"Yes, that would be good." He looked at her and shrugged. "Did you have something in mind?"
"I don't know if this is possible," she said to Ike. "But I was thinking, maybe, some sort of souped-up taser?"
Ike looked between them both, then at his wife, who shrugged.
"Sure, I could soup up a taser for you," he said. "But how souped up are we talking here?"
"At least three or four times what you'd need to drop a man my size," Dieter said. "Maybe more."
Ike blew out his breath. "The problem there would be battery power." he explained. "I guess I could work out some sort of back- or fanny-pack arrangement." He wasn't talking to them now, but to himself. He looked up suddenly. "When do you need this?"
"Tomorrow morning," Sarah said definitely. "I'd say tonight but that's just the mother in me talking."
Ike gave her a long look, then nodded. "I can have one, definitely. I'll try for two, but I make no guarantees."
"I'll accept that." Sarah smiled wearily. "It's more than I have any right to expect.
And I thank you."
The computer beeped, and von Rossbach drew it toward him. He tapped keys and read, then tapped some more.
"There is no Skynet project," he said after a careful search.
"There's probably an artificial-intelligence project, though," Sarah said. She came to stand by his shoulder and read the text he was looking at. "Right now the things that will go into making Skynet might just be starting up."
Dieter started broadening his search, using "AI" and "artificial intelligence" as search parameters. Within seconds he had several projects listed. The first one he pulled up had a familiar name. "I know about this guy," he said. "He's a genius, but he's also a lunatic."
Sarah shrugged slightly. "In what way?"
"He's a Nazi for one thing; genuine article, no Haider pussyfooting. We watched him carefully in the Sector. We thought that he had terrorist leanings and that he could do a lot of damage if he put his mind to it. A very powerful mind."
"Maybe he's the one that taught Skynet to hate," Sarah said. Maybe we should kill him, she thought. Stop the hate, stop the problem? After all, there was no guarantee that destroying Cyberdyne again would stop the project. Unless we get all the stored information this time.
John's face was suddenly in her mind's eye, smiling, obviously about to crack a joke; she pushed it aside. She wouldn't allow herself to think about him until after they'd gotten him free. If I think about him now I'll break down. And then she might never get up again. So feelings and memories she didn't need. What she needed was something constructive to do.
"This is all great stuff," she said, "but not pertinent to our mission. We need to know how Cyberdyne is laid out, and if there are security codes needed to work the elevators, things like that."
"Yes," Dieter said. He tapped keys. A menu came up and he made a selection. A map of the complex came up on the screen.
Donna leaned in. "We've got a printer in the office that you can use," she offered. "In fact, why don't you go set up in there while Sarah and I get dinner ready."
Sarah's eyes widened and her nostrils flared. She was about to say something obnoxious like My son could be dead and you want me to peel potatoes? when
she stopped herself. Actually, making supper might help. "Okay," she said.
"Print out that map for one, Dieter." Sarah turned to Donna. "What would you like me to do?"
"Chop up some wood, hon, and I'll fire up the stove," Donna answered matter-of-factly.
Sarah smiled. She'd been right to keep her mouth shut. Hitting something with an ax was just what she needed right now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CYBERDYNE: THE PRESENT
Serena sat absolutely still and concentrated on her breathing, trying to push every other thing in the world to the outer edges of her consciousness. The technique had been taught to her by Skynet itself and she had used it for as long as she could remember to focus her mind. Unfortunately, today it was terribly difficult to concentrate and she kept having to start over.
Today she was as close to murderous rage as she'd ever come in her life. The desire to kill was almost overwhelming. She positively lusted to tear a Terminator apart. Regrettably that was impossible; they were irreplaceable and not to be disposed of lightly, even if they were incompetent, moronic, bungling, inadequate, ineffectual, maladroit…
It didn't help that they were only following her orders. I should have let them kill Dyson, she thought bitterly. She was going to have to kill him anyway and she could easily have blamed the Connors for his death. Never in her life had she felt
stupid. It was horrible. It was human.
Still, sending the Terminators after Connor and her accomplice had seemed more important—the more disciplined decision. John Connor was in her hands whatever happened. Catching his mother and the man with her was more logical than shooting some easily disposed of human who might still have some utility.
But the woman's ability to escape certain death bordered on the supernatural…
unless she was the unknowing tool of a continuum that kept trying, with idiot persistence, to restore the original timestream. Once again she had slipped through their fingers.
Her own fingers squeezed the arms of her chair, making deep indentations in the hard rubbery material. Serena forced them to relax and she started the meditation process over again. A deep initial breath—
"Ms. Burns." Mrs. Duprey said, her apologetic voice interrupted Serena's solitude like a gunshot. "I know you asked not to be disturbed, but… Mr. Warren is here to see you."
I don't have time for this! Serena thought, irritation spiking. But one didn't send the president of the company away with a flea in his ear. "By all means send him in, Mrs. Duprey," she said mellifluously.
Serena stood as Warren entered the room, shutting the door behind him. "I'm sorry to interrupt you," he said, sounding subdued.
Is he still regretting the loss of that bitch? she wondered. "Not at all," she said aloud. "I have a slight headache and was taking a break."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," he said. He looked for a moment as if he'd caught her with her shirt off. "It's just… this memo you sent around. I'd like an explanation, if you don't mind."
He'd surprised her. Serena thought of Warren as a nonentity, regarding Colvin as the real power at Cyberdyne, the one to work around. But the CEO was on a business trip to Dallas and wasn't expected back until Tuesday. She had hoped to have everything settled by then.
Serena smiled at the president and gestured him to a seat on the sofa. He sat and she sat beside him, her arm along the back of the couch. "I imagine the scientists are up in arms," she said, grinning.
"I've had a few calls," Warren said dryly.
"I wouldn't ask for this if I didn't think it was absolutely necessary," Serena said, turning serious. "We received some information—which turned out to be all too accurate—that Sarah Connor was gunning for us again."
The president grew visibly paler. Visibly to someone like Serena, that is.
"She's back?" he almost whispered. He put a hand to his forehead. Then he turned to Serena. "Tell me."
"She's made an attack on our Sacramento storage facility. I sent Mr. Dyson up there to take care of it and he gave me some good news and some bad news. The good news is that they stopped Connor from actually bombing the place. The bad news is that the system probably has a worm and/or a virus in it, and will