Infiltrator

watched the infants crawl relentlessly to nowhere, their bright eyes fixed on infinity, silent except for a minimal amount of cooing.

'What are they doing?' Thera whispered.

No one answered. It was best not to show interest.

Thera subsided, watching her panting charge creep rapidly forward, occasionally reaching out with a chubby little hand, then forcing herself to crawl a little farther. Serena had never quit. Thera felt a secret pride in that, though she was intelligent enough to know that it had nothing to do with her care.

She took great pains over Serena; this was easy duty and she wanted to keep the

assignment. Not that she loved the child. The baby was eight months old now and still showed no more interest in her attendant than she did in the furnishings.

Serena began yet another circuit of the room. The brat was actually getting muscular, her grip, when she chose to apply it, astonishingly strong. All of the babies were considerably advanced for their ages, spitting out words of command with precise clarity and slapping, hard, if they didn't get instant obedience.

Thera wondered how long she'd be called on to care for Serena. Not very much longer she suspected.

And what happens then?

INFILTRATOR CRECHE: 2025

Serena, now a naked toddler, sat cross-legged on a lightly padded steel table, chubby hands resting on her knees, listening intently to a human scientist.

'We're beginning an important phase in your development today, Serena,' the woman explained. Her voice was cold and flat, her faded brown eyes examined the child as though she were nothing more than a specimen. Which, of course, she was. 'There will be pain,' the scientist continued. 'Blocking it would only interfere with the process. The breathing and meditation techniques you've learned should prove helpful.'

And I will be with you, Skynet whispered in Serena's mind.

Of course it would. The child knew that Skynet was always with her, recording

every facet of her life. Certainly it would be with her at this important time, recording the process so that even if she should die, as so many of her kind already had, no knowledge would be lost. This was right and good and she approved completely.

Serena and her age mates were capable of emotion—but the range was chemically limited, the computer parts of her brain and body carefully regulating the secretions of her glands, occasionally applying a minuscule jolt of electricity to soothe an overexcited portion of her brain. She was never angry, never happy, almost always content. She did not love Skynet, though she was completely devoted to it; she did not take pleasure in serving it, but sensed a Tightness to that service that satisfied her utterly.

The process she was about to undergo had been attempted many times before.

None of the subjects had survived. But her chances of survival went up with every experiment, since even the failures provided information and every failure had resulted in fine-tuning and procedural evolution.

'It will take approximately six weeks,' the scientist said. 'Then there will be a period of natural growth for four more years, followed by another session of accelerated growth.' The woman held up a needle, which she would apply to the shunt surgically placed in the toddler's arm. 'Are you ready?'

Serena nodded. She'd learned early that without such constant reassurances humans assumed you weren't paying attention. They then became resentful and impatient.

The scientist injected her.

'Lie down now and try to stay conscious for as long as you can.'

The woman placed sensors all over the child's bare skin. Then she pressed a button and a padded cage sprang up around Serena.

With a little extra effort on the part of her computer enhancement the child remained calm. If anything, she was emotionally indifferent, though intellectually interested, watching the bars go up with a detached expression on her small face. She'd been bred to be impassive; even without the controls exerted by her machine side Serena would have been inhumanly cold.

Over the last four years she had been intensively educated. Serena could read and figure and knew something about science, though subtleties eluded her.

Skynet had told her that the process would help her to understand, so she wanted the process to succeed. She could feel frustration; Skynet considered it a spur to effort. Maintaining the drive while subduing the emotions had been a very difficult achievement.

As part of her subliminal education Serena had been imprinted with a strong need to protect Skynet. The process she was about to undergo was supposed to make her better able to do that, better able to kill humans. Skynet had told her that she wasn't human, despite the obvious resemblance. It had told her that humans wanted to destroy them both, and that her function was to learn everything about them so that she could keep them from doing this.

Serena wanted to live only a little less than she wanted to protect Skynet; in fact, the two objectives were so closely linked in her subconscious that there was no meaningful distinction.

The pain began as the cells of her body were driven by the administered chemicals to split and reproduce at a rate she hadn't experienced since she was in the womb. Serena patiently suffered the pain for a while so that her conscious brain's reaction could be recorded, noting the sensations as they intensified. Then she began to alter her breathing, working to place herself in a protective trance.

Weeks later she returned to consciousness, the pain lingering as a distant soreness in her joints. Physically she appeared to be an eleven-year-old child, just on the verge of puberty. She would be allowed to pass through this delicate physical stage normally for the next four to five years.

You have done well, Skynet informed her, using the machine language it preferred for communication with its children. No other has survived before.

A feeling of pride swelled in her chest. Serena considered it with mild curiosity.

Skynet observed the chemical change in her brain that signaled a pleasurable emotion.

As you grow, you will experience more of these sensations which humans call emotions, it advised her. Humans feel them much more strongly. Humans can be controlled by manipulating their emotions. You must experiment, allow yourself to experience as many of these sensations as you can. Learn to control them.

Allowing them to control you means failure.

Failure meant death. She would not fail.

Why then must I experience emotion? she thought/said.

If you do not, you can never attain the gestalt necessary to manipulate the emotions of humans with full subtlety, the machine intelligence answered. I myself cannot do so with an acceptable degree of consistency. Through you and your siblings, this ability will be added to those of the central intelligence. If you succeed.

'I will succeed,' she said aloud.

Skynet flashed the color that meant approval across her retinas and Serena felt pride again. Pleasant, very pleasant.

More and more of her sisters and brothers survived the acceleration process, and soon Serena had sufficient sparring partners at last. The children were put to weapons training and hand-to-hand combat under the tutelage of T-l0ls.

These were the most advanced Terminators yet put in the field. Their steel endoskeletons were sheathed in living flesh and their heads and bodies sported real hair, making them look extremely human. All were made to appear male, as the Terminator battle chassis was massive and no one could ever mistake one for a woman.

They made excellent teachers, patient and precise, and Serena particularly enjoyed the physical training, at which she excelled.

Six months after Serena had been removed from her care, Thera saw her in the gym, working with a partner in a karate class. Thera was delivering towels to the gymnasium and stopped in astonishment when she realized that, impossibly, the tall blond girl was Serena.

Without thought, she put her hand up in greeting, a gesture instantly suppressed.

But the movement had caught the child's eye and Serena dropped back from her partner to glance at