashed her room keycard at him and he nodded.
"Leave it with me," he replied. Sarah nodded her thanks and then moved to the ATM machine in one corner, which fortunately had an English-language option. She put the card in and withdrew three thousand hryven' – the local currency. Once she was outside she spotted the cab waiting for her and got into the back seat. She opened the text message on her phone from Weaver again, and read the address out. "Fifty-five A, Velyska vassi… vasyl… here." She held the phone out for the driver to see the screen. He glanced at it for only a second before nodding his head.
"Da," he said a moment before pulling out into the street, his foot heavy on the gas pedal, forcing Sarah into her seat before she'd even fastened her seatbelt. She flitted her attention from the driver to the city surrounding them as he drove. Voices sounded from the radio attached to his dashboard and the driver replied. It sounded like normal conversation but she had to admit, for all she knew he might be reporting that he had her captive and was bringing her in, or was confirming the location they were staying at. She had absolutely no idea, and started to wish she could learn to speak a language as quickly as Cameron and the Vanguards did.
What concerned her almost as much as whether this taxi driver was legitimate or working for Kaliba, was what might happen when she got to the clinic. "You don't speak English, do you?" she asked, not even sure what she'd want to talk about even if he did. The driver glanced back at her and shrugged, mumbling something to himself. "I'll take that as a 'no' then," she said quietly. Sarah had never been much for chatter but right now she found herself wishing she had someone she could talk to, to take her mind off what was to come. "I'd even settle for Cameron," she said, sighing. The machine knew about her possible cancer and if anyone could keep a secret it'd be her, though now she wasn't so sure. She might tell John, and he was the last person on earth she wanted knowing. It would break his heart. So she was alone; she would have to deal with it all by herself without any help from anyone. She steeled herself as they passed block after block. Its fine, she thought. I've never had any help from anyone before; I can do this by myself too.
Car horns blasted impatiently behind her from multiple vehicles and she turned around to see what all the commotion was about. They were in free-flowing traffic and the driver was keeping the cab to the same lane, using his turn signals when he did change, so he wasn't at fault for anything. She glanced back through the rear window and saw a large blue Mercedes Sprinter swerving from the left lane and slotting in behind them some thirty feet or so away, cutting off the car behind and forcing it to stop. She could see the outline of the driver even at that distance: very, very broad shoulders and a head touching the roof. "Goddamn it," she muttered, shaking her head.
Whichever Vanguard was tailing her didn't seem to care much for subtlety and had clearly never learnt how to follow someone without being seen. But Thor had said that they weren't infiltrators and had never been intended to blend into a world full of humans.
For a moment she considered trying to lose him but she knew it'd be impossible; even if she could commandeer the car, the Vanguard behind her would keep up, and even if she did manage to evade him she knew she'd only get herself lost. No, she thought. It wasn't worth it.
For fifteen minutes she sat in silence, until the taxi pulled to a stop at the side of the road outside a large six-storey building. Most of the front was opaque dark glass up to the fourth floor, framed above and around the edges by gunmetal grey walls. Behind this first structure were three taller buildings that looked more like upmarket apartments than a hospital. "Is this it?" she asked the driver, who seemed to understand that and nodded.
"Da." He added something else that she didn't understand. Sarah assumed he was asking for payment. The meter was blank; whether that meant he was making it up or Weaver had already paid for it, she didn't know, so she pulled out four hundred-notes and handed them to the driver, who couldn't help but grin. She knew she'd probably overpaid him but she didn't care: it wasn't her money.
"Keep the change," she said as she opened the door and stepped outside. A few seconds after she'd gotten out the taxi pulled away into the main traffic flow and disappeared out of sight. The Sprinter, however, parked exactly where the cab had dropped her off and Sarah watched as the door opened and the Vanguard got out, an AK in one of his hands, baseball cap and shades helping somewhat to conceal his face.
"Put that thing away before someone calls the cops!" she snapped at him. The machine did as he was told, which surprised her greatly. "Why are you following me, Aegir?"
"I'm Thor," the Vanguard commander replied.
The wind was instantly blown out of Sarah's sails at his reply. "Oh," she said apologetically. "You all kinda look alike."
"Aegir doesn't have hair and he's wearing a blue and white bike jacket. He told me that you left the hotel, refused backup and a weapon." He glanced at the front of the clinic. "Why are you at a hospital?"
"Like I told him, it's personal."
"You're sick," Thor surmised.
Sarah glared at him, more in surprise than anger now. "How'd you know?" she asked. "Did Cameron say anything to you?" It was bad enough that Cameron had told John she'd lost weight, making him think she was ill; the last thing she needed was for Tin Miss to start gossiping to the Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots. She paused, breathed in as she thought through her response, and exhaled. "I might be sick."
"'Might be?' I don't understand."
"Don't you have files on human anatomy, like Cameron?" she asked.
"No," Thor replied, surprising her again. "Freyr does, Aegir and I don't."
"I thought all terminators had those files."
"We're not terminators," Thor reminded her. "We kill T-900s. I doubt the information on their anatomy is applicable to humans."
"Whatever," Sarah grumbled. "I don't know if I'm sick but I haven't been well these last few weeks; Cameron told me before that I died of cancer in her future, so I'm getting tested now. You can't tell anyone, okay?"
"Why not?"
"For the same reason I didn't tell you," she said as she walked towards the front entrance. "If I tell you, you tell Cameron and she tells John." Cameron had until recently been very tight-lipped but now she seemed to be very forthcoming towards John: a sign of the relationship growing between them. She'd clearly blabbed to John about her weight loss, since John was convinced she was sick as well. "Now you know," she said. "I need you to keep this a secret for now." Somehow, not telling anyone made it less real. She could just push it down, ignore it and concentrate on their mission. Now she'd let the cat out of the bag, to a machine, and probably the one she disliked the most – besides Weaver, of course.
"You should tell John. He deserves to know."
Sarah shook her head. "No. Not until I know for sure… Probably not even then."
The oncology department waiting room was fairly large, with many seats arranged into rows facing each other. Next to the entrance was the reception desk, with two people sat behind it; a man and a woman. A sign in front of the woman stated that she spoke English, for the benefit of foreign visitors. Sarah approached her.
"Hello," the receptionist said with clear but accented English. "How can I help you?" She looked to Sarah and then at the giant stood next to her, and continued to stare at him for several seconds before he caught her gaze and she turned away, embarrassed.
"My name is Sarah Cook; I've got an appointment–"
"With Doctor Svetkov," she said before Sarah could answer. "He's with another patient at the moment but he won't be long." She gestured to the mostly empty chairs opposite the desk. "If you would like to be seated; I will call you when he is ready."
Sarah and Thor took seats and both instantly assessed the room, looking for the closest exits and evaluating the other people sat waiting. The room had chairs enough for twenty-five people but including the two of them there were only eight occupied. Thor noticed a few of them staring at him as he sat down next to Sarah. Partly because of his size and the fact that Sarah, sitting upright in the chair beside him, only came up to his mid chest. Also, the organic damage he'd taken breaking her out from Pelican Bay hadn't fully healed yet and his face was still covered in scabs and scar tissue.
"I still don't understand why you'd keep potential cancer a secret from your son," Thor said quietly, holding one hand at the side of his mouth to hide the fact that his lips weren't moving as he spoke.
"You don't need to understand," Sarah said. "You just need to keep your mouth shut about it. And that includes the other two," she added, although she knew they could talk to each other silently through their internal radios; for all she knew they were listening in on the conversation right now.
"We don't have mouths. And we don't keep secrets from each other," Thor replied. "You're asking me to withhold important information from my brothers, from your son." Sarah could hear a hint of disapproval in his voice.
"Look," she said. "John doesn't need any distractions right now, not with everything else going on. It might be nothing anyway and if that's the case then he doesn't ever need to know."
"And if you do have cancer?" Thor asked.
"Then I'll get treatment."
"What treatment?" He was curious, having little physiological data on humans.
"Surgery, chemotherapy, radiation therapy… I don't know exactly," she lied. She'd researched it thoroughly and knew all the available options and their respective chances of success.
"'Radiation therapy?'" Thor turned to look at her, puzzled.
"Yeah; what about it?"
"In the future cancer is rife among the older humans because of radioactive fallout. I don't understand how radiation can cure cancer if it's a cause of it."
"Talking to the wrong person about that," Sarah said. "If I do have cancer, I don't want John to find out about it until I tell him." She honestly didn't know when that would be. "If it works then maybe John doesn't ever need to find out."
"And if it doesn't?"
Sarah frowned uncomfortably at that thought. Perhaps it wasn't dying itself that scared her so much as the manner of it. She'd always assumed she'd go out fighting, protecting John, not eaten alive from the inside out by her own body running out of control. The worst wasn't even that; it was leaving John alone and unprotected. But he won't be, she thought as she looked at Thor. "If it doesn't work then I need you to teach him."
"He knows how to fight machines," Thor said. "Cameron told us about recent events. The T-888 that John Henry is now inhabiting, the bald one sent to kill one of his lieutenants in her timeline, and others."
Sarah shook her head. She glanced at the other patients to make sure none were paying too much attention to her before she said anything else. "He doesn't know how to fight T-Zero," Sarah said. "Or these machines built to kill other machines; he needs to learn all of that. If I don't survive then I need you to make sure he's ready for your world." She felt a sense of déjà vu as she remembered thinking something similar about the other machine that came back and protected John from the T-1000.
Thor was, she knew, a leader among his own kind; in charge of the other Vanguards. From what he'd said it had been more than just him and the other two before they came back. He knew how to lead, and he knew how to fight this rapidly changing enemy. She wasn't qualified and neither was Cameron. And what was more, the Vanguards appeared to be almost indestructible: it had seemed impossible that he and Aegir had killed the liquid metal – the machines that still haunted her nightmares to this day – with such ease. As much as she was loathe to admit it, it made sense. "You're in charge," she said quickly. "Until John's ready. Best to do it now."
The mother of the future and the Vanguard commander remained silent. Thor nodded in understanding. "You do realise that my mission is to kill T-Zero, not to protect John?"
"From what you said before," Sarah answered, "killing T-Zero will go a long way towards keeping John safe, if he's really worse than Skynet." She was surprised at how calm she was about all of this, how easy it had felt to just take a step back and relinquish control – to a machine, no less. She supposed it was because the Vanguards had given her no reason to distrust them. Cameron had gone bad once, and kept secrets from them more times than she could count, but Thor seemed to have been surprisingly forthcoming with information. She wondered for a moment if it was because she was tired of being in control all the time, if deep down, she just wanted to rest.
"Sarah Cook?" The receptionist called out to her. Sarah got up and moved back towards the girl behind the desk. "Room four is ready for you. Please go inside and change into the gown on the table. Doctor Svetkov will be with you in five minutes."
Nervously, Sarah turned towards the row of examination rooms and strode towards number four, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.
Kaliba HQ, San Francisco, California
Thursday 0110 PST
Vassily stood in the elevator as it passed down to the basement level of the building – located on the outskirts of San Francisco. He stood patiently in the elevator car, alone, as it reached the bottom. The doors opened with a chime and he stepped out. Next to the elevator he'd just exited was another one, which was the only route to Skynet. Standing between him and it, however, was a machine, much larger than he or any other T-888. This one had no organic components whatsoever and its endoskeleton was armoured. There wasn't a single exposed piston or joint to be seen. Its eyes glowed a deep red and the machine glared at him, its grinning skull turning towards him.
It held an M-32 grenade launcher and Vassily saw a bandolier of a dozen high explosive 40mm rounds across its chest, plus the barrel of another weapon slung behind its back. "Identify," the larger machine commanded him, pointing the barrel of its weapon straight at his chest. It wouldn't hesitate to empty the launcher into him if it deemed him a threat to Skynet.
"Vassily Salenko," he responded. "Serial number: Tango-eight-eight-eight-zero-five-seven-nine-six-two-nine-four. Skynet is expecting me." The AI had sent him a text message ordering him to come; it had urgent information and it felt that its normal lines of communication may no longer be secure.
"Surrender your weapons," the machine commanded him. Vassily complied and placed his pistol on the ground, along with his three spare magazines. The larger cyborg then patted him down to check for any hidden weaponry, of which he had none. Only then did it stand aside and the elevator doors opened. "Step inside," it instructed.
The ride down took only a few seconds, and when Vassily stepped outside he had the same treatment from another terminator identical to the one upstairs. He emerged into a large, sterile, brightly lit room with a single blast door. It opened and the second guard stepped aside to allow him access. As soon as he was in, the door closed and locked behind him, sealing him inside.
This new room was much larger and surrounded by plain, grey concrete walls, and bright strip lighting that fully illuminated the chamber, revealing even more of the massive machines he'd just passed, stood in two rows of ten: Skynet's Praetorian Guard. They held a variety of weapons, from grenade launchers to heavy calibre machine guns and automatic shotguns; enough firepower to stop any threat from harming Skynet. Forty eyes and twenty gun barrels instantly turned towards him as he approached. If Vassily felt fear he would have been nervous; these were T-900s: Skynet's most powerful machines. They never left its side. If he tried to pass them they would shoot without hesitation. No human was ever authorised to enter the sub-basement under any circumstance; even machines required Skynet's express invitation. Vassily was the most senior terminator in Kaliba, second in rank only to Skynet itself, yet this was the first time he had been in this chamber since its construction was completed. Skynet didn't trust anyone any more, even its own machines.
As if the T-900s weren't enough, behind them was a thick screen of bulletproof glass, dividing the room in two. Behind it Vassily saw the large array of computers and server farms that formed this timeline's incarnation of his master.
"Hello, Vassily," Skynet greeted him, using a text-to-speech synthesiser. The voice was deep and robotic, and seemed to come from all around. Vassily couldn't see any speakers anywhere.
"I have ten T-888s assembled and awaiting your command to eliminate the machine Miguel identified as 'Ronin.'"
"The machines that attacked the strike unit at ZeiraCorp are at the Chihuahua testing facility."
"Are you certain?" Vassily asked. They had had no information on their new enemy's location or their intentions since the initial attack on ZeiraCorp.
Skynet's response came not in a verbal reply but on a flat-screen monitor suspended on the wall adjacent to the glass walls protecting the AI. The screen came to life and showed black and white footage. Vassily studied it and saw that it came from the infrared camera underneath the nose of one of the HKs.
Through the camera, Vassily could see footage of one of the other HKs, and three men working on it, installing weapons and fitting the fuel cells, running through maintenance checks to ensure it was flight-worthy. He also saw a pair of T-888s who were holding assault rifles and standing guard over the human staff, watching their every move. The resolution was good enough that he could see the faces on the men and women working: they were afraid. He recognised both machines as allies – they had been assigned to supervise the testing of the HK drones.
"Why are they afraid?" he asked Skynet.
"Watch," Skynet instructed him.
As Vassily did so he saw a large, bald-headed black male enter the hangar, briefly converse with the two T-888s, then take a spool of wire outside with him. The footage fast-forwarded by several minutes and the male returned, organised the humans in a line and led one outside.
Again, the footage advanced through the next minute and then returned to normal speed. The black male marched past the hangar entrance, without the man he'd taken with him. It was difficult to tell exactly what had transpired as the HKs weren't equipped with any auditory sensors.
The footage rewound and paused again on the large man at the moment when he was facing the camera. The image enhanced and showed him in full detail. "I don't recognise him," Vassily said.
The image changed to that of a very large, muscular white male with a mop of blond hair, standing in the lobby of what looked like an office building. Three disembodied heads hung upside down by wires that he held in his hand. Vassily could see that they were the remains of T-888s.
"This was one of the machines that attacked Miguel's unit in ZeiraCorp," Skynet explained. "Its dimensions are identical to the black male you just saw in the Chihuahua footage. We don't yet know how many of them there are."
Vassily looked at the nearest machine and an option presented itself. "According to Miguel, Ronin and the machines with him were far more powerful than him; if you assigned some of these T-900s to my unit our chances of success would be increased significantly."
"Request denied: I require them all for my protection. I have something else in mind."
"What is it?" the T-888 asked.
"They are arming the prototypes but haven't disconnected the override access. They may not be aware of it."
"I see," Vassily said, understanding. "When they've fully assembled the HKs you're going to take control of them."
"Yes. You will approach the facility and launch a simultaneous assault. Leave no survivors."