Terminator Salvation: Cold War

more, many of the more obstreperous delegations might have chosen not to abandon the prospect of an alliance too quickly.

People filed back into the auditorium. The translators got back to work.

The Japanese general, who had been introduced to Losenko as Seiji Tanaka, proposed a compromise.

“Despite our differences, shall we at least agree that joint efforts are required to deal with the chaos now confronting the world?” He tactfully avoided any mention of Skynet or Terminators. “With civilization in ruins, it is imperative that our armed forces work together to restore order—and overcome whatever forces threaten the remains of humanity. Escalating military conflicts will only hasten our extinction. We cannot afford another Judgment Day.”

Earpieces translated his moving appeal. Grudging murmurs of consent came from the gallery. Losenko was encouraged by the response.

The Chinese delegate spoke again.

“No one denies the necessity of international cooperation during this crisis. Strong leadership is required. But who will provide that leadership? That is the question that concerns us.”

“We need someone who fully understands the nature of the enemy,” the British commander proposed. “Someone who has already proven his ability to bring together this alliance.” She was a formidable older woman with short white hair and a severe expression. “I nominate General Ashdown.”

Her suggestion provoked an uproar. Angry protests in multiple languages erupted from the gallery. The Chinese delegate glared at the British contingent.

“That is unacceptable!” he cried vehemently. “Just because you choose to be the Americans’ lap dogs, as always, do not expect the rest of the world to forget who is responsible for our downfall.”

“General Ashdown knows more about the threat than anyone here,” the French delegate chimed in. “And this meeting would not be taking place if not for his vision and organization.” He sneered at the Chinese. “I second the nomination.”

“Let us put it to a vote.” Tanaka attempted to play peacemaker once again. “General Ashdown. Do you have anything you wish to say before we poll the assembly?”

Ashdown stepped up to the podium.

“Just that nobody here wants to make things right more than me.” His grave expression attested to his sincerity. “If you elect me to this command, I pledge upon my sacred honor that I will not rest until humanity has a second chance to live in peace and security again. That’s all.”

“Very well,” Tanaka said, nodding. “Shall we conduct the vote?”

After a brief debate, the notion of a secret ballot was rejected. Everyone wanted to know how the others stood. Proceeding around the room, the highest-ranking member of each delegation rose to cast their vote. The air-conditioned atmosphere was fraught with tension. Standing stiffly upon the dais, his arms clasped behind his back, Ashdown awaited the judgment of his peers.

Losenko wondered how he would react if the vote went against him.

Predictably, the voting broke along the old geopolitical fissures. NATO and the other western nations, including Australia and New Zealand, supported Ashdown, while China, India, Cuba, and various others voted against the American general. Israel and Pakistan championed Ashdown. Libya and Iran did not. South America and Africa mostly sided with the Americans, with a few notable exceptions such as Venezuela and the Sudan.

The sharp divisions depressed Losenko. Such durable prejudices boded ill for the Resistance.

The more things change....

Nevertheless, as his own time to vote drew near, Losenko found himself torn. He did not wish to fall into the trap of the old ways of thinking, yet he had his reservations about Ashdown. What the man had done in convening the summit was laudable, but his dismissive attitude toward civilian militias concerned him. The old military structures were in tatters, or else controlled by Skynet. It was going to require flexible thinking—and the heroic efforts of ordinary people like Grushka and Josef—to take back the Earth.

He feared that the general might be too much of a career soldier to adapt to this new world of man against machine. Ashdown was a product of the Pentagon, the very people who had thought computers were to be trusted more than the men and women who ran them.

He whispered to Utyosov.

“What do you think, Bela?”

“I’m just a tired old man with a bad heart,” the retired captain answered. Losenko outranked him by virtue of still being in active service. “You will be fighting this war longer than I will. You must decide for yourself.”

General Tanaka called on Losenko. He could feel Fokin’s fierce gaze burning into the back of his skull, a proxy for Ivanov. Then he considered the hostile faces of the anti-Ashdown faction. It was possible that the American general was simply too divisive a choice.

Yet Losenko felt he owed the man a debt, due to the tragic loss of his son.

But there is too much at stake to allow my own troubled conscience to sway my judgment.

“Captain Losenko?” Tanaka prompted again. “How does Russia vote?”

Losenko made his decision.

“Nyet.”

Down on the dais, Ashdown did not look surprised by his answer.

Despite the Russian’s vote, however, the American was elected by a narrow majority. The Chinese delegation walked out without a word, taking with it many of its allies and satellites. Empty seats faced Ashdown as he stepped up to the podium once more.

“Let them go,” the newly appointed commander of the Resistance decreed. He watched his unhappy adversaries exit the auditorium. “They’ll be back when the Terminators come knocking.” He looked up at the gallery, which was much less crowded than it had been before. Still, not all the dissenters had abandoned the summit; Russia and a few others remained.

“Those of you who voted for me, I thank you for your support.” He looked directly at Losenko. “And I also thank those of you who opposed my nomination, but still see the value in this alliance. I give you my word that I will do my level best to live up to the profound responsibility you have entrusted me with. One way or another, Skynet is going down.”

There was a smattering of applause. Losenko clapped politely. So did Utyosov.

Sergeant Fokin kept his hands in his lap.

“Let’s call it a day,” Ashdown said, perhaps to give the losing faction time to get used to the idea. “We’ll begin strategy sessions tomorrow. Start pooling our intel and setting up secure communications and supply networks.” His voice grew even more sober. He looked the audience over sternly. “This was the easy part, people. Tomorrow we roll up our sleeves and get to work.” He saluted the assembly. “Dismissed.”

The remaining delegates began to file out of the auditorium. Accommodations had been arranged in the nearby community of Puerto Ayora. Losenko was about to invite Utyosov to join him for a drink, when Corporal Ortega tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, skipper. The general would like to have a word with you.”

Now what? Losenko wondered. His gut twisted in anticipation. Had an ugly confrontation over the bombing of Alaska merely been postponed before? Or was Ashdown simply unhappy that Losenko had voted against him. Perhaps he preferred that Utyosov take charge of the Russian end of the Resistance.

“Of course,” he assented. For better or for worse, Ashdown was his commanding officer now. He made his excuses to Utyosov. Sergeant Fokin wanted to accompany him, but Losenko insisted that he watch over the older captain instead. Then he let Ortega escort him from the gallery.

He found Ashdown back in the library, which had already been converted into an impromptu command center. Maps and aerial surveillance photos had been pinned up over the nature photographs. A bull’s-eye had been drawn over a map of southern California. Ashdown was huddled over a stack of reports and dispatches when Losenko came in. He dismissed his aides and Ortega.

“Give us the room.”

The other officers departed, leaving the two men alone. Losenko faced Ashdown, prepared to accept the consequences of his actions, no matter what they might be.

“You asked to see me, General?”