“Unless this is all there actually is to the man.”
Hope frowned. “You mean like maybe the Resistance doesn’t exist?”
“No, I’m pretty sure the Resistance exists,” Preston said. “But maybe Connor himself is nothing but smoke and mirrors. Just some high-sounding broadcasts and a bizarre itinerant preacher game.”
The team’s rear guard was crossing the river, and the people who’d been left behind were heading down the trail toward town before Hope spoke again.
“In that case, why would Barnes and Blair say they work with Connor?” she asked. “Unless they’re lying. There has to be a real John Connor out there, a John Connor who really is the big Resistance leader he claims to be.”
“So someone’s lying,” Preston concluded. “Of course, we knew that two hours ago. The question is who?”
“I think it’s Jik,” Hope said firmly. “I don’t think he’s John Connor at all.”
Across the river, the last of the townspeople disappeared into the woods.
“Could be,” Preston said. “Fortunately, thanks to Halverson, you and I now have a bit of time to explore that very theory.”
He picked up the backpack they’d taken from Barnes and slung one of its straps onto his shoulder. With most of its ammo magazines now with Jik and Halverson, it was considerably lighter than it had been.
“Let’s head home. I feel like a long, serious conversation.”
* * *
“Well?” Barnes asked from his end of the couch.
Blair consulted her watch. Since the last sounds of distant gunfire had died away... “About half an hour,” she told him.
Barnes grunted. “Means they got ‘em.”
“What do you mean?” Smith asked anxiously from his guard post by the window. “Who got who?”
“I mean they nailed the machines,” Barnes told him. “If they hadn’t, you’d still hear shots every once in awhile from survivors trying to get away.”
Smith exhaled heavily. “Thank God,” he muttered.
Blair looked sideways at the two men, both of them visibly relaxing with Barnes’s news. The other possibility, unfortunately, was that there was no survivors’ gunfire because there were no survivors.
But there was no point in bringing that up. If it was bad news, they’d find out soon enough.
“So who do you think he is?” Barnes asked.
Blair made a face. She’d been poking at the whole Jik question ever since Preston had stuck them in here, under armed guard.
“My guess is he’s a con man,” she said.
“Looking for what?”
“Here and now?” Blair shrugged. “Food and shelter would be a decent enough reward for any scammer these days.”
“Mm,” Barnes said.
Blair eyed him. “You’re not convinced.”
“You might be right,” he said. “Probably are. You like their story about Marcus?”
Blair felt her throat constrict. Was Barnes going to throw that name in her face for the rest of her life?
“I don’t see—”
“Because I don’t,” he cut her off gruffly. “There’s something about it that doesn’t add up.”
She frowned at him, her reflexive reaction fading away as she belatedly noticed the concentration on his face. For once, he wasn’t simply trying to goad her.
And he was right, she realized. There’d been something about the scientists’ description of the Theta Project that seemed a little off.
“I agree,” she said. “Any idea what it is?”
“For one thing, they were pretty damn casual about the whole thing,” he said. “You saw them.”
“They wouldn’t be the first people to lose their consciences.”
“Yeah, but—” Barnes shook his head. “I don’t know. Forget it.”
And then, abruptly, Blair had it.
“No, don’t forget it,” she said, her breath tight in her throat. “You’re right. Damn it.”
“What?” Barnes demanded.
“They said Marcus was a prototype,” Blair said, her mind racing as she tried to make something coherent out of the sudden updraft of thoughts and suspicions swirling through her head. “Remember?”
“Yeah,” Barnes said, watching her closely. “So?”
“So Marcus had a mission,” Blair said. “He was trying to lure Connor into Skynet Central where the machines could kill him.”
Barnes grunted. “Did a damn good job of it, too.”
“Which is exactly my point,” Blair said. “Prototypes don’t get sent on missions. Prototypes don’t get used for anything. They’re built purely to test out the systems, or to experiment on in the lab, or even just see how the specs look in solid form.”
“Unless he was all Skynet had left after it blew up the lab,” Barnes suggested.
“And it managed to program the mission into his chip and get him in position to survive the explosion, all on the fly?” Blair countered. “Because the way Connor described it, the start-to-finish window on that mission was pretty damn short.”
“So if Marcus wasn’t the prototype, what would the prototype have looked like?”
Blair shook her head. “Like I said, its only purpose would have been for study. To show how the interfaces worked, how the living organs handled their job—that sort of thing.”
“So if it had a wrecked face, no one would care.”
Blair looked sharply at him.
“The Theta that attacked Jik,” she said. “Are you saying that was the real prototype?”
“Or maybe a couple of steps down the line,” Barnes said. “So once you got all the insides working, what would be next?”
Blair studied his face. His tone and expression said he was going somewhere with this. But where?
“You tell me.”
Barnes shot a glance at Smith and Trounce, who were leaning forward as they listened intently to the conversation.
“These Thetas are Skynet’s new infiltration units, right?” Barnes said. “I mean, why else bother?”
“They’re definitely a step up from T-600s and rubber skin,” Blair agreed. “A little on the risky side, though. You saw how Marcus was able to break Skynet’s programming.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Barnes said with a grunt. “What I was thinking was that once Skynet got their bodies looking right, it would have to bring their brains in line, too. That means...” He stopped, eyeing her expectantly.
And then, suddenly, she understood. “False memories,” she bit out. “That’s what Jik is. He’s a Theta.” She glared at Barnes. “You figured that out, and you didn’t say something?”
“Hey, I didn’t get it until you were in the middle of your big prototype speech,” Barnes protested. “And we both should have gotten it a lot sooner anyway. Remember when we crossed the river and he got tangled up in that loose T-700 arm?”
Blair felt a shiver run through her as she recalled, “He didn’t just get tangled. The arm’s reconnection magnet grabbed him, just like that mine at the base got Marcus.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Barnes said. “Don’t know why he didn’t just kill us once we saw that. Probably figured we were too stupid to notice.”
“Or he genuinely doesn’t know what he is,” Blair pointed out. “Marcus didn’t.” She looked over at Smith and Trounce. “That also explains a few other things.”
“Like?” Barnes asked.
“For starters, why Baker’s Hollow is still here,” she said. “This town—these people—are Jik’s test run. His own—” She smiled faintly at Barnes as a piece of last night’s conversation flickered up from her memory. “Skynet’s own trial by fire.”
“What are you talking about?” Smith asked.
“Don’t listen to them,” Trounce growled. “We’re still here because we’re smart and tough. A hell of a lot smarter and tougher than the city pansies they’re used to.”