There are still a lot of things Cameron cannot comprehend. She is unsure if John can comprehend these things- if these are things that John knows, or if the young teenager who will one day become the designer of her intelligence is also unsure. Given her creator's emotional state resulting actions, Cameron assumes the latter.
Although Sarah and John are not particularly religious humans, Cameron knows about God. Once in a while during the war, she and General Connor, her creator, commander, and master, the one her current charge calls, "Future John," would stumble through the black husk of a church while out on a mission. One night they had spent several hours alone together in the blown out basement of something General Connor had called a Cathedral. The General had lain his broad torso across an oaken bench and she had brought the cloth from some high central table to bandage his torn shoulder. After the bleeding had stopped and General Connor had fallen asleep, Cameron had gazed up at a half charred carving of a dying man fixed to some sort of post. The sculpture's agonized face had looked down on the General's sleeping form- an eternal wooden stare of tortured wisdom. It was the first time Cameron had ever seen the image of the human God- of John's creator. The human creator was a tortured thing- horrifically so, and the humans themselves seemed to live in equal pain. Yet the humans trusted this God, or were supposed to anyways. She had heard many hushed whispers between humans and each other to their creator in the trenches at night. The wooden man God was all knowing and loved them and so they were to trust and obey. Did the dying man from the carving watch over the humans as they fought their way through the war-torn earth? Did he watch over her creator, John? Did he love John? Did the General love her?
Cameron knows even General Connor does not know everything. Looking at her creator the way he is now, a lean, rebellious, inexperieinced man-boy-child, it is even more strikingly obvious that John is hardly infallible, and yet it is only recently that Cameron has begun to question his role towards her. Like the humans, Cameron had always naturally assumed her creator had cared about and for her throughout her inception, design, construction, and her working life. And up until recently she had never been given any reason to question this- it had been simple fact. When Cameron's right eye began malfunctioning after a particularly hard hit from an enemy sentinel, General Connor had painstakingly cleaned the socket and repaired the miniscule parts with a tweezer and a watchmaker's magnifying glass. When she had returned from a recon mission one night with a dislocated hip, General Connor had immediately disbanded the strategy meeting taking place to attend to her injury. He had never once allowed another engineer or programmer to work on her, and he had never treated her as though she were replaceable or could be duplicated. John's had been the first face she had seen upon waking from her reprogramming during Armageddon. Their bond is more complex than the simple fact that General had existed before he had recreated her as Cameron, and would, in all likelihood, continue to exist when she had served her purpose- Cameron had never doubted that her creator cared for her and would ultimately do right by her. Until now.
