Infiltrator

'Is that a yes?' Tricker was enjoying himself hugely.

The big man waved a ham-like hand at him. 'Why am I efen talking to you. You are chust an ignorant cop.'

Tricker beamed at him, blue eyes twinkling.

'We are talking hundrets uf tousands uf dollars, we are talking about pure science. What do you know about deese tings?'

Shaking his head and spreading his hands, Tricker smiled ruefully.

'I don't know nuthin' about making hundreds of thousands of dollars. And I don't know a damn thing about pure science.' He dropped his hands. 'What I do know is'—he pointed to the door—'you walk out of here without a commitment to

work exclusively for Cyberdyne, under our terms, you don't get to come back.

Ever. There will be no renegotiation, no second approaches, nothing. Ever.' He tilted his head, grinning. 'Did you know that?'

'I don't haf to put up wit dis.' Viemeister glanced at Colvin.

'Unfortunately, you do if you want to work for us,' the CEO told him. He shrugged. 'We're over a barrel here ourselves. The government is willing to leave us alone for the most part, and the restrictions they've placed on us are for our own safety and the safety of the company.' Colvin drew himself up. 'The choice is yours.'

The big scientist glared around the table, not liking the situation one bit. He was used to people giving in to him. He was used to them thinking he was worth suffering humiliation and bullying. His physical presence didn't hurt, usually, either. But Tricker was utterly immune to reputation, and to muscle as well.

Usually people with superman fantasies weigh three hundred pounds, have no neck and pimples like purple quarters, Colvin thought resentfully. And that's just the women. Why do I have to run into one who really is a fucking superman?

Why do I have to be caught between him and this… this spook bureaucrat?

'De budget you promised? De facilities? De eventual publication uf my work?'

'That all stands,' Warren said.

'When he says 'eventual publication of his work,' you did make it clear that anything we feel should be classified, will be?' Tricker nailed Colvin with his glare.

'Yes, of course,' that worthy said in exasperation. 'That's to our benefit, too.

Whatever Mr. Viemeister publishes will concern his own work on commercial projects until after the copyright has expired.'

'Or wit special permission, you said.'

'Yes,' Colvin agreed, sounding harried.

'Den I will sign your contract.' Viemeister's expression was grim, as though he were signing away his life instead of signing a contract most scientists could only dream of.

'Cheer up, Kurt,' Tricker said. 'You're about to enter a whole new world.' On that the government liaison rose and without another word, left the conference room.

He could feel the young scientist trying to burn a hole in his jacket with a high wattage glare. Tricker knew the type. This guy was the kind that would consider any compromise a humiliation requiring a vengeful response. Some of these boys were willing to go pretty far to get their own back. The kraut would have to be watched. He'd have to keep harrying Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber about a security chief.

SAN GABRIEL PEAK, ANGELES NATIONAL FOREST, CALIFORNIA: 2029

Captain Marie Graber looked over her shoulder, back down the narrow mountain trail. Three or four soldiers behind trod the golden-haired woman who ignited

the joy in her soul. Marie grinned. Sergeant Serena Burns looked up and caught her glance, returning the smile with interest.

The captain's heart lifted as she turned forward again and continued to climb. It was hard to remember the icy bleakness that had hollowed her out for so long now that she had Serena. Her lover had renewed her hope almost from the first moment they'd met. The thin highland air smelled sweet, even sweeter than the smell of resin from the pines all around.

Marie and her team had been holed up in Boulder, Colorado, running low on almost everything but sweet potatoes, of which they hadn't that many. God, how she hated sweet potatoes. Serena had arrived with dispatches and a chunk of maple sugar. It was love at first sight.

The sergeant had been with her for six weeks now as they'd wended their way back to base. Now the captain was going to have the honor and the pleasure of presenting her beloved to the supreme commander. General John Connor. The man who was going to save the human race. She was near bursting with pride.

Serena watched the captain climb with satisfaction. She'd been with Connor's army for less than six months, most of that time delivering dispatches. Most of them reading the same way they did when given to her. The closest she'd gotten to Connor had been the day she was nearly killed by him when he outsmarted Skynet at the power-cell factory.

Some of the dispatches had been artfully altered so that the results favored Skynet forces. Some were delivered just too late, but with sufficiently desperate effort that no questions were asked, no blame ascribed. She grinned. Even though she wasn't human she just had to admit there was pleasure in a job well

done.

Every step upward brought her closer to the ultimate goal of the destruction of John Connor and, if she was fortunate, his senior support staff. Many of them were supposed to be with him on this occasion. True, killing Connor might not save Skynet, whose defense grid was smashed, but it could slow things down enough to make a difference. One thing Serena had learned in her time with humans was that refusing to admit defeat often averted it. If you gave up, you were certain to lose; if you kept fighting in a hopeless corner, you might just pull it off.

Killing Connor would certainly extinguish her. But you couldn't have everything; something the captain was fond of saying. Skynet would go on, that was the important thing. And Skynet was the most important part of her.

As she neared the top of the steps Serena twitched a muscle deep inside and started the countdown on the bomb she carried within. A sidebar in her vision began a countdown. Her head came above the steps and through the crowd she could almost see him at last. John Connor.

A soldier's head blocked her view of everything but the top of his head, one eye, and a shoulder. He seemed to be smiling as he shook the hand of the man before him. Even from behind, Serena could tell that the soldier would have stars in his eyes. The count was fifteen seconds. Fourteen. Thirteen.

Return to base. Skynet's command was adamant.

Automatically Serena stopped the countdown. She stepped back, covered her mouth as though she was going to be sick, and widened her eyes to a semblance

of desperation. Soldiers stepped aside sympathetically.

'I'll explain to the captain,' one of them whispered.

She waved her hand in appreciation and fled…

CHAPTER THREE

LOS ANGELES: THE PRESENT

California sunshine partially diffused the bright blue streamers of electrical discharge that suddenly reached out of nowhere like blind hands. They touched… a Dumpster, a chain-link fence, and a van sitting empty outside a dress shop in a tiny L.A. strip mall. Then they crawled and coalesced into a black sphere resting on the surface of the ground. Steel sparked and glowed as a corner of the Dumpster vanished; a hole of perfect circularity appeared in the chain-link. A shallow hemisphere was scooped out of the asphalt paving, all in an instant of not-time. Wind blew, stirring a Styrofoam cup and a scrap of newspaper, a scatter of thin eucalyptus leaves, tossing them in whirling circles.

Static hum built to an unbearable intensity—mounting to an earsplitting crack that died into sudden silence. Debris floated gently down to earth.

The 1-950 writhed helplessly as spasms shook through its human tissue. Internal systems driven off-line by