“You try hooking up a human brain to a set of metal limbs and internal servos and see what happens,” Lajard growled. “You need an interface chip to handle data transfer between neurons and electronics, and that chip has to be programmed for the job.”
“With a few other enhancements thrown in,” Williams said.
“What enhancements?” Preston asked.
“Location and ID data,” Williams said. “Secret mission parameters and profiles. Complete Skynet control.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Lajard insisted. “I worked on the damn chip, remember? There was nothing like any of that in the programming.”
“Then why did that Theta try to kill me?” Jik asked. “Or are you suggesting it’s pure coincidence that the Theta was running the same agenda as the T-700s out there? T-700s that we know are under direct Skynet control?”
“I don’t know,” Lajard said stiffly. “But as long as we’re pointing suspicious fingers, I might mention that we’ve only got your word that there even was a hybrid out there, let alone that it attacked you.”
“Which brings us back to you,” Oxley put in. “We’ve told you about Theta. Let’s hear a little of your story.”
“Oh, come now,” Jik said reprovingly, a slight smile touching the corners of his lips. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me. But surely you at least recognize my voice.”
“Your voice?” Preston asked, frowning.
Barnes’s throat tightened. Ever since Jik had gotten the drop on them out in the forest he’d had the nagging feeling that he’d heard that voice somewhere before. Now, abruptly, his brain made the connection.
Only—
“Of course,” Jik said. “Jik is just a nickname from my childhood, a name I use when I’m keeping a low profile. It’s a blending of my initials, J.C.”
He drew himself up, his eyes sweeping the group of people around him.
“I’m John Connor.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A stunned silence descended on the room. Their expressions, Blair saw as she looked around, ranged from stunned to hopeful to flat-out disbelievingly worshipful.
She looked at Barnes. His eyes were focused like twin Gatling guns on Jik, his lips starting to twist into the kind of snarl that usually preceded one of his borderline-suicidal leaps into danger. His eyes flicked to Blair—
Quickly, urgently, Blair gave her head a tiny shake. Not now, she pleaded silently. Later. Not now. Not here.
His eyes narrowed in silent, impatient question. Blair flicked her eyes to the ring of armed townspeople surrounding them.
Barnes scowled. But to Blair’s relief he gave her a small nod and settled back a little into his seat.
Preston was the first to find his voice.
“Well,” he said hesitantly. “I... welcome to Baker’s Hollow.”
“I think what Mayor Preston is trying to say,” Lajard growled, “is what the hell are you doing here?”
Preston turned an outraged look at the scientist.
“Lajard!”
“No, I mean it,” Lajard insisted. “You’ve put the whole town at risk just by being here. Why?”
“I assume you heard my last broadcast,” Jik said, gazing unflinchingly into Lajard’s glare. “We lost a lot of people in the San Francisco attack. We need replacements, and we need them now.”
He waved a hand around him. “You—the people of Baker’s Hollow—have managed to survive out here in the wild. Not just survive, but actually prosper. You’re exactly the kind of people we need.”
He raised his eyebrows slightly.
“In fact, I’ll go farther than that. We need a new base, preferably something in this part of the country. Baker’s Hollow and the surrounding area may be just what we’re looking for.”
“What size base are we talking about?” Halverson asked suspiciously. “We’ve got all the population right now we can supply.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Jik assured him. “If we come, we’ll bring our own food and equipment with us. With extra for anyone who joins us, of course.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Lajard said with only a hint of sarcasm. “In the meantime, your precious Resistance is a long way away, and we’ve still got a couple of Terminators beating the bushes for you out there.”
“So let’s deal with them,” Jik said firmly. “What resources do you have aside from the guns and bows I’ve already seen? Any explosives?”
“No.” Preston patted his side pocket. “But we’ve got a little gasoline for fueling our emergency lighters.”
“How much?” Jik asked.
Preston looked at one of the other men.
“Ten gallons?”
“Closer to twelve,” the other said.
Jik shook his head. “Not enough. What about chains or study ropes?”
“We’ve got some chains, but they’re not very long,” Preston said. “We’ve got a fair amount of good rope, though.”
“Chucker’s bear traps have chains on them,” Halverson offered, gesturing to one of the men across the room.
“You have bear traps?” Jik asked, his eyes lighting up. “How many?”
“I got two that are in decent shape,” Chucker said. “There’s another one, too, but it’s a little iffy.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll make it work,” Jik promised. “Go get them, will you? The rest of you grab any chain or thick rope you’ve got, plus any tools for fixing Chucker’s traps. Whose house is closest to the river?”
“Mine,” one of the women spoke up.
“Bring everything there, as quickly as possible,” Jik ordered. “Along with everyone who has a large-caliber gun and ammo to load into it.” He gestured to Preston. “Mayor?”
“You heard the man,” Preston confirmed. “Get to it.”
“Before you go, Connor,” Blair spoke up as the group made a concerted rush toward the door, “could we have a word with you?”
“Certainly,” Jik said, sidestepping a couple of men as they hurried past.
“Back here, please?” Blair said, standing up and gesturing toward the bedrooms.
Jik’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Why can’t we talk right here?”
Peripherally, Blair saw that a few of the men, Preston and Halverson among them, had paused to listen.
“This would be better discussed in private,” she said as Barnes also stood up.
“We’re all allies here, Williams,” Jik said. “Whatever you have to say, go ahead and say it.”
Blair threw Barnes a questioning look. He gave her a reluctant nod.
“Fine,” Blair said, turning back to Jik. “As it happens, Barnes and I work with John Connor. The real John Connor. You’re not him.”
The room went utterly still.
“Excuse me?” Jik said into the brittle silence.
“I said we know the real John Connor,” Blair repeated. “We don’t know you.”
“That’s interesting,” Jik said evenly. “Because I am the real John Connor. And I don’t know you.”
“Of course you don’t know us,” Barnes said. “We just said that.”
“So what we have here is your classic standoff,” Jik said calmly. “My word against yours.” He waved a hand that encompassed the people around them. “Except that these people know my voice. They know nothing about you.”
Blair looked around. He was right, she realized. Whatever this scam was he was running, he had Connor’s voice down cold. A voice that these people had probably been listening to for months.
And if it came down to believing a pair of strangers who’d dropped out of the sky or the man whose exhortations had kept them hoping and working toward a better day, Blair had no doubt which side they would come down on.