"Sarah Connor is in a halfway house in Los Angeles," Alissa said, as though reciting.
"A what?"
"It is a place for the inmates of mental asylums or prisons to stay while they are eased back into society." Alissa paused. "There is absolutely no security. The
inmates are trusted to obey the house rules, to go and return on some sort of honor system. Should I explain honor system?"
"No, I know what that is. What about John Connor?" Clea asked.
Alissa pursed her lips and raised her brows in an annoyingly superior manner.
"Von Rossbach's servants have been recorded speaking to their relatives. He and Connor returned alone. Now they've disappeared again, no one knows where."
Clea felt a sharp bolt of fear shoot through her, followed by a healthy anger.
"When were you planning to share this information with me?" she demanded.
"And what, if anything, have you done about the situation?"
"I was planning to tell you as soon as I confirmed that von Rossbach and Connor were truly absent from the estancia. Which I have done. Naturally I would not initiate any action against them without consulting you. I have suggestions."
Clea made an encouraging gesture.
"We could send a Terminator after Sarah Connor," Alissa suggested. "Though given our track record to date, I'm reluctant to commit-such a resource unless absolutely necessary."
A valid point, Clea had to concede.
Alissa continued: "I think it's safe to assume that von Rossbach and John Connor are on their way to the United States. Probably with the intention of freeing Sarah Connor. They may also be seeking allies. Logic would seem to suggest that they need them rather badly."
"As do we," Clea admitted. Which was, of course, what their support of the New Luddites and their more fanatical brethren was about. Athough dupes and catspaws would be more accurate terms than ally.
Alissa ignored the comment. "I have hacked into surveillance cameras at all customs checkpoints in the United States," she said. "I've assigned a Terminator to monitor them full-time."
Clea nodded. "Excellent," she said. "I think that I agree with you about sending a Terminator for Sarah Connor as well. Perhaps only to observe and report. If her son and ally show up we can try to get them all at once."
"It might be better if I was the one sent to observe," Alissa suggested. "They wouldn't be expecting a child."
The idea held exciting possibilities, Clea had to admit, and she wanted to take advantage of her younger sister's offer, but…
Shaking her head, Clea said, "No. You're too vulnerable and much too valuable.
As yet there is no one to replace you."
Alissa said nothing, but Clea could almost hear her thinking that if they were short of I-950s to share the work, it certainly wasn't her fault.
With a frown Clea snapped, "I'm working as hard and as fast as I can. Right now is not the time to begin breeding another 950. It is to be hoped that my efforts will give you more leisure in these matters."
The problem was Clea herself felt that her efforts were inferior. Instinct told her
that in a better world she would be culled to prevent expensive errors. But in this time and place she was the best available.
No, that wasn't strictly true. Alissa was the better Infiltrator. Clea wished that she dared to use her. Clea looked at her sister for a long time. Then took a deep breath and plunged in.
"In the rush to bring me to maturity I fear that errors may have been made. But that maturity is still a valuable asset, and so I must continue as leader for now. I rely on you to point out oversights such as this one.
It you continue to do so, then we should be all right. Once you have reached maturity I will become your second."
Alissa gazed back at her with a pretty frown. "If you were to start another 950
what would happen?" she asked.
"I don't know," Clea admitted. "None of us has ever been pushed as I have. It may have affected my eggs, making them either infertile or inferior product. The only way to find out is to use them. Which, as I've pointed out, we don't have the time for right now."
The child's face was implacable and her eyes betrayed her disgust. She, too, had sensed Clea's weakness and yearned to correct it by terminating her. But she was also the ultimate pragmatist. Clea was not so inferior as to be useless and her loyalty to Skynet was strong. Skynet itself would encourage them both to use the tools at hand.
"Very well," Alissa said. "But I think that the Terminator we send to watch
Sarah Connor should be a different type than we usually make. It should be smaller, perhaps older looking. Something nonthreatening."
"Yes," Clea agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "A Watcher rather than a Terminator.
Will you see to it for me?"
Looking annoyed, the small I-950 nodded, her lips tight.
"I would also like to send a Terminator to South America," Alissa said. "It may be possible to find out more from that end. It may even be possible to eliminate one or both of them with fewer complications."
The elder I-950 frowned; her sister had a point. "You don't think that they can be traced by computer?" she asked.
"Yes," Alissa said. "If they use their own names and passports." She knew her sister could calculate the odds of that happening for herself and so didn't bother to offer the figures. "I believe that some investigations are better handled face-to-face."
Clea considered. Her sister hadn't asked to go herself, realizing that the T-101
would be the more logical choice. And it would be helpful to know their enemies' exact locations.
"Very well," she said.
"And if the opportunity presents itself?" Alissa asked.
"Terminate."
The little I-950 actually smiled. "I'll get to work, then."
"Excellent," Clea said, smiling. She went back to her own work feeling more content. They were going to win this time. She could feel it.
Alissa walked away, frowning. She knew very well that her own brain was immature and therefore should have been a tool less keen than her older sister's.
Yet she also knew from several different failures on Clea's part that even with her younger, less developed faculties she saw things more clearly, evaluated outcomes more realistically.
It was troubling, desperately troubling, that Skynet's future was in the hands of an inferior agent.
Alissa tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that even with diminished capacity Clea was still more intelligent than ninety-eight percent of their human enemies. It was the worry that the Connors were among that elite two percent that made her queasy.
She was too young to be in charge. Yet accelerating her maturity might well damage her brain and cognitive function in the same way that Clea's had been.
Skynet would not be better served by two idiots instead of one.
The machine side of her brain decided that panic was imminent and eased back on the production of certain of her brain chemicals, released certain others.
Alissa began to grow calmer, better able to plan.
For now she would have to be the eyes in back of her sister's head, as a human might say. She would have to make up for Clea's lacks. It wouldn't be all that
long before she could take over. At which point she would decide if her sister was useful enough to retain or too dangerous to tolerate. For now, as Clea had said, with the two of them working together, they should be all right.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ASUNCION, PARAGUAY, OCTOBER