Infiltrator

'We're both all right,' she said, reaching toward him. 'It's nothing like that.'

'Well, for God's sake, Tarissa, lay it on me! You're making me crazy here.'

'It's about the night Dad died,' Dan said. 'There's stuff we didn't tell you.'

'But now we think we have to,' Tarissa said, taking up the tale and her son's hand.

She paused to collect her thoughts. Tarissa could see that she had all Jordan's attention and he wasn't angry with them. Yet. He looked puzzled and concerned, but not actually upset. That's a relief. She looked around the room and made a decision.

'This is a discussion for the kitchen,' she announced. 'I want something to wet

my mouth and it's more comfortable there.' Without another word she rose and left the room. Once in the kitchen she put on the kettle and reached for the teapot. It was more of a tea than a coffee kind of conversation coming up. Danny trailed in a moment later, eyes downcast.

'Put out some cups, would you, hon?' she asked. She poured hot tap water into the pot to warm it.

Jordan came in, his hands in his pockets. 'Hello?' he said, his head tilted to the side.

Tarissa smiled at him and motioned to the table.

'Sit down. It'll be ready in a minute.'

She and Danny bustled around, continuing to set the table while he stood and watched them as though they were performing some bizarre ritual.

Eventually Jordan shrugged and with an exasperated expression made a point of pulling out a chair and seating himself at the table. Then he clasped his hands in front of him, head titled to the side, an expression of deliberate patience on his face.

Inside he was still a bit scared.- He didn't know where they were going with this, but he didn't like the sound of it. I wish we could get on with this.

When everything was ready—the plate of cookies, the cups and saucers, sugar and milk—Tarissa placed the teapot on the table; it had been his mother's.

Jordan looked up at her. Whatever it is they have to tell me, he thought, they are my family and I will protect them. He nodded at Tarissa and she poured.

'We've told you before how it started,' she said, her eyes on his cup. 'But then we sort of segued past a lot of very important stuff.'

'Stuff?' Jordan said flatly, watching her pour for Danny.

'Sarah Connor shot Miles,' she continued, pouring her own cup. She put the pot down and reached for the milk. 'Danny ran into the room and threw himself over his father, demanding that she not hurt him. He was so brave. I was all but paralyzed myself,' she admitted.

Then she tightened her lips, looking into her cup as though she could see it all happening again in there. Tarissa turned the cup carefully, then picked it up and took a sip.

'At this point,' she said slowly, 'what we have to tell you, now, is different from what we've told you before.'

Jordan leaned back, his eyes half-closed, assessing. But he was listening.

Tarissa licked her lips and closed her eyes. It helped her remember the order of events. There was nothing about that night that she could ever forget, except for the order in which things happened.

'After she shot Miles, he pushed Dan away, and I grabbed him and held him.

Sarah was crying; she said, 'It's all your fault. I'm not gonna let you do it.' Miles asked, 'What, what?' And she shushed us, and then she collapsed in a heap,

crying. I let go of Danny and grabbed Miles, holding him in my arms. And then the door crashed open and this huge man in black leather came in, followed by this boy of maybe ten.' She looked up at Jordan, then back down at her cup.

'The boy was John Connor. He went to his mother and calmed her down. Then, when Miles asked, 'Who are you people?,' John said, 'Show em,' and handed the big man a knife. Then he got Dan out of the room.

'I will always be grateful to him for that, and that Blythe was asleep.' She took another sip of tea.

'Then,' she continued, 'while we watched, the big man took a knife'—she held up her arm—'and sliced into his arm.' Tarissa drew her other hand around and down her arm, miming the action. 'Then he dropped the knife and grabbed the skin, and pulled it off in one piece.'

Jordan's jaw dropped and he looked at her with his eyes wide. He shook his head. 'What happened then?' he asked, glancing at Danny.

'I wasn't there to see that,' Dan said. 'But later I snuck down the hallway and listened while everybody talked. I heard what he said.'

'You did, baby?' She hadn't known that—no wonder he had nightmares. Tarissa reached out and rubbed her son's arm, then took a sip of tea and continued.

'What happened after he pulled his skin off? Well, under his skin wasn't muscle and fat and bone and veins.' She shook her head and shuddered. 'Oh, no, nothing human at all.'

' What?' Jordan leaned forward, squinting. 'What do you mean, nothing human?'

'It was a very intricate machine,' she said. 'There was blood, but that was there to feed the skin. It wasn't really blood, either; it was red like blood, but it was a nutrient fluid.' Her eyes got a faraway look. 'I can still see it displaying its hand to us. So many little steel parts and cables and, like… these pumps, they made a kind of whirrr when he moved and…' She let out a little huff of breath. 'I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't seen it. And believe me, Jordan, I wish to God I hadn't seen it! Eui-l- did!'

Jordan closed his eyes and ran a hand over his head.

'Maybe this was some kind of special effect,' he suggested. 'Like a prop or something in a movie. He might have held his real arm against his side and…'

Tarissa was shaking her head. 'He was wearing a tight T-shirt. And he was using the arm and the hand, manipulating things with it. It was real, Jordan.' She held up her hand. 'And that's not all. He told us what Sarah meant by 'it's all your fault.' She meant that Miles was going to design a revolutionary chip that would go into the creation of a computer called Skynet. Skynet would be put in charge of all military hardware, all the computers, the missiles, the planes that carry the missiles, the subs, everything. Humans would be removed from the equation in the United States in order to eliminate'—she held up her hands and made air quotes—'human error.'

'That kinda sounds like a good thing,' Jordan said hesitantly.

Tarissa looked at him over her teacup and shrugged.

'Maybe it would have been, if Skynet hadn't become sentient.'

'Okay, time out,' Jordan said. 'How could you believe this? This is Sarah Connor's psychosis, this is what the doctors said she babbled about constantly.

It's what made her go around destroying factories and killing people.'

'Look, if there's one thing I'm sure of, Jordan,' Tarissa said firmly, 'it's that Sarah Connor is not a killer.'

'Oh, come on!' Jordan slapped the table. 'Miles is dead, Tarissa! My brother, your husband, is dead because of that woman!'

Tarissa leaned forward, her hand to her breast. 'Miles is dead because he was trying to save us!' she said. 'And because the police shot him. No one was supposed to get hurt.' She waved her handito stop his next comment.

'I know she's not a killer; when she had him at her mercy, with nothing to stop her from killing the man she honestly held responsible for… basically causing the end of the world, she—did—not—shoot. She could have, she wanted to, but she couldn't do it.' Tarissa sat back and looked at her brother-in-law. 'I was there, Jordan. And I know.'

Jordan just looked at her. Oh, my, God, he thought. She's crazy. Tarissa is completely out of her mind. He looked at his nephew.