Terminator: The John Connor Chronicles: A Dark Wind

Chapter 1: Forebodings.

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I don't own any part of the Terminator franchise, nor the Sarah Connor Chronicles. My viewing of it was spotty, so excuse me if I make some mistakes.

This takes place after the series finale. The way it played out, I just couldn't let it go like that. So {{blows raspberry}}.

Jameron forever, people!

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Chapter 1: Forebodings.

"Are you busy?" Cameron came into John Connor's room, closing the door behind her.

He sighed. This was, what? The fourth time now? "No." Ever since his return from a very confusing future, where he'd made it a point to have the programmers in that day and age rewrite her core memory module, eliminating (he hoped) the termination order she'd been operating under, she'd taken to calling upon him in this manner. When she'd first done it, so long ago, he'd thought she was trying to make Riley, the girl he was going with at the time, jealous. But even now, with Riley completely out of the picture, she still seemed to prefer this mode of conference with him. He couldn't understand it.

And there was no point asking her. "We talk," had been her only answer, whenever he'd asked her why she chose these particular times and this particular way. But they talked other times, so…?

It had been several months since his return from the future, a confusing future where he'd met not only his own father, but Derek, whom he'd believed dead, and the girl upon whom Cameron had modeled her appearance, Allyson Young. After some months in that future time, he had returned to the same building basement, via the same temporal displacement gate, and, fortunately, arrived only a few seconds after the fight. Naturally, first thing he'd sought out was Cameron's body, and, with the building still blazing around them, brought her out, hotwired a jeep and made for a nearby motel. There, he'd reinserted a modified core into her head, reactivating her, hoping all the while that the future programmers had managed to overwrite the termination order. Common sense had told him it was a bad idea, but, for some reason, he felt like he had to do it. Maybe he felt like he owed it to her. She hadn't asked to be reprogrammed, after all.

And if the programming override didn't work? If she did kill him? His mother had had a taste of that future…he guessed she ought to have some knowledge. And life was just plain dangerous anyway.

But she hadn't tried to kill him. Maybe the programmers in the future had succeeded in eliminating that bit of code from her matrix.

But ever since then, she'd displayed some odd behavior. Such as this.

She came over and lay down upon the bed beside him, adjusting her head to be at the proper angle on the pillow. He watched her with a mixture of wariness and appreciation, one hand up under his pillow, the other across his stomach. At least, she'd never tried to share a pillow with him. He wasn't sure how he'd feel about that.

The damage to her face and body had long since regenerated. She was once again wearing her usual "leisure" combination of blue jeans and tight fitting, nearly transparent blouse. He'd never decided if she wore such garments deliberately, or if they just happened to be the first things handy. Once comfortable—if, indeed, comfort really played any part in it—she turned her head towards his. "I have some questions."

He refrained from saying, "Shoot." Cameron was, after all, a Terminator robot from the future, once of a series of mechanical beings designed by the rogue AI called SkyNET to eradicate humans from existence. Although she had been reprogrammed to protect him, he knew she sometimes took things literally. He wondered if that was maybe, in part, a robot sense of humor. "I'm listening."

She turned her head away from him, gazing up at the ceiling. "I analyzed that data cube we found in the ruined warehouse." He turned towards her in surprise.

Three days ago, while seeking his mother, they'd found a warehouse on the edge of town that looked as though it had gone through a war. Most of it appeared to be burned, but not enough to collapse the whole building. But what had interested them the most was the destroyed time gate.

Cameron had told them that the later gates were almost indestructible, constructed of the same mimetic metal that some of the Terminators were, and self-repairing. Evidently enough of this one had been destroyed that the remainder had been unable to repair it.

And right in front of it was a small cube, black with rounded corners, about the size and shape of a sugar cube. Cameron had called it a "data cube," and had actually seemed puzzled over it. When asked, she'd responded that such cubes were just this side of indestructible themselves, being the future's equivalent to the "black boxes" installed on airplanes, designed to survive any conceivable catastrophe. The idea was to give forensic scientists some idea as to what had happened. She'd told him it would require a specific type of interface to access whatever was stored on it. "Just don't plug it into yourself," he'd cautioned her. "You don't know what it may contain."

"I know that," she'd replied. "I'm not stupid." Returning his own words to him, the ones he'd said to her, back when he was going with Riley.

That had been days ago. "Okay," he said. "So what was in it?"

"Not as much as there should have been. The cube was heavily damaged."

"You said those things were indestructible."

"Nothing is indestructible. You should know that. But the cube was heavily damaged. I checked it for radiation…there was none. Whatever happened did not involve the use of nuclear weapons."

"Okay," he said. "What else was on it? And you said you had some questions?"

"Yes." She turned her head towards him again. "John Connor, do you like me?"

He was mildly stunned. Of all the questions he'd been preparing himself for, this wasn't one of them. Did he like her? What kind of question was that, coming from a killer robot?

A killer robot who'd become, in a way, his best friend. "Not sure how to answer that."

"You may use words." Again he wondered if that was robot humor or if she was serious.

"Why do you want to know?" All the while trying to think of an answer.

"It's important to me."

He turned back to studying the ceiling, his right arm still up under his pillow, his left down by his side. How did he feel? "Well….I guess the best way I can say it is, I like you, Cameron. But…"

"But you don't trust me."

He blew out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. "I…guess that's right. I like you but I don't trust you. Not totally. After all, you are a killer robot who, at one time or another, has been programmed to kill me. You aren't now, it's true…or at least, as far as I know, you aren't now. I like to believe you aren't. Now, why do you want to know that?"

"If you do not trust me, why did you reactivate me?"

He paused and thought. That was a question he'd asked himself on numerous occasions. Especially right after he'd seen her eyes snap open…and realized he was all alone there, with no weapon in sight. "I…I don't know. I suppose the best answer is…I resurrected you because I like you." He turned his head towards her. "Humans can be irrational that way, sometimes."

"If I was programmed to kill you…would you still like me, John Connor?"

Huh? "Cameron, what kind of a question is that?"

"An interrogative one. I don't know of any other kind of question. Please answer."

He sighed. He knew from past experience that arguing with her would get him exactly nowhere. He'd have better luck arguing with a soda machine. "Okay, okay. I guess the best answer to that is, I'd still like you…but I'd have to destroy you. If I could."

"You'd still…like me?"

Now he eyed her warily. Had something changed about her programming? Maybe something from the cube? He hoped the reprogramming guys from the future hadn't been having a few lulz the day they'd done their work. "I'd still like you…for what you used to be. I guess. I wouldn't like what you'd be doing. Now, why are you asking me these questions?"

"It's important to me that you like me, John Connor." And then she did something totally unexpected.

Cameron, the soulless Terminator robot, reached over and gently took his hand, intertwining her fingers through his, grasping his hand gently. He knew her grip could crush steel, but her fingers felt soft and natural. "Er, Cameron? What…what are you doing?"

"I am holding your hand. Isn't that what people who like each other do?"

"Well, yeah, I guess…." But are you a "people"?

"Then I am holding your hand. We are holding hands. That is what people who like each other do."

"O—kay." He wasn't sure about this at all, and was tempted to remove his hand, but…her grip felt wholly natural, just the right degree of firmness and femininity, in keeping with her guise. "Well, moving on…what information was on the cube?"

Her face was once again turned towards the ceiling. "Many things. Many things you would not—you will not—like. There was additional programming, heavily compromised. There was also basic information, and a plea for help."

"What? From where?"

"From the future. It was not clear from whom. But part of it was damage report in trinary code…SkyNET code."

"SkyNET?"

"Yes. The gate was destroyed from the other side. It was destroyed to prevent something from entering this world. Something unknown. Something powerful." She turned her head towards his, and he marveled once again at how perfect the illusion was. If he hadn't known better, he'd have sworn he was lying next to a beautiful human girl. A beautiful human girl with what he could swear looked like fear in her eyes. "John, it was destroyed by SkyNET.

"SkyNET was trying to save the world."

To be continued…..