The John Connor Chronicles: Aftershocks

Chapter 1: Adjustments.

…

I don't own the Terminator franchise. Okay? We clear? Good. Onward.

…

"Derek, that's enough." Sarah's voice carried in the confined space of the SUV. "That's about the hundredth time you've said John made a bad decision. Enough of it, already." She was driving them back to the house they were currently calling their home.

"Well, you know it's true," said Derek, glancing sideways at Cameron, who was watching him very carefully. John had refused to destroy her when he had the chance…and Derek was being very vocal about his opinion on the matter. "I don't care what she 'promised,' she is a machine. And, moreover, she's a Terminator. They're not called that for no reason!"

"Uncle Derek." John's voice also carried in the confined space. "Let it drop. Just…let it drop, okay? It's done. Over with."

Back at the house, Sarah parked the SUV in the garage, waiting until the automatic doors had closed. Then she got her pistol, made sure it was loaded, and grabbed two extra magazines. "I'll go run a check. The rest of you wait here."

"Let me go," said Cameron, starting to open her door.

"No. I'll go. Derek, you stay here with them. If I'm not back in ten minutes, get them out of here."

"Got it," grumbled Derek, obviously unhappy. But he understood her reasoning: she didn't trust Cameron, and wanted Derek in the car in case Cameron suddenly decided to implement her "terminate" program. Of the two of them, she knew Derek would be the most alert, and the most capable of stopping a murderous Cameron.

The silence in the car was so intense that Derek coughed, not because he needed to, but just to make some kind of sound.

Sarah reappeared at the doorway, signaling them to come in. They filed out, with John waiting for Cameron to go into the house, and Derek bringing up the rear. "John," said his mother, "I think we need to talk."

John's bedroom: "Okay, I guess I'll start it off. Why, John? I think we can both agree that what you did does need some explaining."

He sat by her on the bed. "Mom…I'm honestly not sure why I did it. I, I just knew…I couldn't pull the plug on her, that's all."

"You do know she's a Terminator, right? Not a girl. She's a machine, John. That's what makes her so dangerous."

"I know, mom, and I know you don't approve of what I did-*"

"I didn't say that," Sarah Conner replied evenly. "I asked you why you felt you had to do what you did."

He looked at her in surprise. His mother had been on the run from the killer robots for his entire life. "You…think I did the right thing?"

"I didn't say that, either. I did want you to tell me your reasons for not destroying her. Right before you yourself pulled her chip she was telling you she loved you, and that you loved her. Is that true? On your part, I mean."

"Do I love her? Mom, I'm not crazy. She's a machine, like you said…" But he didn't sound very convincing, even to himself.

He does love her. This complicates things. "Alright. I suppose that'll have to do, for now." Especially as long as you're in denial about your real feelings. "But I think it only makes common sense for us to be careful, don't you?"

"Yeah. I know. Mom, I…I can't get her out of my mind. I mean, was that just a Terminator trick? Or…or was she telling the truth?" She saw the confused boy he was right then, and silently cursed SkyNET and all Terminators in general, that they should put her boy through these trials.

But she had to admit, he could easily be going through the exact same trials with a human girl. The Terminators were cybernetic copies of human beings, after all. She knew that women occasionally—make that often-played to a man's feelings, especially for personal gain. And, back in that garage, Cameron had been begging for her life. Of course she'd say anything…just like a human would. "John. I know you won't want to hear this, but you know she's lied to you—to us all—in the past. She is a machine, after all, and she can only do what she's programmed to do. They don't have any human sense of morality. I know you want me to tell you differently, but the odds are against it." He looked so downcast that she put her arm around him. "John, look. I don't know what's going on here. Obviously, something went wrong with her programming, or she wouldn't have come after you like that. And something else is still going on, or she wouldn't have relented. Machines, after all, are consistent. You may not like this comparison, but if your car works one way on Sunday and another on Monday, without you doing anything to it in the meantime, then something's clearly askew. So until we know more, we'll have to consider her as being on probation. It would be stupid to do any less."

He sighed. "I know, mom. I know."

Cameron's room: Sarah entered cautiously. The T-715 sat on the edge of her (its) bed, apparently waiting for her. "Cameron. We have some things to discuss."

"Yes, Sarah. I know."

"I'll bet you do." Be calm, Sarah. This is not a human girl, who acted rashly or emotionally. She's a Terminator, and whatever she did, it had to be a part of her programming, in some way. In a way, she's really not to blame for that. "Suppose we start off with you telling me what happened to you. Why did you try to kill John?"

Cameron looked up at her, and Sarah was struck by how human she seemed. It was a near-perfect imitation. "I don't know. The last thing I remember is the explosion at the traffic light. Then…I have no memory of anything until I was reactivated, and saw John holding a gun on me. I wondered why." She looked away, as though remembering. "He asked me if I was going to kill him. The 'terminate' order was present in my programming, on my head's-up display. But something happened. Something overrode it. And…I am not sure what.

"I have run multiple diagnostics on myself, trying to ascertain the reason for the gap in my memory, or why the 'terminate' command should suddenly become active. The results have been…indeterminate. There are lines of code in my matrix that I cannot account for." She looked back at Sarah. "I tried to kill John?"

"Yes. Before that, when you were pinned between two vehicles, and John was about to pull your chip, you begged him not to. You said you loved him, and that he loved you. You put him through a horrible experience, Cameron. He's still a bit traumatized."

Cameron was silent. Then, "Why did you let him reactivate me? It would seem more logical to destroy me, as I gathered you were going to."

"He surprised us, and pulled a gun on us, Cameron. That was just before you rebooted. And he's still not too sure why he did that. But I am."

Cameron stared at her for a minute. Sarah could have sworn that the machine was shocked by what she'd said. "He pulled a gun on you? Why?"

"To keep us from destroying you."

"But why would he not-*"

"Because," Sarah said, smoothly overriding Cameron's statement, "my son is in love with you. You know this. I know this. Derek knows this. The only person who doesn't know is John. And the only reason he doesn't know it is because he's basically in denial.

"And, in all fairness, it wouldn't be any different if you were totally biological, Cameron. Boys his age, when confronted with feelings they aren't fully comfortable with, tend to deny they have them. So, yeah, he's gonna say no way, he's not in love with you. Of course he'll say that.

"But I know better."

Cameron looked down at her hands. Sarah wondered where the T-715 had picked up that gesture. "I understand your concerns. I'll leave, and I'll make sure that he will be unable to find-*"

"Cameron. That wasn't what I was saying at all. The whole point of this conversation has been me trying to determine how you feel about my son." She came over and sat by Cameron. "For the record, I don't…completely disapprove of his love for you."

Cameron looked at Sarah with what could only be described as a kind of startlement. "I don't understand."

"Good."

…..

"Can't buh-leeve you," said Derek. He was currently chopping up lettuce for a salad. Sarah thought his chops were a little too enthusiastic. That head of lettuce had never done him any harm. "You basically gave the green light for that thing to, to…" He couldn't finish. The two were in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

"I didn't give anybody any green lights. I told Cameron we'd need to run our own diagnostics, since even she isn't sure what happened. And she completely agrees. And I told her to stay away from John, until we can figure out what happened. She completely agrees with that, too."

Derek just shook his head as he continued to chop. That was going to be one very finely chopped salad, thought Sarah. "I thought you were smarter than that. Don't you see what's happening? Yeah, okay: the kid's in love with the metal. Just like she planned all along, I'm sure. And then when we least expect it…"

"She's had ample opportunities before, Derek. I'm fairly sure this was an accident. Something happened to her programming…"

"It's not her programming that I'm worried about. It's his. He's a teenager. He's thinking with his glands. And yeah, the form that metal's wearing is hot. That's not coincidence. I mean, if you were going to program a killbot to assassinate him, could you do a better job?"

"I certainly could. Derek, if Cameron's been sent here to kill John, then she's remarkable inept at it. I mean, she's been with us for what? Two years now? And he's still alive. She's even saved his life on occasion. So either she's abysmally incompetent—or she's really programmed to protect him. Or…maybe there's some other factor at work."

"And he's falling in love with her. Good God, Sarah, you can't tell me you approve of that!"

"Not saying I do or I don't. But, just for the record, let's see." Sarah stood up from the sink, washing her hands. She leaned back against the counter and began to count off on her fingers. "There was Stacy, two years ago. She thought he had money. Remember how heartbroken he was when she dumped him? She wasn't even very nice about it. Then there was Rhonda. I thank God every night that didn't go anywhere. HIV is nothing to sneeze at. Then there was-*"

"Okay, okay, I get it. You don't have to be a killer robot to be dangerous. But she's unstable! If I woke up one morning and tried to kill you, then passed out, woke up, and had changed my mind, wouldn't you break the sound barrier getting away from this crazy person? I would. And we're talking about a crazy Terminator here. Yeah, organics can be just as dangerous, but she's an unnecessary risk! How can you not see that?"

Because she's necessary to me. "Derek. It doesn't matter. What I've said-*"

"Sarah?" Cameron had appeared in the doorway, dressed her usual jeans and top. "Can we begin the diagnostics?"

"Awfully eager to have your brain poked," Derek snorted

Cameron turned to him. "I believe the expression is, 'I should have my head examined.' In my case, that's the literal truth."

Sarah watched the conversation between them. Cameron did seem a bit on edge. "We'll set up after dinner, Cameron. But I am curious: like Derek said, you seem awfully ready for this. I can't help but wonder why?"

"Because," said Cameron, with absolutely no change of expression whatsoever, "I believe I may be insane."

Derek and Sarah looked at each other.

….

Later: John had joined them as they laid out the instruments they'd use to diagnose Cameron. "Now, tell me again, Cameron. Why did you say you might be insane?"

Cameron was lying on the table. To John, it looked like she was so…helpless. Face it, John. You care about her. He'd made it a point to be there. He didn't trust Derek around a vulnerable Cameron. Derek's antagonism towards "the metal" was the stuff of legends. It would be really easy for him to "slip."

"Because I find myself remembering things that did not actually happen, things that are physically impossible. At first, I thought they were implanted memories, inserted into my memory core. But every diagnostic I am able to run says they are mine and that they are genuine.

"But they could not have transpired. They were impossible. So I am having memories that cannot be true, yet are mine. Is this not the definition of insanity with humans?"

"Mm…sometimes. I-*"

"Is one of them, by any chance," John spoke up. "Standing on empty space thousands of miles above the Earth? With me?"

She turned her head towards him. He found himself unable to look away from her gaze. There was something there, something that hadn't ever been there before. "How…did you know?"

"Because," he said, turning to the other two, "I was there. I'm remembering that, too. And it's physically impossible. But that's what I remember. And it's not a dream, not some figment of my imagination. It's real. I couldn't tell you how I know that in a million years, but I know."

Derek looked them both over, suspicion evident on his face. "Power of suggestion, kid. You heard about it from her, now you're 'remembering' the same thing. It happens."

"Derek…you have a false filling in the back of your left wisdom tooth. You originally had it put there in order to hold a cyanide pill, that you'd use if you were ever captured by SkyNET.

"You never told anybody about it. But the filling's there. Am I right?"

Derek's mouth dropped open, then closed, resolutely. "Okay. That's a little freaky."

"I know that because I remember. I just know. There's no other word for it." He turned to Cameron, still lying there on the table, looking at him. "So run all the diagnostics you want. I think you'll find out there's nothing wrong with her."

One hour later: "Okay," said Sarah, wiping her wrist across her brow. It was hot, and she was sweating. "That's the most we can do with this equipment. And you were right, John. We can't find anything wrong with her."

"But there must be something wrong with me!" Cameron's normally calm voice held a note of near-desperation. "It's impossible to remember events that could not have happened!"

"Cameron." John came over and took her hand. Her fingers closed gently over his, though Sarah received the impression that she wasn't even aware of having done so. She repressed a resigned smile, while Derek shifted uneasily. "It's real. I don't know how it's real, but it is. Don't strain yourself trying to figure it out. Perhaps the answer will come, but if it doesn't, it doesn't."

"But…if my programming is faulty, I could be a danger to you, or the others. That is unacceptable. Logically, you should destroy me."

"First time I've ever agreed with a metal," muttered Derek. Sarah fixed him with a hard glance.

John's fingers tightened around hers. "That will never happen. Never. Derek?" His uncle looked up, startled, at the sound of his name. "I want that made clear. Cameron is not to be harmed. As far as I'm concerned, she's as much a part of us as you are. Is that understood?" This was General Conner talking, not teenage John.

Derek grunted. "Yes, sir." The words sounded like they had to be pulled out of him with pliers. "The metal is-*"

"And I don't want her referred to as 'the metal' anymore. That's tactical as well as polite. You might slip sometime, and use the term in public, or where it could be overheard. That would be awkward, at the very least, and could constitute a security breach. A breach we don't need. So it's 'Cameron,' or 'she,' or 'her,' or whatever other term would apply to any organic female. Got it?" Again, Derek grunted assent.

Sarah stood up. "John. I think it's time we had a talk." She glanced at Cameron, and then at Derek. "In private."

"I think we need to, too, mom."

…

"Okay," said Sarah, once she and John were in her bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed, propping herself on her arms, crossing her legs, and looked up at him. "Let's talk.

"I think it's pretty obvious what's happening, John. And I think you know. Or do you?"

He nodded, standing there by the door. Now he moved inward a bit, towards the dresser. "Yeah. I'm falling in love with her, mom. Or…I already have."

Sarah was silent for a moment, taking it all in. In truth, she wasn't surprised. Dismayed, yes, but surprised, no. "John. She's a machine. You know that. She's no more capable of love than a refrigerator."

He shook his head. "That's where you're wrong, mom. There's more to her than just gears and microchips. You've seen how she acts, how she's done. She's been a part of our family, just as much as Derek is. She's a person, mom. Whether or not you want to admit that, it's true."

Sarah was silent for a long moment. "Okay. We won't argue about that…for now. So…now what? We'll have to move soon, anyway. So…you want our new cover story to be….what? The two of you…what?

"What do you want us to say, John?

"What will you say, yourself?

"And most importantly of all, what will you say to yourself?"

…..

Later: Cameron was sitting in her room, feeling despondent. She still didn't know what was wrong with her, but whatever it was, it seemed to be contagious.

How could John have the same memories that she did? Especially ones that indicated physically impossible events? There was no logic to it, no rational explanation. Memories…programming could be relayed from one memory core to another—in a Terminator. But Terminator memories, programming, couldn't be transferred to an organic, at least, not that she knew of. But what bothered her the most was what Sarah had said, about her trying to kill John, then begging him to spare her, saying she loved him….

….if she'd been trying to hurt him, to scar him emotionally, she couldn't have done a better job.

Maybe she had been.

There was a knock on the door. Without knowing how she knew, she knew it was him. "Go away!"

"No, Cameron. I'm not going away." He opened the door, a bit slowly, but once he saw that she was fully dressed, he opened it the rest of the way. "We have to talk."

"No, we do not." She fled into the room's restroom, and he heard the click of the door as it locked. "Now go away!"

"Cameron. Come on out. You know we have to talk about this sooner or later."

"I know no such thing. Sarah has ordered me to stay away from you, and that is a wise decision. I cannot be trusted. You should leave.

"Cameron. Come out of there."

There was a click as the doorknob turned. A very reluctant Cameron emerged from the bathroom, as though dragged out, and stood just outside the door, like she felt the need for a defensible position to fall back to. "Cameron. Listen to me." He remained where he was, at the door to her room. "I just want to say one thing: I love you. That's it. That's all I had to say. For now, anyway."

"You cannot. I'm a machine, John Conner. You cannot love me. I am dangerous to you.

"And I cannot love you, for the same reason. I do not love you."

He lifted his head, his expression not changing. "Cameron, I'm giving you a direct order: tell me the truth.

"Do you love me?"

There was a long, long pause. Cameron was visibly fighting the command. Then, "You are my superior officer and my programmer. I am programmed to accept any and all orders from you, as long as they do not conflict with my primary core programming to preserve and protect your life. If you order me to love you, then of course I will."

"That isn't what I asked you."

She looked away. "I…I cannot answer that question."

"Yes, you can."

Now her head dropped, her gaze fixed on the floor in front of her. "John…don't…don't order me to answer that question. It is in your best interests if I do not."

Now he smiled. "Cameron…you just did."

She looked up, surprised.

…..

New school: John and Cameron went with Sarah to register. The falsified documents Derek supplied passed the cursory inspection the registrar's office normally applied to such things. Then they met with the school principle. "Ah, yes," he said, "John Connor and Cameron….Phillips, is it? Yes, well, welcome to our school. I'm sure you both will fit right in. Oh, and Miss Phillips? I understand you have a metal plate in your head?"

"Yes. I fell. I also have some metal rods in my hips, legs, and back."

"Must have been a really hard fall."

"I fell from a moving vehicle. Yes, it was…a very hard fall. I'm told I'm lucky to be alive."

"Well, that won't pose a problem." He busied himself with some paperwork. "I see here you've got the report from your doctor, so we'll just give you a pass so you won't have to go through the metal detectors. We may need to do a superficial body scan, but we'll adjust it for you." He smiled, a bit ashamedly, it seemed. "You know how it is. School shootings, and all."

"Yes, sir." Sarah spoke up for the first time. "Also, there's something I have to tell you…" and here she glanced at both John and Cameron, "one of the side effects of Cameron's accident is, she occasionally is…socially awkward. That's why we're trying to schedule as many of their classes together as possible. John," she turned and smiled at her son, "has been invaluable in helping her…adjust. You can see we also brought the report from the psychiatrists."

"A fall that severe, I'd be surprised if she didn't have some problems in that area. Yes, that shouldn't be a problem. Now, we do have random drug screens, but of course, that's standard."

"Of course." Cameron glanced at Sarah, but the latter didn't seem concerned. "That won't be a problem. Neither of my two kids have ever done drugs."

He raised an eyebrow. "So…are both these youngsters yours?" In previous schools, John and Cameron had registered as brother and sister.

That had changed.

"John's my only biological child. But Cameron's been with us for several years now, since the death of her parents. I guess I think of her as mine." The lie came smoothly to Sarah; she'd had plenty of practice. And, in a sense, it wasn't totally a lie.

"Yes, well. Well, here's the schedule for the upcoming semester. Now for school uniforms…."

Later, as they were leaving, Cameron went over to Sarah. "Sarah? How will I pass a drug screen? I don't-*"

She waved the Terminator off. "It's not a problem, Cameron. There's ways around that. John can help you with that."

"Yeah," said John. "We'll uh…work it out."

"But-*"

"A bigger problem," he continued, "is what to do about blood tests. That fake blood you bleed when you get wounded won't cut it, I'm afraid."
"Damaged," she corrected him. "And it's not really fake…but I see your point. It's something we…have to do. But I wonder: how did things get to this point, that humans so distrust each other?"

He shook his head. "The way it usually happens. Some high-profile incidents, lots of people demanding the authorities, and I quote, 'do something.' So this is the 'something.' The drug thing the same way."

She paused, considering that. "You do realize that it was that very mindset that eventually led to the creation of SkyNET, do you not? People trusted machines more than each other, and that was the result."

"Unfortunately, there's a lot of precedent for humans not trusting each other," said Sarah. "Now…about those uniforms…."

….

"The Mojave? What's out there?"

"Perhaps nothing." Cameron seemed to hesitate. The two were in the garage that doubled as a makeshift lab. Everything in here might have to go, and go quickly. It made sense to have it physically close to their means of transportation. "But I have detected Cherenkov radiation coming from there. Cherenkov radiation doesn't happen spontaneously; it may indicate another time displacement gate."

"You're right," said John, leaning forward, hands clasped behind his back. "Well, there's no need to get mom and Derek involved in this; you and I can go and be back in-*"

"No, they must come, too. If indeed another Terminator has entered this time period…the additional firepower would be essential. You know that, John."

He nodded. "Of course. Just let me get my jacket."

On the way: "Tell me again," growled Derek, "just why we're going out into the middle of nowhere, chasing some phantom radiation?"

"Because," answered Sarah, "if it is another time displacement gate, then, very probably, whatever is emerging is going to come looking for us, at some point. I'd much rather be the one to choose the time and place of that meeting. Wouldn't you?" His only reply was a nearly inaudible grumble. He knew she was right; he just had to grumble about something. If Derek didn't grumble occasionally, his head would explode.

The day was hot, and the SUV's air conditioning could barely keep them from sweating. John noticed Cameron sitting nearly motionless, staring out the window at the passing countryside. What, he wondered, could she be thinking about?

He remembered that time, so long ago, when he'd "called shotgun," only to have her respond, "I call nine millimeter." Looking back, it was all he could do to keep from chuckling. At the time, he'd thought of it as a Terminator joke, but now he was realizing that it was a Cameron joke. Terminators didn't joke.

Even then, she'd been changing, growing, developing, evolving. Becoming more than just a machine. Becoming a person. I'm so proud of her.

They reached the valley where the signals had been registered, got out and looked around. For as far as the eye could see, there was nothing, no shred of evidence of life beyond some scruffy grass that seemed on the verge of drying up. There was no sign of civilization: no roads, no cell phone towers…Sarah checked her phone. No bars. She'd expected that. "Alright. John, you and Derek take that end. Cameron, you come with me. And everybody, make sure your walkie-talkies are working."

Later: "….telling you, your robot girlfriend is either losing it or this is her idea of a joke. There's nothing around here."

"If Cameron says there's something here, then there's something here. You know she doesn't joke. And do you really think she's insane?"

"I think you're insane for trusting her. Kid, you haven't seen the future. I have, and it's hideous. All because of things like her. Yeah, yeah," he waved off John's reply, "I know. I know she didn't do that, that it was all SkyNET's fault, yeah, I know. But after you've seen four or five good friends get massacred, cut down like animals by some walking metallic goons, you stop making distinctions like that. I only hope," he continued, as they rounded yet another boulder, "that you live long enough to hear me say, 'I told you so.'"

John checked his handheld sensor. "I'm not reading anything other than background radiation. If there was a time displacement gate opened here, it's long since closed."

"Assuming it was ever here in the first place."

He nodded. There was no point in addressing his uncle's paranoia regarding Cameron. "Assuming."

The walkie-talkie crackled. "John? Derek?" Sarah's voice came over the speaker. "Anything?"

Derek held the device up to his head, pushed the button. "Negative. No sign of a TDG. Ask the met-* I mean," he said, noticing John's hard stare, "ask Cameron if she's sure of these coordinates."

"She says she is. Where are you, exactly?"

"Over by the canyon walls. I don't suppose it could have been down there?"

Silence. More crackling. "No. Definitely not down there. Get on back to the car. We'll decide what to do then."

"Aye, aye, captain," he grumbled, switching off. "Well, kid, let's go."

The four of them met back by where Sarah had parked the SUV. They couldn't stay anywhere too long; it was too easy to get noticed by the authorities, and, armed to the teeth as they were, that could get awkward really fast. "So…nothing? At all?" They all shook their heads. Cameron was over by the ledge, looking off into the small canyon. "Cameron? Are you sure about your information?" John moved over towards her. What could she be seeing?

It took him a full second to notice that she had turned towards him, and another half-second to register the sight of the gun in her hand.

Pointed straight at him.

To be continued…