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.Even two miles away from the slaughter site was much tooclose.Soon, if there was a relocation camp, Skynet would have them send out searchers.And when thenumber of bodies didn't match their manifest, they'd go looking for survivors.It was too close to danger, but it had still been a long haul for the kids and the wounded.Two miles is along way to carry the deadweight of a wounded man or woman, especially on cobbled togetherstretchers.But Alaskans were a hardy bunch and they'd managed it with a minimum of fuss.Though it had left him feeling naked, John had given his shotgun to a man who claimed to be a championshot and a "damn good hunter." He handed out a brace of hand grenades to the military types.Itprobably wouldn't do them much actual good, but it was better than nothing and therefore good formoral.Then he'd left them, promising to send help.Which he'd done as soon as he could get to one of theirencrypted satellite relays.It might be a full day before that help arrived, but trucks and medical help wereon the way.John hoped someone would be there for his friends to find.They were good people.Wearily he broughthis feet down from the desk.Time to go to work , he thought.He glanced at the phased plasma rifle he'dtaken from a Terminator.Time to get the resistance and himself rolling.These rifles, so handily providedby Skynet, would kill Terminators.Although he was certain that these easily destroyed first attemptswould quickly be replaced by vastly more formidable models, thousands of them.He picked up the plasma rifle.Ike's gonna love this , he thought.Until I tell him he has to relocate tomanufacture 'em.CHAPTER TWELVEALASKAI love this thing!" Ike Chamberlain said with the enthusiasm of a six-year-old on Christmas morning."This plasma rifle isso cool!"The sound came clearly through the speaker in the communications bunker, albeit it had a slightly flattone the machine was taking the compressed digital packets and reconstructing them, which inevitablymeant a slight loss of tone.It wasmore easily understandable than ordinary speech, though, if anything.Love this gear, John thought, giving it an affectionate pat; the operator matched his grin.Thank you,Dieter.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlRound-log walls and the smell of damp earth did make a bit of a contrast with the smooth surfaces anddigital readouts.So did the kerosene lamp hanging from the ceiling, adding its scents of burning fuel andhot metal.Efficient though , he thought; besides saving power, it helped keep the temperaturecomfortable, and it could burn wood alcohol at a pinch.Now, this is going to require careful manipulation, John Connor thought, and went on aloud: "That'sgreat, Ike.But can you make it?""Oh, I can make it all right.I can even improve on it, elegant as it is.The design's optimized forTerminators I can cut the weight by a kilo, kilo and a half, without losing significant function.What Ican't do is manufacture it."Dismayed, John sat up straight."What?""I lack the machinery and the raw materials, not to mention the personnel to mass-produce 'em.Donnaand I will bang out as many of these as we can.But until you can get me those three things, well, we'vegot a bottleneck."No kidding, John thought.He'd sent the captured plasma rifles down to the gunsmith's home in California with a trusted courierthree days ago and had been anxious to see what Ike would make of them.Chamberlain's enthusiasmwas no surprise.He'd been working on this project, off and on, for about three years now, usinginformation John had culled from a Terminator's scavenged head.But the machine had somehowcompromised the information, leaving them hopelessly stymied.Now, at last, here was real progress."I don't suppose I could finagle you and Donna into coming up here to set it up?" John said.There was a long silence, where he'd expected an instant refusal.John frowned and waited.If hissuggestion was being seriously considered, he didn't want to derail Ike's train of thought."I might just do that, John," the gunsmith said at last."It's bad down here," he admitted."Much worsethan we imagined it would be.And you know we didn't paint ourselves any rosy pictures." He was silentfor a little while."Carol made it home last week," he said."That's great!" John said.Ike and Donna's son , Joe, had almost certainly been at ground zero when thebombs dropped.It had been a safe assumption that their daughter, Carol, was as well.Connor had neverasked about either of them because their deaths were almost a sure thing.That one of them had made ithome was a miracle."Said she saw your mother on the TV, grabbed what she could, and ran for it.Had her stepson andSam, her husband, with her.What took them so long to make it this far was, the army rounded 'em upand put 'em in a relocation camp.They separated the families," Ike said."Men in one place, women andchildren in another.But Carol busted 'em out."You could hear the proud smile in his voice, and John smiled, too.Every life saved was important [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]