and moved carefully toward the door to
the stairway. When he'd backed off enough that he couldn't be seen from the street, he rose to his feet, moving quickly.
For now, best to scrub this part of the mission and move on to the next contact.
He'd lay a false trail or two, then head for his rendezvous with John in New Mexico.
***
It had been only ten days, but they had been ten wonderful, glorious, fabulous days. John had never enjoyed himself so much in his life. He'd snuck into classes and spoken with professors, spent hours and hours in the library, worked with Wendy and her friends in the labs.
They'd even found time to just hang out, in Snog's room or in off-campus student cafes, and he'd caught glimpses of Boston's life from a student point of view, bookstores and Harvard Square and little theaters. They'd talked all night about how to save the world, both the world as it was and the way John feared it would be. It was fun and valuable in its way. Though for a couple of days there he'd let himself forget what he was supposed to be doing and just enjoyed it. He'd even gone dancing with Wendy. John smiled at the memory; the girl knew how to move her fine body.
What he hadn't done was so much as kiss her. God knew he wanted to; every time she walked into a room it felt like his veins were filled with melted butter.
His dreams had definitely improved since he'd met her. And the scent of her almost made the top of his head pop off. He very much feared that he was falling in love.
John looked at her and she smiled at him. Then she took his hand and he couldn't speak; even if he'd been able to, his mind was completely blank. His body, however, was telling him exactly what it wanted him to do.
Wendy had insisted that they take the T to the airport. He suspected that she was more interested in spending the maximum amount of time with him than in simply saving money. Not that she had money to spare, or time either.
The sun sparked copper highlights in her hair and John sighed. He didn't know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, he just didn't think it would be right.
Look what had happened to his mother and father. Besides, he was too young to be thinking in terms of forever.
But… he and Wendy seemed so right together. As though they'd known each other all their lives. After her initial prickliness had worn off, John found that he'd never been more comfortable with anybody except his mother.
Maybe it was because, like his mom, Wendy knew the truth and believed what
he said about Skynet and Judgment Day.
Not that it had been an easy sale, by any means. Wendy and her friends were smart and they all possessed the natural skepticism of scientists. But the Terminator's CPU trumped all their arguments. Its sheer sophistication left them with nothing to say. Except 'wow,' which they said frequently, They had all given him their word that no one outside their group would learn of the artifact from them. Meanwhile they would spend every spare hour on working out its design and how it functioned. As well as recovering any possible software and/or data files.
He'd also gotten them to agree to come to Paraguay, or at least to leave the city after graduation. That had been tough since they had all imagined themselves staying on to get at least their master's from MIT.
The Logan stop came all too soon. Hand in hand he and Wendy left the train and went up the stairs to wait for the bus.
'You won't have much time to make your flight,' Wendy said, checking her watch. 'Maybe we should have taken a cab.'
John smiled slightly. ' 'S okay,' he said. 'It's better this way—less time for security to look me over.'
She studied him anxiously. John was without his disguise. He doubted he'd need it given the computer-aged picture law enforcement had of him, which only vaguely resembled him. Oh, it was good enough to help convince people you were
by wouldn't elicit recognition, he was confident.
They had to stand on the bus, holding on to the pole and looking into each other's eyes. He'd heard about this eye-gazing thing and wondered how people could want to do it. But with Wendy it was magical, enthralling. They almost missed their stop.
It really was late and they ended up running. He smiled at her as the woman at the gate took his ticket, and was about to take it back and board… when with a sound of total exasperation Wendy grabbed him and kissed him.
John came up gasping and then he smiled, feeling… altogether too much.
Wendy looked smug for a moment. 'I guess you're not old in every kind of experience,' she whispered.
He could feel himself blushing, and when he glanced around the ticket lady looked hastily away but kept her smile in place.
'Oh, I promise you that you will,' she said.
He felt like his grin was going to unzip his head. 'Make sure everybody keeps their word,' he cautioned.
'You bet,' she agreed. 'And we'll all leave the city as soon as we graduate, or sooner if you tell us to.' For a moment she looked worried. 'Take care of
yourself, John. And be careful.'
He smiled again.
'Yeah,' she said.
He gave her a quick but passionate kiss and boarded. He wasn't going to look back, but he couldn't help himself. He was glad he did; Wendy blew him a kiss.
Almost into Oregon, on the east side of Goose Lake, nestled beneath the spreading, green canopy of old- growth pines, was a small log cabin. It had one story, a stone chimney, and three rooms, one with a glass wall facing the lake as well as a state-of-the-art woodstove. It also boasted its own generator plus a slew of more esoteric gadgets. For a rustic log cabin it was amazingly twenty-first century.
Extending out into the lake nearby was a wooden pier; a small boat with an outboard motor was tied up at the far end. The pier was so low to the water that one could step aboard easily.
At the very end of the pier, seated in an aluminum chair with yellow plastic webbing, was a big man of about sixty. His gray hair was covered with a battered khaki hat decorated with fishhooks and a plastic badge that held a fishing and a hunting license. He wore tan shorts, white socks with sandals, and
a neon-orange shirt decorated with bright blue hibiscus blossoms and green hummingbirds.
In one hand he held a high-end rod and reel, the butt end resting on his thigh.
The other hand was curled in his lap; he appeared to be dozing. Beside him a can of beer sat atop a red- and-white cooler.
Dieter had been observing this tranquil scene for over two hours from various locations around the cabin. It appeared that there wasn't anybody around except for him and the old man. Which made a nice change. Several
