I do not own the rights to "The Terminator", "Aliens", "Robocop", or "Stargate".

August 4, 1997

Miles Dyson kept a considerable amount of distance between himself and the Air Force major that was leading him to the general's office. He'd learned that the higher he went up the chain, the less comfortable he felt around these military types. He also kept a wary eye on the Security Forces airman standing just outside the general's door, whose grip seemed to tighten on the stock of his phased plasma rifle upon sight of Dyson. (According to what Dyson had heard, those weapons had just been developed in secret by General Electric for the military, and they seemed to pack quite a punch) Much as he tried, though, it was kind of hard to ignore the presence of the SP, whose green camouflage Battle Dress Uniform (BDUs) and black beret, as well as his obvious massive form, stood out in stark contrast to the pale color of the wall.

The major suddenly halted just outside the door and gave a quick yet sharp knock. From inside, Dyson heard a deep, gravelly voice mutter, "Enter." The major turned to Dyson slightly with a sharp look from his eye. "Stay here. I'll be right back." Dyson nodded coolly. He turned and glanced at the shield for SAC-NORAD (Strategic Air Command-North American Aerospace Defense) painted on the opposite wall. The joint command had been the result of a major reshuffling in the U.S. military in the early 1990s as tensions ramped up between the United States and the Soviet Union. The capabilities of the U.S. armed forces had increased dramatically, thanks in part to the advancing technology provided by Cyberdyne Systems, Dyson's employer, which seemed to further feed the flames of the arms race between the two superpowers.

The major reappeared and gestured for Dyson to enter the general's office. Dyson proceeded, ignoring the marble stare of the SP, and tried to put on a smile for the balding general, who looked up from his desk, which was crowded with paperwork. General Hugh Ashdown extended his powerful right hand and grasped Dyson's thin one firmly with a warm smile. "Mr. Dyson, I'd like to say we appreciate you making your way out here to Colorado from LA. I'm sure you appreciate the slight change in temperature? Not as scorching out here, huh?"

Dyson returned the smile. "No, sir, not as much."

Ashdown glanced at the major. "Can you give us a moment, Davidson?"

The major silently nodded and briskly exited, closing the door behind him. This seemed to signal that the general was getting down to real business now, something that he probably didn't want even the SP outside hearing.

"So, Mr. Dyson, tell me the truth: is this thing fully operational? Are we in business?"

Dyson nodded uneasily. "Yes, sir, but I think we need to discuss something."

Ashdown narrowed his eyes. "Don't get cold feet on me now."

Sighing, Dyson tried looking for where to begin. "Doesn't this…this whole setup give you an uneasy feeling?"

Ashdown sat back comfortably in his chair. "Actually, no, it doesn't. Quite frankly, I've been sleeping easier at night with what your team has installed here at Cheyenne Mountain."

"General, do you even fully understand what we've installed?"

"Yes, I do," Ashdown answered matter-of-factly. "You've instated an artificially intelligent supercomputer defense system that consciously and actively monitors all air activity in and around the United States and its territories for any threat, at which point it has our entire missile arsenal at its disposal." He beamed proudly. "For the first time ever, we can take human error out of the equation. There's a new name for national security, and its name is Skynet."

Ashdown shook his head. "Mr. Dyson, you should be very proud of yourself. This is your single greatest accomplishment, your ninth symphony, so to speak. You have given this country true security and peace." He cocked his head to the side. "You know, you should count yourself lucky to be given this opportunity. Just because we've bought from your company for years doesn't mean we had to this time. There were others practically begging for the contract to this particular project. Why, we were of half a mind to choose them for this, with the low prices they were asking for."

"Yeah? Like who?" Dyson scoffed, not out of arrogance, but out of irritation.

Ashdown counted them off on his fingers. "Yutani, Weyland, and OCP, for starters."

Dyson rolled his eyes. "Even if they were our top competitors, they couldn't pull off what we did. Yutani doesn't have scientists brilliant enough to pull off something original. They have to pirate their work from something else, like what they salvaged from that Special Forces mission in South America. Weyland has come pretty far, but they're still years behind what we can do. And as for OCP, well, their biggest AI has been that ED-something bot that has a brain the size of a walnut."

"True on some of those, but the point is, we didn't have to use you. Would you rather be stuck in San Francisco working with Dr. Kogan on that Project Angel crap?"

Dyson paused for a second. Time for a new tactic. "General…have you ever read Mary Shelly's 'Frankenstein'?"

Ashdown was caught off-guard by this question. "No, I was never too big into reading. I did see some of the movie, though. I thought Boris Karloff did a wonderful job."

"Do you remember the general idea of the story? Of a creator making something more than he had imagined, or could handle?"

"What are you getting at? The system you created is perfect. It's flawless."

Dyson started to gesture wildly. "But what if it's too perfect?"

"Dyson, if there's something you're not telling me, you better say it now."

"General, it's a neural net processor; it was designed to learn. Now, look at all that Skynet's hooked up to! All of the weapons and information resources that it has at its reach!"

Ashdown looked at him dumbfounded. "I know. The more information it can access, the better capable it can become to identify threats and eliminate them. Mr. Dyson, let me ask you something: Do you have a family?"

Dyson sighed and looked away. "Yes, uh, a wife and two kids. Boy and girl."

Ashdown nodded. "I see. I have a wife and a son myself. My son is now in the Air Force and is stationed up in Alaska. He makes me proud every day." A rather warm smile rested on his usually stony face for a moment, before his facial expression shifted into an adamant one. "They are the reason why I'm doing what I've done for the past thirty years. They are why I supported your research and had you work your magic these past couple of days."

"Listen, General, I get your point, but I'm trying to tell you that-"

"Dyson," Ashdown interrupted. "Look at the scar next to my left eye. Do you know how I got that?"

Dyson sighed again. "No, I don't, really."

"I got this July of '91 in West Berlin."

Dyson nodded. "The first direct exchange between American and Soviet troops."

"Yes, indeed. I got this while struggling with a young Soviet troop who attacked me with a knife." Ashdown went quiet for a moment, reflecting on his experience. "Do you know what they did to the Germans at that time?"

Dyson gave a thoughtful shrug. "A little. I know they were tightening their hold on East Berlin before crossing the border and trying to take over the Western part."

"Dyson, they conscripted men as young as fifteen to fight for them. Fifteen. It was either that or watch their family get slaughtered. And then they did….unspeakable….things to the women. Some of these were young girls, about as young as even the boys." Ashdown went quiet for a moment, shuddering as he reflected on the horrors he'd witnessed during that time. "They practiced this from the eastern side of the city, and on to the western side. Within a few days, we were able to push them back over the wall. I'd seen these atrocities being committed, and I practically begged for permission to jump the wall in pursuit of the Soviets, get back at them for all they did to the people." Ashdown looked up with a bitter look in his eyes. "Command would not let me avenge those poor people for all that the Soviets had visited upon them. And I will be DAMNED if I'll give them the chance to do that to our people here."

Dyson was getting a little frustrated. He could see where Ashdown was coming from, and sympathized with his point of view, but the general still didn't know all that Dyson did about Skynet's inner workings.

"General," Dyson responded, rubbing his forehead, "I want to keep this country as safe for my loved ones as you do for yours, but you don't know all I know about Skynet."

Ashdown shrugged impatiently. "What's there to know? It's a souped up circuit board."

"It's more than that. I'm trying to warn you, with all of its learning abilities, it may get to the point where it will see us, people in general, as the enemy, not just the ones on the other side."

Ashdown shrugged indifferently. "I don't know how it can. It's just a computer. Besides, I trust you've installed safeguards into the system for just such an event?"

Dyson shook his head. "I've done what I can, but who knows what abilities it could attain? It could find a way around my measures, for all we know."

Ashdown offered a comforting smile and a wink. "Ah, I have faith in you, Mr. Dyson." He looked back down at his desk and shuffled some papers around. "Oh, and did Major Davidson brief you on an upcoming project I'd like to include you on?"

Feeling defeated, Dyson dug his hands into his pockets. "Uh, yeah. Something headed in part by a…Doctor Jackson, I believe. It was called, I think, Stargate. What is that, anyway?"

Ashdown brushed the question off with a wave of his hand. "Just some telecommunications project. We're looking for only the best minds with this one, and I feel that's you. Interested?"

Dyson released a tired sigh. "Let me think about it on my way out."

"Very well, then," Ashdown answered while standing and offering his hand again. "Thank you once again for your hard work. You've done your country a great service."

Dyson hesitantly took his hand. "I hope so, General." He turned around, just in time to find the door being opened by Major Davidson for him. He nodded, and found himself once again striding through the corridors deep in the heart of the mountain.

As Davidson led him to the elevator to take him back to the lab to grab the last of his things, Dyson's thoughts turned to the general's offer and their disagreement. Reflecting on the fact that the General had outright ignored the warning of the system's own creator (which made sense, in a way, as Ashdown had practically staked his career on the success of the Skynet program), Dyson decided now he was done with working for the military. That was it. As soon as he got back to Sunnyvale, he would resign from Cyberdyne first thing, and then move his family elsewhere, at least somewhere away from the city.

He paused to peer through a narrow window into a large storage bay containing multiple first-generation T-1 Centurion units, all manufactured by Cyberdyne and based on the same operating platform as Skynet. These had been designed as backup to the base security, should their human counterparts be compromised and Skynet become vulnerable. Each one stood about six feet tall, rode on tank treads, and wielded dual Gatling guns. Dyson took all of this in, but what stood out to him the most was the "head", from which glared two inactive but very menacing red eyes. Never had he ever considered or dreamed that something he had created would eventually develop into something so destructive. This must have been how some of the scientists on the Manhattan project felt after the first test detonation of the atomic bomb.

Something told him, if his worst-case scenario on Skynet went even worse, it would probably be wise to be away from the major cities, and if anything, he could say that he warned them. Who knew, maybe that Connor woman who was arrested just a few years ago while trying to destroy one of their factories was on to something.

One thing was sure for Dyson: he was done with Cyberdyne.