Rising Storm

'Who are you?' Sarah asked, trying to put a pleasant tone into the question.

The face was unfamiliar, though its shape rang a distant bell. His body seemed wrongly proportioned, with the limbs too short for the long torso. He was certainly much too short to be an agent. But he was truculent enough for a species of janitor she'd encountered one or two times in her life.

The appearance of a strange new face—and he was strange—shook her from her boredom like the scream of an air-raid siren. But it was the way he looked at her, his stillness as he blocked her way, that sent a chill down her spine and raised the hair on her neck.

* Subject Sarah Connor found,* the Terminator sent to the new base in Utah. *

Terminate?*

* Negative. Orders to watch subject remain in effect,* came the response.

The Terminator stepped back, its eyes still on Sarah.

She glanced at the narrow space that would allow her to pass and then back at the strange man. 'Who did you say you were?' she asked, making her voice hard.

'The janitor,' he answered. Then he turned and went back down the hallway.

She stood still after he was gone, breathing a little hard, like some-one who has faced a dangerous animal that had inexplicably decided not to attack. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

'O-kay,' she muttered through her teeth. 'That was interesting.'

Maybe he was a patient. Or maybe he was just a very weird little guy. And yet…

there was something about him. Her first impression had been that his face was unfamiliar; in fact, she knew she'd never seen him. But there was something about the way he moved, or rather, didn't.

H/s eyes, she decided. She'd seen eyes like that before. His eyes were dead, without emotion. There were men like that; God knew she'd met too many of them in her travels. But this man's eyes were especially cold.

At first she resisted the idea, wondering if her old madness—she was far enough from it now that she could admit that she had once been insane—was rearing its head in Silberman's presence. But over the years she'd trained herself to be honest, to look events in the face, even when a thing was painful, even when it was impossible.

His eyes were the eyes of a Terminator. As was his stillness, and something in his voice.

Her heart sped up, her mouth went dry while her palms grew moist; it was the old fear, the nightmare that kept coming back. Sarah felt the last of her resistance crumble under a sudden, sure knowledge; the female Terminator had left an ally behind, and it had found her. Like they always found her.

It hadn't attacked her on sight and she took hope from that. It had been less than a foot away from her, it could have torn her in half, but it hadn't.

It backed off. So what did that mean? It's hoping to make a clean sweep, she thought. It's hoping John will come to get me out of here.

Sarah bit her lip. She had to contact Jordan; he would get in touch with John and Dieter, warn them that she was under a more deadly surveillance than any the government was willing to throw at them.

Then, if possible, it was time for her to get out of here, before the Terminator was too firmly entrenched.

Well, Silberman said he believed me, that he wanted to help me. This is as good a time as any to take him up on it. But carefully. His sudden desire to be helpful could easily be a trap. She wouldn't put it past the good doctor to be trying to get some evidence that her obsession was still alive.

If only he knew how gladly I'd give it up.

Sarah headed for the doctor's office. Waiting wasn't going to make things any

simpler.

She tapped on the door and entered when he called out his permission.

Silberman looked up and flinched as he always did when he first found himself alone with her. That she still scared him somewhat pleased her. She knew it shouldn't, but it did. He had, after all, given her a very rough time.

'Oh, hello, Sarah,' he said, smiling pleasantly.

Long training had helped him to recover quickly, but he knew she'd seen his fear. It annoyed him that she affected him this way, but she'd hurt him so many times. She'd broken his arm, driven a pen through his knee, and threatened to kill him in a particularly horrible way. It was hard to forget things like that, no matter how professional you were.

Sarah stepped in, closing the door behind her, then came to stand before his desk, looking shy. 'I was wondering if I might ask a favor?'

Silberman leaned back. 'Of course, Sarah. What did you want to ask me?'

Inside, excitement twisted his stomach. This could be it.

'I'm nervous as a cat today,' she said, looking down at his desk. 'It feels like the walls are closing in on me.' She looked up suddenly. 'I was wondering, if I could arrange it, if it would be all right for me to go out to dinner with Jordan Dyson.'

The doctor's face jerked into a grimace. 'You know the rules, Sarah,' he said.

'Any visits or excursions have to be cleared at least one day before they're to take place. I can't just go around making exceptions, you know.'

So much for your generous offer of help, she thought. 'You'd be welcome to come with us,' she offered. 'I think you'd find Jordan a very interesting man.

He's a former FBI agent and Miles Dyson's younger brother. Miles Dyson was the project manager killed at… Cyberdyne.'

'Oh really,' Silberman said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. He'd read about Dyson's interest in Sarah Connor, but he hadn't understood it. This would be an excellent opportunity to find out why he was being so helpful to the woman who had killed his brother.

'Dr. Ray had several sessions with him,' Sarah said.

Silberman blinked at that. He had to admit that he felt a certain rivalry with the younger doctor. If Ray thought it worthwhile to speak to this Jordan Dyson, perhaps he should see why. 'Well,' he said thoughtfully, 'perhaps we could categorize this as a sort of informal therapy session.'

Sarah smiled. 'Thank you, Doctor. I'll go and call him, see what arrangements we can make.' Sarah turned at the door to look at him. 'I appreciate this,' she said.

IBC OFFICES

'Hey, Paul,' Consigli said, bustling into the anonymous rented office wired like the 'after' picture in a cocaine commercial. 'Looks like we're taking this show on the road!'

Delfino looked up from the hand of solitaire he was playing, thankful for a chance to stop struggling with the bus tickets luck was dealing him.

'Connor just asked the doc if she could go out to dinner with Dyson.'

'Exxxcellent!' Paul Delfino said. 'I could use a change of scenery. I'll go get the van.'

CAFE VERICE, LOS ANGELES

Jordan saw them enter from the bar and went to meet them. Sarah reached out her hand, smiling. He took it and pulled her to him, enveloping her in a one-armed hug. Then he turned to the doctor, keeping his arm around Sarah's shoulders.

'This is Dr. Silberman,' Sarah said.

Jordan reached out his left hand and the doctor took it awkwardly. Before they could speak the maitre d'hotel approached them, menus in hand, and gestured toward the dining room.

'Oops.' Jordan put his hand on his midsection. 'That's my beeper. Would you excuse me for a moment?' he asked.

In the corridor next to the rest rooms was a pay phone. As he made his way toward it Jordan opened the note Sarah had slipped him.