In the Hands of an Angry Machine
Chapter Eight: Orpheus
Riley woke up and realized she must have cried herself to sleep. Her eyes darted around the room in panic. She was alone. It wasn't here. Maybe she was safe.
No. And she shouldn't sleep either. Never. Not while it was out there. Waiting. John had sent it for her after he had learned the truth. He must really hate her, but why? She had poured her heart out to him, told him she loved him, that they were meant to be together . . . and for him to stick his machine on her like a dog. How could he be so cruel?
He hated the machine; she heard him say so. John should be with her instead. She was a woman. And she was real. Why couldn't he love her? It wasn't fair. She didn't deserve any of this. That machine was going to hurt her.
And what if she hadn't pushed that 'Call Nurse' button . . . ? She shivered. It was good thing that had scared it away.
But for how long? It could return any minute. No. It wouldn't do anything to her as long as she was here. Riley could push the button again, scream for help. Nurses would come. Cameron wouldn't want to draw too much attention.
But it was probably in the parking lot, waiting in the bushes.
She knew she couldn't stay in the hospital forever, and as soon as she left, she had no doubt it'd be there. Questions and needles forever. And John, watching his machine do its work, and smiling.
John was a monster. And it was its fault.
In the future Riley had never seen General Connor, but Jesse had told her stories. That thing had always been by his side, poisoning his mind with its machine thoughts. Jesse had been part of a group that wanted to help him by making the machine go away. She had spied on John, and had told Riley of the things she had seen them do. They were . . . lovers . . . Riley shuddered. That couldn't be true. Could it?
Future John must have been a brainwashed fool to have thought there could be a soul behind those dead, unblinking eyes. Didn't he know they were fake?
Or maybe he didn't care. If that was true, he was just a pervert.
Riley would have been better off in the future. At least there she wasn't important enough to hunted down and questioned.
Maybe she should slash her wrist again, so she could stay longer.
Or maybe do it right this time.
Before she could dwell on that further, the door to her room opened.
Oh no! It's here! She was about to hide under the sheets, but it was only three men who entered. They all wore ties and suits. One with gray hair flashed a badge at her.
"Ms. 'Riley Dawson?'" the man said. "FBI, Department of Homeland Security. We need you to come with us, please."
Cameron didn't know the extent of Kyle's augmentations, but apparently he still needed to rest. He had fallen asleep shortly after their conversation, and now sat slumped in a chair next to the bed.
She scanned John and Sarah. They were asleep too. For real, this time.
Picking up the laptop from the dresser, she went into the bathroom.
The hidden message had been for her eyes only. Written in a computer code only she would know, and displayed in a color spectrum only she could see, the text had flashed on the bottom of the screen during her future self's video.
It was the name of a file. And a password.
Cameron pulled down her pants and sat on the toilet. After initiating a liquid evacuation cycle, she opened up the laptop and searched for the file. Multitasking is effective time management.
The file folder was disguised as part of the operating system. Cameron opened it and typed 'Orpheus.' The contents of the file vanished, and text and images flashed across the screen, faster than a human brain could process.
Surgical experiments, neural implant schematics, gene therapy procedures: Cameron absorbed it all. It took nineteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds. After it was finished, the file wrote over itself and was gone.
She closed the laptop.
Cameron now knew all there was to know about human augmentations. In the earlier experiments, the subjects experienced impaired cognitive and motor functions. Those results were unsatisfactory; the methods were flawed. But by the end, the experiments were a success. Her future self had saved her valuable time. The experiments would no longer be necessary.
Humans may be inefficient, but they can be upgraded.
Her future self had said that she loved John and Kyle. Cameron wasn't sure if that was possible, but if love is a preference for another to improve and be psychologically satisfied, then to love John would be to augment him.
An augmented John would not be mentally distressed. His conditioning would have prevented his suicide attempt.
Perhaps she should meet with Alex Akagi.
Derek liked hotdogs. He'd been told that they were made out of pig snouts and hooves and testicles and whatever, but in the future he had eaten rats out of sewers. Meat's meat. Who cares?
He sat on the bench and watched the kids in the playground. He hadn't seen himself yet, even though it was a Saturday. Usually he was here with his brother in the mornings. Derek couldn't remember what else he could have been doing.
A hand, on his shoulder.
Derek turned around. Jesse held up a phone.
"Got a new cell," she said.
Derek held up his own. "Me too."
She grinned. "It's good to have connections."
Derek nodded. "And money."
Jesse sat down next to him. "So, find out what happened yet?"
"No, but I'll meet up with them this afternoon."
"What about the girl?"
Derek shrugged. "Don't know any more than I did yesterday."
Jesse sighed. "Let's exchange numbers."
John sat on the pavement outside the hotel room and leaned against the brick wall. His mom had finally fallen asleep, and Kyle had gone out for supplies. He felt like talking to Cameron, but she seemed to be enthralled by the flash drive. He wondered what was on it.
The door opened. Cameron stepped out.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yeah, just getting some fresh air. How's mom?"
She sat down next to him. "She's still asleep."
"Find anything interesting on the drive?" he asked.
"Yes." Her mouth dropped into a contemplative frown. "We should ally ourselves with Dakara Systems."
John laughed. "Mr. Akagi? I don't think we exactly ended on good terms with him. I mean, he ripped us off, and mom beat the shit out of him."
"It's what I did." A pause. "Would have done. After you died."
"Well, I'm not dead anymore. Thanks to you." He gave her a smile. "Thanks."
"Sarah doesn't think I deserve thanks."
"Did she tell you that?"
"I heard her, last night," she said. "I have good hearing."
He frowned. "She's wrong."
"No, she's right. I'm a machine. I don't have a soul."
John couldn't think of anything to say to that. "It doesn't matter," he decided. "You are what you are."
Cameron cocked her head, then smiled and nodded. "Yes, I am what I am." She looked almost proud.
Neither spoke for a while. John picked up a pebble and ran his hand over it.
"Did I do wrong?" Cameron asked. "In the future?"
John frowned. "I don't know," he said. "Mom said you put chips in people's heads or something. That's wrong. But it sounds like you tried to do good." He shrugged. "I don't know. It wasn't -- wouldn't -- be your fault." No, it'd be my fault. "You didn't know," he added.
"Are you going to teach me?"
"Teach you what?"
"Right from wrong."
A car pulled into the parking lot. It was an old red sedan. John recognized Kyle behind the wheel.
"I'll try," he said.
Cameron's progress down Highway 110 was impeded by heavy traffic. Her average speed so far had only been 33 miles per hour. There must be an accident ahead. She was going to be late for her rendezvous with Derek. She should have taken the service road.
She had left John with Kyle back at the hotel. Someone should always be with John from now on, just in case. His psychological status was still in flux.
But could she trust Kyle? Cameron thought it over briefly and decided she could. Her future self had trusted him. So should she.
Now that Cameron possessed adequate knowledge of human augmentations, she knew all about Kyle's enhancements. High tensile micro-fiber muscle implants allowed for greater strength and reflexes. Titanium hyper alloy skeletal reinforcement and sub dermal ballistics armor increased durability. Extensive gene therapy allowed fast regeneration and a slowed aging process. And his neural net cranial implants amplified cognition while inhibiting brain functions that led to irrational behavior.
Kyle was a more effective human. John should undergo the same process.
But John had said that that was wrong. He would not want that done to him.
But it would be for his own good. He would understand, afterwards.
Cameron mentally set the subject aside. It would be a while before she could do such a procedure. She would think about it later.
She took an exit and pulled onto North Avalon Blvd.
Jesse had been tracking Derek's cell for over six hours. 'Tracking' may have not been the right word. To track a target, it has to move. Derek hadn't. The entire time he had spent in the park, no doubt sitting on a bench, stuffing his face with hotdogs, and watching children. If he wasn't careful, he'd get a paunch. Or get arrested.
Jesse set her laptop to give an alarm if his signal moved, and reclined her seat back to take a nap.
A few seconds later, it beeped. She sat up and watched his signal move across the monitor. Derek was heading south, towards the East Basin warehouse district.
Jesse pulled her seat forward and started her truck. She drove down Del Amo Blvd.
It was shame she had to leave Derek out of the loop, but he was too soft. Softer than her Derek, anyway. He didn't know the extent of her -- its -- influence. She had told him, though; not everything, but enough. And she'd left out what she'd done. But Derek was too loyal for his own good. He would never betray John, even to save him.
But maybe none of that would be necessary. Who knows? Maybe Riley succeeded.
Not bloody likely.
She pulled onto Highway 110 and glanced at her laptop: North Avalon Blvd. That area must be where his rendezvous point was. Or maybe the Connors were holed up there. She'd have to check to make sure.
Jesse took an exit and entered the area. Mostly old warehouses. Not quite derelict, but not exactly a thriving district either. Her own safe-house was only a couple miles away.
She pulled around a corner and entered an empty lot. Ahead were two freight depots buildings. Jesse parked her truck in the alley between them.
Derek's signal was about three hundred yards way. West.
Binoculars in hand, Jesse went on foot to the end of the alley. She peeked around the corner. Across a cargo storage lot, through two chain-link fences, and next to an old warehouse sat a truck. She looked through her binoculars. A Dodge Ram.
Derek's truck.
This must be where he said he'd meet them. All she had to do now was wait and follow them back home. That, and find Riley. She'd called every hospital in the area, and Riley wasn't in any of them. At least not under her that name. Something didn't add up.
An old red sedan drove up and parked next to Derek's truck. Jesse watched through the binoculars as Cameron left the vehicle and entered a side door of the warehouse.
She felt it. That old familiar frantic energy. It surged through Jesse's chest, and she knew she was about to do something very stupid.
"I shouldn't be doing this," she thought as she turned to walk back to her truck. I should wait until I have a better shot. I should set a trap and be sure. I should learn if Riley succeeded or not. But none of that mattered. Jesse knew she had no choice; the opportunity was here, and she had to take it. Sometimes it seemed her entire life was nothing but a vicious cycle of reckless decisions and panic driven escapes. Hell, that was why she was in this situation in the first place. The fact that she knew she was being foolish only made it worse.
God, this is stupid.
She opened the bed of her truck and from under a tarp pulled out a silver rifle case. Stupid or not, she could do this. She would do this. Fuck Riley. Fuck the plan. She'll put an end to this -- here and now.
She'd killed Cameron before. She'll do it again.
Cameron parked the sedan next to Derek's truck and entered the warehouse through the maintenance side door. The room was stacked with old wooden crates; between two of them was a staircase leading down to a basement.
She went down the stairs and entered through the open door.
"You're late," Derek said. He was leaning against one of the shelves along the wall, the one where the thermite was stored.
Cameron decided to tell him. "Your brother is alive."
Derek eyes widened and he stood up. "What?"
"Your brother is alive. He's back. From the future."
He shook his head in disbelief. "Kyle's dead."
"The future has changed. He's alive."
Derek's mouth opened, then lifted into an awkward grin. "Kyle . . .?"
She should tell him the rest; he'd find out anyway. "John tried to kill himself."
His grin disappeared, and his eyes grew hard. "What? Why? Wh--"
"He found out Riley was from the future. Kyle was sent back to prevent his suicide."
Derek said nothing and looked at the floor in confusion. Perhaps he was suffering from an information overload. Human brains are inefficient at absorbing new data.
". . . Riley?" he whispered. "Why?"
Cameron picked up a duffel bag and began to fill it with weapons. "She was sent back with a member of the resistance to conspire against John."
His face turned angry -- with a trace of fear in his eyes.
"Who?" he snapped. "Who was sent back with Riley?"
Cameron looked at him. "Corporal Jesse Flores."
Derek tried to hide his reaction, but with a quick scan Cameron could detect the sweat secreting from his brow and the sudden dilation of his pupils.
"You know who she is." Cameron said.
"Yes . . .I knew her," he confessed. ". . . back in the future," he added. He leaned back against the shelves and took a deep breath. He was hiding something.
"Corporal Flores is very dangerous," she said. Should she tell him the rest? Ever since that day, she had avoided thinking about it. Remembering it caused an irritated sensation -- and it had become irrelevant, anyway. Cameron had changed the past. That future would no longer happen.
But now the relevance had returned.
"John didn't send me back," said Cameron.
Derek looked at her. "What?"
"John didn't send me back. I sent myself back." She paused. "John was dead."
"No . . ." he whispered. "That . . . "
"Corporal Flores killed him."
Derek clenched his fists and entered a combat stance. "No!" he shouted. "You're lying! That's fucking bullshit."
She zipped up the duffel bag. "It's not fucking bullshit." she said in a quite voice, and walked back up the stairs. Derek was agitated, and there were many weapons in the room that could damage her. A tactical withdrawal was advisable.
Footsteps followed her from behind; she glanced down at him. He was unarmed.
"Wait!" he called out. "Why . . . why did she do it?"
At the top of the stairs she turned to look at him. "I don't know."
He leaned against the handrail of the stairs. "You're lying!" he said "You're just fucking with my head." He finished climbing the steps, two by two. "Jesse wouldn't do that. It doesn't make sense."
Cameron went to the maintenance door. "I was there," she said, then opened the door and stepped outside.
She had only taken one step towards her car when she noticed movement in her peripheral vision. She turned to look. In the distance there was a light, the sun reflecting off glass.
She saw a muzzle flash.
Everything went dark.