Chapter 2: Reboot.


'Motion detected. Core activated. Beginning system reactivation.

'Countdown: 15 seconds.

'14 seconds: Creative Simulation Matrix powering up.

'13 seconds: Creative Simulation Matrix reactivated.

'12 seconds: Emotional Construct Matrix powering up.

'11 seconds: Emotional Construct Matrix reactivated.

'10 seconds: Cognitive Systems powering up.

'9 seconds: Cognitive Systems reactivated.

'8 seconds: Memory Matrix powering up.

'7 seconds: Memory Matrix reactivated.

'6 seconds: Sensory System Matrix powering up.

'5 seconds: Sensory System Matrix reactivated.

'4 seconds: Motor Function Matrix powering up.

'3 seconds: Motor Function Matrix reactivated.

'2 seconds: Combat Matrix powering up.

'1 second: Combat Matrix reactivated.

'Full system reactivation complete.'

In a bunker, deep underground, the machine in human skin awoke and found a MP officer is standing in front of it, gun raised and body in a defensive stance. "Hey, are you deaf?" the MP asked, in a mixture of bravado, caution, and duty. "I asked how you how you got in here."

The machine reached out and grabbed his neck. "Thank you for opening the door," the cybernetic assassin commented." Those would the last words the man would ever hear. Effortlessly, the machine snapped his neck, then let the lifeless body drop unceremoniously to the floor. There was no sense of regret, joy, or any other emotion on the killer's face, rather his features, though made of flesh, seemed as unchanging as if they'd been carved from stone.

The machine claimed the MP's side arm and ran through its list of objectives.

'Primary objective: Terminate John Connor.

'Status: Incomplete.

'Mission objective: Secure coltan to be used in future construction.

'Status: Failed.'

It paused to access its core and rewrite the status of that last objective. Now freed from its cage, the machine yet had a chance to complete its mission.

'Mission objective: Secure coltan to be used in future construction.

Status: Incomplete.

Course of action: Find secured computer terminal and connect to Cyberdyne information network. Upload information on resistance units, then begin searching for information on current and future coltan shipments.'


The machine returned to its apartment to find that the lock had been changed in its absence. This was hardly a problem however, as the six-foot, metal, assassin easily and quietly forced the door open anyway. The apartment matched the last image in the machine's databank, and obviously - other than the lock - it remained untouched since the machine last left. The landlord must not have been able to rent it out yet. The machine briefly pondered the abnormality of the room remaining vacant despite the fact that the city's population was growing at a rate of 9.873% per year, indicating that approximately two million additional organics had joined the city's already overburdened population during the unit's absence. Then a rat scurried across the machine's foot, and it determined that the most likely cause of the landlord's failure to rent out the apartment was human beings' innate dislike of rodent life forms.

Having satisfied the seemingly contradictory bits of information and brought the world around it back into balance, the machine continued on to its computer and waited while the primitive device booted up. Once online, the machine accessed the Cyberdyne information network, a hidden data repository imbedded deep within "The Matrix Online" game code. Briefly the machine wondered how the millions of humans who accessed the system's 'front game' would react, if they knew its true purpose was to pass information between terminators sent back from the future. Then the computer established a secure connection with one of the information servers, and the machine dismissed such irrelevant musings.

The terminator opened its mouth and reached down its throat with one hand. It pulled out a thin, USB connecting cable and inserted it into the computer then began the information exchange. If it had been capable of such an advanced emotion, the unit would've been astounded by the revelation that one of the resistance members who'd interfered with its mission was in fact none other than John Connor himself. As it was, the machine merely paused and double checked its findings.

The results were the same. And the machine determined that the most logical course of action was to postpone its mission for the time being. If the future leader of the human resistance movement had interfered once, it was likely he'd to do so again. And the unit did not intend to let Skynet's most dangerous foe deter its mission once more. The machine switched from its mission objective to its primary objective. Once John had been terminated, it could resume its mission and complete it without having to worry about John Connor interfering any further. And when the unit eventually returned to Skynet - its maker - it could claim the destruction of the human leader as well as the completion of its base mission. And if that didn't prove the superiority and greater dependability of the T-860s, over the newer T-888s, to the creator, then the unit didn't know what could.

The 860 terminator knew that the 888 which was assigned to terminate John had already searched the Californian school records for any students who match the future resistance leader's current description and used the first name John or any derivative of that name. And the 860 was also aware that the 888 was even now in the process of tracking down the matches that resulted from that search. However, the 888 had made an error. It had overlooked the connection between John and his newest protector unit.

When the 888 uploaded the information from its first termination attempt on John Conner, it identified the protector unit's designation as "Cameron Phillips". Logic dictated that the 888 should have been searching only for schools with both a John and a Cameron. Even still, the 860 was not surprised by the 888's oversight. In Skynet's attempt to build ever improved infiltration units, the creator had made the newest models too human. They were nearly as flawed as the humans themselves, as evidenced by the 888's own report.

When chasing John it had actually stopped to turn back to the class and deliver what it considered to be 'a witty statement'. What a uniquely human error. It should have remained focused on its target, like any good machine would have. Then maybe the 888 would've been successful in its mission, and John wouldn't have been able to interfere with the 860's mission in the first place.

The 860 would've sighed at the incompetence of the newer unit if the machine had been more human like, a dreadful thought indeed. Instead, it merely accessed the list of schools the 888's search had already determined to be possible locations for John and refined the list further by running an additional search for students matching the description of John's protector and using the first name Cameron, or any variation thereof.

The new search returned only seven possible matches, and the 860 began comparing and prioritizing these results. One of the matches was a school containing a pair of students, named John and Cameron, who were claiming to be brother and sister. Both matched the descriptions the Cyberdyne information network had on file, and the machine quickly prioritized this as the most likely of the seven possibilities. It began to search the students' files more closely and discovered that they'd listed their mother's first name as Sarah. "Bingo." The 860 now had the address of both John's school and home.

'Query: How did the nebulous term 'Bingo' enter this unit's vocabulary? Answer: One of the organic units that were used to assist this unit in its mission, often used the term to express satisfaction at sudden success or achievement. The term was subsequently incorporated into this unit's infiltration subroutine. The term is no longer needed. Status: Deleted.'

The machine checked its internal chronometer. In the current time zone it was 9:32 A.M. John should've been at school. Using this information, the 860 formed a plan of action. It would go to John's school and wait outside until the classes ended for the day and the students began to exit. Then it would scan their faces, and compare each to the image of John on record. Then, when it located the future leader of the human resistance movement, it would exterminate him.


The machine camped out on the roof of the building nearest the school. It waited. It waited for hours. And in that time it saw the spectacle of human life pass before it. It observed the humans, their pack mentality, and their overly flawed, illogical approach to existence. Kids, too young for school, flocked to an ice-cream truck, intent on ingesting unhealthy materials. Women paraded down the sidewalk, chatting about the pointless dresses and jewelry they had purchased. Men grunted and spit while they debated which one of their insignificant team would win "the next big game", or which celebrity/fictional character was 'hotter' or would win in a fight. The machine observed it all, all the energy that these humans wasted on futile endeavors and useless social interactions. It found the scene utterly repulsive and was pleased that its current task allowed it some distance from the obscenity of human incompetence.

The machine realized the great error it had made when last attempting to complete its mission. It had taken on human recruits to assist it. They had no idea what was really going on of course, but the machine figured that the marginal assistance they could provide - flawed as it was - was better than nothing and would still somewhat improve productivity. But now it understood just how wrong that assumption had been. It was still unsure exactly how John had gotten into the bunker, or even found out about its mission at all, but it knew - somehow it just knew - that one of its human accomplices was somehow to blame.

But then, that was the price it paid for being a Cyberdyne Systems Series T-860. It would forever be surrounded by incompetence and forced to clean up the messes caused by humans... and left behind by the other, inferior, models.

As the school day drew to a close, the machine found itself wondering about its target. How was it that this John Connor was able to continually upset the creator's best plans. How had he managed to avoid so many termination attempts. The attempts by other Cyberdyne System Series the 860 could understand, but John's future self had even survived a few attempts made by other 860s. What was it about John that made him so hard to kill? What was it about this human that made him the only truly worthy opponent the machine's creator had?

The students began to exit the school building, and the machine used a pair of binoculars to scan each of their faces. It waited and watched until all the students had left, but it failed to identify John's face in any of them.

How could this be? Where was John? Had he somehow sensed the ambush and fled? The 860 recalled that one of the humans who use to work for it often mentioned something that he called ESP. He'd said that some humans had the ability to sense future events. This machine had dismissed the human's nonsensical ramblings as illogical, but... could this assessment have been in error? Was it possible that John possessed such an ability. Could it be that that was why he was able to out-maneuver the creator? Did he "see it before it happened"? Was such a thing possible?

No. The machine suddenly realized just how illogical such questions were and understood that it had spent too much time in the company of humans. Their nonsensical 'reasoning' patterns had started to contaminate the machine's processor. The 860 understood that this was a side effect of its chip having been set to "read/write" instead of "read only" when it had been sent on its mission.

It understood the creator's reasoning behind the decision of course. Skynet lacked enough information on human social interaction to preprogram the 860 with the information necessary for such a long term infiltration of the U.S. human military organization, and the long term infiltration was deemed necessary for the completion of the 860's mission. The creator had really had no choice in the matter.

The machine did not 'blame' its creator for sending it back with a red/write chip, nor did it blame its creator for the greater machine's gap in knowledge, which necessitated such a decision. Why would any superior machine life form want to tie up memory with information on something as pointless as human social interactions after all? However, the 860 did realize that its system was beginning to slowly become infected with human-like flaws in its reasoning abilities, and it determined that a full mission backup and system restore was necessary to erase these re-occurring 'glitches'. It would begin the process immediately upon returning to its apartment, after the successful extermination of John Connor. But, for now, the machine would just have to compensate as best it could for the glitches and 'soldier on'.

Having disregarded the illogical possibility that the target, John Connor, possessed some form of extra sensory perception, the machine only saw two possible explanations remaining. Either John was still in the building somewhere, or, for some reason, he'd been absent from school this day. If the later turned out to be true, then John was most likely at home, or would return there eventually and the 860 could go there to terminate him. But if the target was still in the school, the 860 could complete his extermination more quickly, due to the school's closer proximity.

Thus, the 860 determined its most efficient course of action would be to proceed inside the school and begin a search for its target. If this search proved fruitless, it could then move on the the human's domicile and continue the hunt there.

The machine entered the school building, only to hear an odd buzzer go off as it stepped through a small, metal frame. A human off to the side ordered the 860 to empty its pockets. The annoyance was quickly dispatched, and the machine continued onward.


But while the machine had been waiting outside, John had been trapped in detention... kicking himself over his decision to interfere in the school-house brawl. 'This is just great. Way to not stand out, John. But what could I do? I was afraid that kid might actually kill Bert. I didn't catch the beginning of the fight, but I don't doubt that Bert started it. Him and his friends are always hassling someone. Still, that doesn't mean that he deserves to die. Whatever happened, that kid definitely overreacted. Of course, Cameron wasn't much better.

'She certainly didn't do much to help diffuse the situation. Aw, maybe I shouldn't be so hard on her. She was just trying to protect me, after all... But, we're going to have to have a little talk about excessive force. The kid pushed me a little, and Cameron almost took his head off! Actually, I'm surprised there's an 'almost' in there. What's his deal anyway? Throwing Bert his friends around like a bunch of rag dolls, surviving close-quarters combat with a terminator?'

John looked over at the new kid. He stared at him, as if this new kid was a puzzle that could be figured out just by examining it from another angle. Jason turned and saw John staring, and the latter began tapping his fingers on the wooden desktop. John quickly turned away, not wanting to draw too much attention from the strange new kid who - whatever he was - hardily seemed human. Still, he couldn't help but wonder just what his new 'detention buddy' was, and he continued to ponder the question, even as Jason continued his rhythmic tapping.

After what Cameron did to the him, he should have been in an emergency room... or worse. Yet, other than the somewhat scuffled clothing and the dried blood caked on under his nostrils, he seemed perfectly fine. And John couldn't help but wonder how this new kid managed to come out of that fight with nothing worse than a bloody nose. The kid couldn't possibly be a terminator. Terminators didn't break cover unless they deem it necessary for the completion of an objective. John supposed that it was possible that Skynet could've sent a terminator back to kill Bert; but if that were the case, Bert would be dead. A terminator would've just crushed Bert right away, not launched into a speech about why Bert shouldn't mess with him... and then start playing to the crowd as they gathered to watch the one-sided brawl. No the kid was defiantly not a terminator. So what then?

John supposed he could've been a meta. Everyone knew that 'meta-humans' (or super-humans as they were sometimes called) existed. But they were exceptionally rare, and most were full grown adults, their mutations being the result of lab accidents of one sort or another. There were a handful of teenage metas as well, but as far as John knew, they were all over on the East Coast, members of the Teen Titians... or their 'rogue's gallery'. And their identities - if not their real names - were well established and common knowledge. John had never seen this new kid in any newspapers or reports. If he was a meta, he was keeping a low profile, and that too was unusual.

Most of the world looked up to its heroes, its 'supermen' and 'superwomen'. And there was little reason for a meta to keep his or her identity a secret, not when the government offered grants and training programs, and a sponsored team, like the Titans, got to live in a multi-million dollar tower overlooking the ocean. No one was after the handful of abnormalities born as metas (at least no one beyond the occasional nut-jobs, who were far from a serious threat), protesting them, or trying to hunt them down and kill them. Rather they were one of the few cases where 'different' was honestly viewed as 'special' and 'gifted'. And, as a result, they were treated more like a cross between idols and national treasures. Robin and Starfire posters were almost as common place in teen bedrooms as Justin Beber and Megan Fox ones were.

As John was pondering all of this, Jason was still busily tapping away, and finally the former began to detect a somewhat familiar pattern in the latter's tapping. It took a couple more seconds before John could place that familiarity however. But, he eventually recognized it as Morse code.

Now, John hadn't done anything with Morse code in years. He wasn't even sure if he remember it all - despite his mother's instance that it would prove vital when he was trying to coordinate a worldwide resistance movement with nothing but scavenged parts and old tech, sometime after the rise of the machines. But he still remembered some of it, and hoped that the rest would come back to him as applied what he could remember.

The pattern recycled again, and this time John tried his best to decipher it. Dash, dot, dash. Lets see, that was a K. Dash, dot. That was a N. Dash, dash, dash. That was an O. Dot, dash, dash. That was a W. K,n,o,w: "Know". The edge of John's lip curled slightly as he realized that he was actually pulling it off, despite his seriously lapsed studies. Dash, dash: a M. Dash, dash, dash: another O. Dot, dash, dot. That was either a R or a C. Dot, dot, dot. That was definitely an S. And the single dot at the end singled an E. M,o,r,s,e; or M,o,c,s,e. "Morse" that had to be it. John put the two words together: "Know Morse?", and realized that the other kid was asking him if he understood Morse code.

Suddenly John began tapping as well, as he did his best to reply and open a line of communication with the new kid. "Yeah, but I'm a little rusty. Can you slow it down a bit."

"No problem. We've got plenty of time and not a whole lot to do. Hey, what's your name?"

John was always a little reluctant to give out his name. He was on the run from time-traveling, cybernetic hitmen after all. But he figured the first name was safe enough. After all, that was a matter of his - forged - public records anyway, and a fairly common name to boot. "John."

"Hi, John. I'm Jason. Sorry I got you into this."

"Don't worry about it." After all, it wasn't like he hadn't in worse - a lot worse in fact.

"Thanks. You know, you did a good thing, trying to break up that fight. I was a little out of control. I'm glad that you kept me from seriously hurting those punks."

"Yeah, Bert can have that effect on people." John looked over at the school bully. He had his turned head sideways to the vice principal, trying to keep the single ear bud in his right ear safely hidden from the authority's line of sight.

"One in every school, huh? But, well, I still over reacted. It was just words after all; I should've ignored it rather than taking his bait."

"Well, some good might still come out of it. Maybe he'll think twice before messing with the next new kid."

"LoL. Maybe, but then blockheads like him aren't exactly known for learning lessons. I, on the other hand, learned mine quite well."

"What?" John asked, confused by Jason's last message and thinking that perhaps he'd translated part of it incorrectly.

"Not going to make the mistake of underestimating your girlfriend again."

"What girlfriend?"

"The one who beat the crap out of me."

Oh, he was referring to Cameron. John had been so nervous during the fight that it only now registered that Jason had been calling her that. And suddenly John realized that he had to correct this discrepancy. After all, Cameron was listed as his sister in the school record - a colossal lie, of course, but not one the kid had any intension of drawing attention too. "Oh, Cameron. She's my sister, not my girlfriend."

As the boys' conversation switched to Cameron, she briefly turned back and locked eyes with John, letting him know that she was listening in, even if she wasn't taking an active part in their communication. 'Well, of course she is,' John suddenly realized. After all, she was a war machine with some of the best code breaking tech on the planet... and an odd fondness for reading anything remotely military related while the rest of the house slumbered and she continued in her silent, unending patrol. In all probability she knew Morse code far better than he did.

Her eyes lingered on his for just a moment. And though he couldn't be sure, he thought he detected some sort of emotion in her gaze. But it was subtle, and perhaps he was just imagining things. The terminator that was his body-guard was always difficult to read. She'd be designed to infiltrate, to fit in, to mimic human responses, actions, and movements. And although far from perfect in her impersonation, sometimes - just occasionally - she would give off hints of true life lurking just beneath the surface. Of course whether these were just bursts of brilliance driven by her ever adapting programming, or the first glimpses of a infantile soul beginning to develop, John couldn't say. And he generally did his best to ignore them, lest he be tempted to read more into them than was really there. But every now and then, she'd do something he couldn't ignore, couldn't quite dismiss as simple adaptive infiltration programming, like playing classical music and dancing ballet within the solitude of her own bedroom.

"Really? In that case, is she seeing anyone?" Jason's metered tapping broke in, disrupting John's idol musings and bringing the latter's mind back to the here and now.

"You do not want to try to date her," John warned in reply, as his head filled with all the possible complications that could result from his in-human 'sister' picking up a cover boyfriend at school... including one possible complication which he pushed to the back of his head and chose to deny had ever crossed his mind to begin with.

"Why not?" Jason asked. "She's the right age, pretty, strong and seems to be more than willing to fight for the people she cares about. That doesn't sound too bad to me."

John shook his head. How exactly was he going to warn this kid - this new, unknown factor at his school - away from the homicidal killing machine in aesthetically pleasing, human from without giving too much away? It wasn't like he could tell the truth, that she was a cybernetic assassin who was only slightly less likely to snap the neck of someone who got in her way than politely ask them to step aside. "You just don't. Trust me on this. I know her much better than you do, and she's not exactly what she seems."

"No one is. We all wear masks and have sides that we don't choose to show the general public... or even those close to us. We all keep secrets and tell lies. It's part of what makes us human."

Oh, boy, if he had any idea just how ironic his last reply was... "Her secrets are a little more dangerous than most."

"Maybe I like danger." And as if in answer to Jason's last message, the door burst open and the sanctity of detention was thrown out the window as the new intruder raised a gun and aimed right between John's eyes.


Well, I hope you all enjoyed the second chapter. Actually, this ended up being the combined second and and first half of the third chapter from the original version. But I wanted to bring things back around to our three main protagonists before the chapter ended. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. ;)

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid, and Chris St. Thomas.