by Timothy Zahn
“No, they weren’t being kidnapped,” Orozco assured the teen as he took back the Remington. “They left entirely of their own free will.”
“Should I have tried to stop them?” Kyle persisted, clearly still concerned that he’d failed in his assigned duty. Maybe he was assuming Orozco’s frustration was directed at him. “Maybe pinned them down until you could get there? I didn’t hear any shots, but there were all those others with them—”
“Kyle, you did fine,” Orozco said firmly, resting a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Just relax, okay? I’m just sorry you didn’t get a chance to meet them.”
“Okay,” Kyle said, still sounding a little uncertain, as Orozco led the way back under the archway into their building. “Who were they, anyway?”
“Resistance recruiters,” Orozco told him. “They—”
“They were Resistance?” Kyle interrupted sharply, an unreadable expression on his face.
“That’s what they said,” Orozco answered, taken aback by the unexpected intensity of the boy’s reaction. “Why? Did you recognize any of them?”
Kyle looked away.
“No,” he said, his voice back under control again. “I just... wondered.”
“Ah,” Orozco said, letting the subject drop and looking around the lobby. Barney and Copeland, who had ostensibly been guarding the entrance, and who had really been put there to draw down on Barnes’s men, had of course disappeared with the rest of Grimaldi’s crowd.
“I guess you and I are on guard duty,” he commented to Kyle. “Unless you need to get some sleep.”
“I’m okay,” Kyle said, looking at Star. “So’s Star.” He peered closely at Orozco. “You’re the one who needs sleep.”
“I’ll be fine until Johnson and Baker show up for their shift.” Orozco handed the Remington back to Kyle. “Go put this away, if you would, and get me the M16.”
Kyle nodded and headed for the arms locker, Star trailing as always behind him.
Orozco watched them go, a dark heaviness settling in around his heart. Of all the people in their sorry little community, Kyle and Star were the ones who should have gone with Barnes’s group. They were the ones who could have been of the most value to the Resistance’s war against Skynet.
But Barnes was gone, and Orozco didn’t have the faintest idea where to go looking for him. Even if he had, he didn’t think he would appreciate having someone trying to chase him down, what with Skynet and the whole world right there watching.
Still, the universe was a crazy place. Maybe Kyle and Star would have another chance someday.
Kyle was swapping out the Remington for the M16 when Orozco spotted movement across the lobby. It was Nguyen, heading toward him, his expression ominously rigid.
Orozco winced. Nguyen and his fellow traders had been conspicuous by their absence during Tunney’s big sales pitch and Grimaldi’s botched attempt to show him up, but Orozco had no doubt they’d been listening closely to the proceedings. From the look on his face, it was a safe bet that the man had some piquant things to say about the whole fiasco.
Things Kyle and Star probably didn’t need to hear.
“Thanks,” Orozco said as Kyle handed him the M16. “You and Star never got breakfast this morning, did you?”
“Not really,” Kyle said.
“Neither did I,” Orozco said. “Why don’t you go see what Bessie’s got going in the kitchen. And bring me some back, too.”
Kyle glanced over his shoulder at Nguyen.
“Okay,” the teen said. Nodding to Star, he headed across the lobby toward the kitchen.
Nguyen watched them go, and it seemed to Orozco that he perhaps slowed down his pace a bit. Maybe he didn’t want the kids hearing this, either.
“Morning,” Orozco said, nodding politely at Nguyen as he came into conversational range.
“And to you,” Nguyen replied. “Interesting morning it’s been, too. May I ask what in the name of hell and all its little demons you and Chief Grimaldi thought you were doing?”
“Actually, that was all Chief Grimaldi’s idea,” Orozco said, eyeing Nguyen closely as an odd thought suddenly struck him. If Kyle and Star couldn’t go with Barnes and Kate Connor...
“In that case, it would appear that Chief Grimaldi has lost his mind,” Nguyen said. “You’ll excuse us if we don’t bother to make our formal farewells before we go.” He lifted a hand, and across the lobby the rest of the traders appeared, Nguyen’s second-in-command Vuong in the lead, with the group’s harnessed burros trailing closely behind them.
“I understand completely,” Orozco said. “But before you go, I have one last deal to offer.”
“We don’t deal with madmen, Orozco,” Nguyen said bluntly. “Anyone who pulls weapons on a Resistance group—”
“You won’t be dealing with madmen,” Orozco cut him off. “This is my deal, not Grimaldi’s. All I want is for you to take a couple of our kids back to the farm with you.”
Nguyen shook his head.
“Impossible. We can barely grow enough for ourselves and for necessary trade.”
“They could work,” Orozco offered. “Both of them.”
“We already have as many people as we have work for them to do,” Nguyen said. “There’s no more farmable land in our area.”
“But there will be someday,” Orozco persisted. “The soil is detoxifying as the short-life radioactives disintegrate. It’s happening here—it must be happening out there, too.”
“The radioactivity may be fading, but the soil is still contaminated with dangerous levels of heavy metals,” Nguyen said. “We have some techniques for clearing them out, but they’re slow. We’re still years away from more arable soil.”
“What if I paid their room and board until you had work for them to do?”
Nguyen snorted. “With what?”
Orozco braced himself. “Gasoline.”
Nguyen seemed to draw back, his expression changing subtly.
“I thought Chief Grimaldi made all gasoline deals personally.”
“I’m making this one,” Orozco said. “You interested? Yes or no?”
Nguyen glanced around the lobby.
“How much are we talking about?”
“All of it,” Orozco said, feeling his pulse thudding in his neck, the words treason and betrayal whispering in his ears. “I’ll take you to our cache and show you the secret of how to get in without killing yourselves. In return, you’ll take Kyle and Star out of the city and keep them safe.”
“No one can promise safety,” Nguyen said. “Not these days.”
“Then you promise to keep them as safe as you can,” Orozco said. “And you pledge Randall to do the same.”
Nguyen hissed thoughtfully between his teeth.
“You know I can’t make a pledge for another,” he reminded Orozco. “But for gasoline, I think he’ll be willing.” He paused. “And for Mad Sergeant Orozco. Very well, it’s a deal. How soon can our new charges be ready?”
“They can be ready very quickly,” Orozco said. “Unfortunately, I still have some preparations to make for them, and I’ll need a couple of hours for that.”
“Which I presume you can’t do while you’re on guard duty.”
“Correct,” Orozco said. “Still, everything should be ready by mid-afternoon.”
Nguyen pursed his lips, studying Orozco’s face. Doubtless wondering whether the promise of free gasoline was worth the price of staying within Grimaldi’s reach for all those extra hours.
“I doubt the early afternoon will be nearly as interesting as the morning has been,” he said at last. “Very well, we’ll stay.”
“Thank you,” Orozco said. “I’ll get it done as quickly as I can.”
“Yes,” Nguyen said. “In the meantime, I trust you won’t mind if we do a little trading elsewhere in the neighborhood?”
Mentally, Orozco threw the man a salute. How to stay out of Grimaldi’s reach while still making the deal with Orozco, in one ea
sy lesson.
“Not at all,” he assured the trader. “Just be back by mid-afternoon.”
The traders were gone by the time Kyle and Star returned with a small bowl of something.
“Breakfast was all gone,” Kyle said as he handed over the bowl. “But she said we could have some of the soup she was working on for dinner.”
“Thanks,” Orozco said, sniffing at the bowl. The soup looked thin, but it smelled pretty good. “And now you two need to get some sleep. I’m going to have a special assignment for you later this afternoon.”
“What kind of assignment?” Kyle asked.
“The kind that you’ll need to be rested for,” Orozco said evasively. Eventually, of course, he would have to give them the whole truth. But not yet. Not yet. “So get going.”
“Okay.” Touching Star’s arm, Kyle turned and headed toward their sleeping mats.
Orozco lowered himself to the floor against his favorite pillar, settling himself into guard position, already feeling the fresh hole in his life. Kyle and Star were the best and the brightest Moldering Lost Ashes had to offer. They were also the closest thing to friends he still had. A few hundred gallons of gasoline was a small price to pay to buy their safety.
And it wasn’t like the gasoline was going to do anyone in Moldering Lost Ashes any good. Not once the Terminators came through.
Cradling his M16 across his arms, Orozco settled down to watch. And to think.
***
The building David had found was decrepit, drafty, and made largely from discarded drywall, which meant the place would be pretty uncomfortable in a serious rainstorm.
It had also been recently occupied, Connor noted as the group began unloading and sorting their equipment. Briefly, he wondered what the chances were that the former inhabitants might return and try to reclaim the place. That could be awkward, not to mention noisy.
But aside from that, the place was ideal. It was unobtrusive, it had a back door they could use in an emergency, and it was only four blocks from the Skynet staging area.
“Is this your headquarters?” one of the new people, Leon Iliaki, asked as he gave the place a dubious look.
“No, it’s just a temporary base,” Connor assured him. “We’ll be moving to better quarters in a couple of days.”
“Once we’re there, we’ll start your combat training,” Tunney added as he walked past with an ammo box under each arm.
One of the other newcomers, Callahan, stirred.
“Why wait?” he asked.
Connor eyed him. Usually new recruits needed a day or two to get their bearings. “You want to get started now?” he asked.
“What else are you going to do with us?” Callahan countered. “I mean, unless you’ve got some other work we can do.” He hunched his shoulders uncomfortably. “I don’t like the idea of eating someone else’s food without working for it.”
“Very commendable,” Connor complimented him. “There’s certainly enough work back at our main base. Unfortunately, we’ve got a mission coming up soon, and I can’t spare anyone to escort you back there just now.”
“Is it a mission in this neighborhood?” Leon Iliaki asked.
“The general neighborhood, yes,” Connor confirmed.
Callahan hunched his shoulders again. “Then all the more reason for us to learn as much about fighting as we can,” he said, his voice quavering a little. “This is where our friends are. We need to do whatever we can to help them.”
“Unless you can’t spare anyone for that, either,” Carol Iliaki offered hesitantly. “You seem awfully busy.”
“We are, a bit,” Connor confirmed. “But we’re never too busy to teach people who are ready to learn.”
Callahan glanced at Leon Iliaki, then at Zac, then back at Connor.
“In that case, I guess we’re ready,” he said.
“I am, too,” Carol Iliaki said.
Her husband looked at her in surprise.
“You’re not here to fight,” he protested. “You’re here to sew.”
“I doubt the Terminators will care where I stand in the table of organization,” she reminded him, her eyes on Connor. “Am I correct, Mr. Connor?”
“Your husband’s right about your primary duty,” Connor replied. “But you’re also right in that everyone needs to know at least the basics of combat. Tunney? Over to you.”
“Got it,” Tunney said. “Let me stow these boxes, and I’ll be right with you.”
“He’ll take you in hand,” Connor told the recruits. “Learn well.”
“We will,” Callahan promised. “Thank you.”
Connor nodded and moved off, long experience allowing him to cut through the apparent chaos swirling around him and assess each person and task with a single glance.
Some of the men and women had already completed their work, and while a few of them were taking a moment to rest or grab a quick bite, most were gathering around the table where Tunney had laid out the maps Connor and David had made of the Skynet staging area. Connor’s eyes flicked across that group, then shifted over to the corner where Kate was organizing her medical supplies.
He frowned, studying her more closely. A dark and serious look had settled onto his wife’s face, a look that couldn’t be wholly explained by the magnitude of the task facing them.
Interestingly enough, as Connor again glanced around the room he noted that Barnes had an almost identical look on his face. And Barnes never worried about the jobs Connor took them on.
Which, of course, made it obvious.
Connor waited until Barnes happened to glance in his direction. Then, crooking his finger to the man, Connor headed toward Kate.
She looked up as the two men approached.
“Everything set?” she asked.
“Still working out a few details,” Connor told her. “How about you?”
“I’ve just started, really.” She waved a hand toward the bandages, antiseptics, and painkillers laid neatly out around her. “Since we’re going for speed and maneuverability, I thought I’d try consolidating most of the supplies into one bag per squad, with only small personal packs for each individual soldier.”
“Freeing up more carrying capacity for ammo and munitions,” Connor said, nodding. “I assume you’ll be giving the big bags to the people with the best medical training?”
Kate nodded. “I was thinking Vincennes, Sung, one of the Tantillo brothers—probably Tony—and Simmons. And of course, I’ll be here as backup.”
“Sounds good,” Connor said. “Now, you want to tell me what has you and Barnes so bothered?”
Kate threw a slightly furtive look at Barnes.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she hedged.
Which was more or less the answer Connor had expected. Kate never liked questioning his orders or decisions, especially not in front of the others.
“How about you?” Connor asked, turning to Barnes.
Barnes, fortunately or unfortunately, had little of Kate’s reticence and none of her diplomacy.
“I don’t like using all these civilians as bait,” he said flatly. “Especially the people in that last place— Orozco’s group.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Connor asked.
“We’re going to wait until all the T-600s leave and start shooting up the neighborhood before we move in, right?” Barnes countered.
“Would you rather we attack the warehouse with the T-600s still inside?” Connor asked.
Barnes scowled. “No,” he muttered. “But I still don’t like it.”
“There are a lot of children in there,” Kate added quietly.
Connor raised his eyebrows. “Did you offer everyone the chance to come with us?”
Kate sighed. “Yes,” she said. “You saw how many accepted.”
“So we made an offer, and were mostly refused,” Connor said. “We also found them a potential escape route, the drainage tunnel you went in through, which they can use if they want to.”
>
“Except that Grimaldi’s probably already welded it shut,” Barnes said with a sniff.
“Again, their choice,” Connor said. “There’s really not much else we can do for them.”
“Yeah, but Grimaldi’s the one making all the decisions,” Barnes protested. “The people aren’t.”
“The people made the decision to accept him as their leader,” Connor reminded him.
“I suppose,” Kate said.
Connor looked at Barnes. He grimaced, but gave a reluctant nod.
“Yeah,” he seconded.
“Then let’s get back to work,” Connor said, looking back and forth between them. “Barnes, Tunney’s starting basic with our new recruits. As soon as you’ve finished stowing your gear, I’d like you to give him a hand.”
“Sure,” Barnes said. Nodding to Kate, he headed back across the room.
Connor looked at Kate. “You okay?”
“As okay as I am with anything these days,” she said, her voice a mixture of tension and sadness. “I’m sorry, John—I don’t mean to be questioning your decisions. It was just—all those children—”
“I know,” Connor said quietly. “But you have to try to put them out of your mind, along with all the rest of the misery and injustice that’s out there.” He touched her shoulder. “Focus on the fact that our primary job is to survive long enough to destroy Skynet, so that people won’t ever have to die this way again.”
Kate gave him a faint smile. “I know. Thanks for reminding me.”
Connor smiled back, and turned away. Well, that’s them convinced, he thought as he headed over to join the group at the maps.
Now, the only one he still had to convince was himself.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Kyle?”
The teen started awake, chagrined by the sudden realization that he had, in fact, been asleep. That hadn’t been his plan, certainly not with Orozco handling guard duty all alone. He must have been more tired than he’d realized.
Way more tired, in fact, he realized as he peered through half-open eyes out into the street. Nguyen and the other traders were standing outside the archway, and even in the limited sunlight making its way through the overcast sky he could see enough shadow to tell that it was at least a couple of hours past noon. He’d not only slept the morning away, but a good part of the afternoon, too.
