Terminator Salvation: From the Ashes by Timothy Zahn Page A

leads.
    “It fits the place better than Moldavia Los Angeles,” he said. “Who are you?”
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    “My name’s Nguyen,” the man said, nodding back over his shoulder at the first of the two men who’d come up behind him. “This is Vuong, my second. We’re from Chuck Randall at Keeper’s Point.”
    “Are you, now,” Orozco said, feeling his tension ease a bit. But only a bit. Nguyen had the names right, but there were a hundred ways he could have come by them. “How come Randall didn’t come himself?”
    “He’s not traveling much these days,” Nguyen said grimly. “Lost his right leg below the knee two months ago. Something new Skynet’s started putting in the rivers.”
    “A new model Terminator?”
    Nguyen shrugged. “All we know is that it’s metal, travels in water, and has lots of big teeth. No one’s gotten a pedigree for it yet.”
    “Not to be rude, but could we possibly take this inside?” Vuong put in, throwing a look northward past Nguyen’s shoulder.
    “What’s your hurry?” Orozco asked.
    “A mile or so back we spotted a group of nasties paralleling us a few blocks to the north,”
    Nguyen said. “Eight to ten of them, all heavily armed. I don’t know if they spotted us, or if they’re even planning on turning in this direction, but we’d just as soon be out of sight before either of those things can happen.”
    Orozco grimaced. More swaggering young men with guns who would need to be taught to stay away from his building. Just what he needed.
    “We’re almost done,” he assured Vuong. “So if Randall really sent you, he must have told you who you’d be dealing with”
    “Yes, after a fashion.” Nguyen’s lips tightened. “But then, he also told us to look for the Moldavia Los Angeles. Obviously, losing his leg hasn’t affected his sense of humor.”
    “Apparently not,” Orozco said, a little more of the tension easing. Only someone who knew Randall would also know what sorts of things the man found funny. “So who did he send you here to see?”
    “He just told us to ask for Auntie Em,” Nguyen said. He frowned. “I don’t suppose…that’s not you, is it?”
    “Hardly,” Orozco said as the last remnant of tension faded quietly away. That had been his and Randall’s private joke, one the grizzled farmer had come up with the last time he was here. “Go ahead and bring your people and animals inside—we’ve got a room over to your right past the fountain where you can put them.”
    “Thank you,” Nguyen said, making no effort to take Orozco up on his invitation. “But even a private joke has two sides.”
    “In other words, how do you know I’m the one Randall said you could trust?” Orozco asked.
    “Correct.” Nguyen inclined his head slightly. “No offense.”
    “None taken,” Orozco assured him, his estimation of the man going up a notch. That kind of caution, that refusal to ever take anything for granted, was how you stayed alive these days. “Here’s Auntie Em.”
    He hoisted his rifle to point at the ceiling, giving Nguyen a full profile view of the weapon.
    “Nguyen, say hello to Auntie Em. Auntie M16, say hello to Mr. Nguyen.”
    Nguyen gave a slightly twisted smile.
    “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Em,” he said. “I take it, then, that you must be Ms. Em’s keeper and guardian, Mad Sergeant Justo Orozco?”
    “Call me Huss,” Orozco said, beckoning to Kyle and Star. “This is Kyle and Star,” he added as the two kids rose from their concealment and started across the lobby. “They’ll help you get your burros inside and unloaded.”
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    “Ah…you may have slightly misunderstood our intentions,” Nguyen said carefully. “We’re not necessarily planning to sell all of our goods to you.”
    “I understand that,” Orozco said. “But given the late hour, and given that the Ashes is the safest place around, I’d hoped you would accept our hospitality for the night.”
    For a moment Nguyen studied Orozco’s face. Then, he