CHAPTER FOUR
John had been following behind Cameron, right on her heels. It was safer for him to be near her than away from her. She had flipped open her clam-shell style phone and had pressed the speed dial for Sarah, knowing Derek was still with her, but John had put his hand softly on top of her before she could hit the green 'send' button.
He asked her not to call.
He said the two of them would handle it.
With a tilt of her head, slightly confused of this course of action and the display of personal contact from John, she'd used her index finger to flip closed the mobile phone.
While John saw her actions as casual he knew there was more to them than the nonchalant way in which she carried them out.
In another act which confused her, for which she would run a diagnosis later, she handed him her phone, holding it out as an offering, until he took it. It was just in case.
During the slow, methodical walk up the drive Cameron devoted a small portion of her immense processing power to analyzing what John had just done. He'd asked in, commanded her in a soft, almost pleading tone and this had spooked Cameron. Or what she thought humans would consider being 'spooked' as. Running the feeling through her neural net, it was most similar to being made aware of a new mission variable suddenly appearing while executing a mission after many hours of careful planning.
Yes… it is like a sudden variable interfering with a mission… that is what being 'spooked' is, Cameron ran through her neural net.
She and John walked forward lightly now, watching their steps to crunch as little gravel as they could beneath their feet..
To John and Cameron both, the crunch crunch crunch of the driveway's gravel was ear-shatteringly loud. It was a perfect speedometer, telling them they were walking too slowly but also telling them they were walking too quickly.
The cyborg's steps were much light, and to John, it was like she were walking on air. He didn't understand how Cameron, weighing slightly more than him, could walk without a sound.
The Future Leader of Mankind knew if Cameron considered this 'cousin' a threat, it would have almost been impossible for him to follow her. He had considered ordering him to allow him to follow, but she 'didn't take orders' from him. So as the Future Leader he had pled his case and used some of the cold reasoning skills he believed Future John would possess.
'Why would a machine talk with Kacy? He'd kill her to remove witness, right Cameron?' John had asked a minute before. 'It wouldn't wait for us and let her leave and maybe warn us or anything, I guess. If it were a Skynet terminator it could just plant a bomb at our house or wait covertly. We'd never know it killed Kacy and was waiting for us. I think this 'cousin' of ours is friendly… remember the person who left the message on the wall? He was Resistance, he knew where we lived. No one else did.'
'Your hypothesis is sound, John,' Cameron had replied quick and to the point. Then she'd relented and allowed him to move forward with her.
He didn't know if Cameron realized it, and a part of him was hoping she would and another part that she wouldn't, but he was grateful for her not telling him to run.
They rounded a corner up the drive, and Cameron noted that this was the exact spot in which, from the second floor, she could see someone beginning to approach, or see someone leave before turning the corner out of sight. She'd marked the location in her neural net and late one night had spread a slightly off-colored gravel so close to the original color, human eyes could never tell the difference.
The spot was also next to the weathered retaining wall, where an overflow of water had pushed dirt over the ledge of the bricks and stained the wall with a dirty brown streak which had formed like an upside down triangle as the water had condescend and flowed onto the drive way.
Even without these markers Cameron knew this spot intimately.
It was how far she had watched Riley a week ago until she had turned and gone to John's room.
The view of the patio was still obscured by thick bushes and semi-neglected landscaping, and the two still couldn't see signs that anyone had been there. She switched to IR, but from where she was she couldn't see the bottom of the patio steps. This was beginning to worry Cameron, and she began second-guessing herself over and over, until the repetition had occupied millions of cycles of her neural net. Her motion detectors had revealed nothing; if there was a person they were perfectly still. And various objects blocked her suite of optical scanners.
Cameron ran her optics at higher resolutions and filtered out the ambient background light to scan the individual. This man was six foot, one inch with light brown hair and blue eyes. His physical features appeared to be Anglo-Saxon or at least western European in ethnicity, and he seemed athletic. His face was squarer shaped, clean shaven, with short cut brown hair
She ran an overlay of T-888 endoskeletal points, and a negative match appeared on her HUD and neural net. There were no obvious weapons budges in either the khaki cargo parts this person wore or under the black collared shirt he had on.
"John, please stay back." Cameron cautioned with a dedicated, determined tone. She sidestepped ever so subtly to put herself at a better position in front of John to protect him.
"Who is it, do you know him?" John asked quickly.
"He does not match any files in my data base of known Resistance or Tech Com soldiers. And if he is a terminator, his endoskeleton does not match any previous series design."
They were both standing there, staring at the other, who was also standing and staring back at them.
John looked at Cameron out of the corner of his eye and back at the strange, who stood rigid and stiff. If it wasn't a machine, he'd be surprised. He saw the stranger blink, but even that could just be the infiltration protocols. Cameron blinked, Uncle Bob had… John bit down as he ran his eyes up and down, inspecting the stranger and trying to find any evidence, anything solid, that he was man or machine.
"So what do we do? Kacy said he was from my father's side of the family." John whispered.
He looked at Cameron, still wondering if she knew the truth to his father and Derek.
The words of his mother, about not trusting anyone with the information about who his father was, pounded in his mind as loudly and clearly as if she were there next to him yelling 'Don't trust them, John! You didn't trust them in the future!'
John saw that Cameron had never expressed any curiosity over his father or who he had been. And he'd told her once that he and his mom had adopted Sgt. Kyle Reese's last name to honor his memory in giving his life protecting Sarah.
Cameron had simply nodded and walked away.
"He does not appear to be armed, John. And since he knows the location of this house, much like the resistance member who wrote on the basement wall, it would be a safe assumption that he is friendly. I believe you were correct in your speculation. In such circumstance one would introduce themselves." Cameron stated carefully, in answer to his question
So academic, John snickered to himself. "Alright… if I die I blame you," he said, then snorted behind her when she failed to react. She was in protector mode, or hunter/killer mode, John saw. Nothing could distract her now short of some overt threat to his life.
Cameron would have laughed with him, if her concerns were not elsewhere. A relatively significant portion of her system resources and neural net processing power were being shunted to diagnostics and analyses of John's behavior with a similarly significant portion devoted to analyzing why she had allowed John to accompany her. His actions had been contradictory of a human male who should be grieving the loss of a dear… friend and accompanying her was reckless. John did these things, she remembered.
Overriding the default allocation of system resources she increased the processing power analyzing the scans she was receiving
"Let's go up then." John said, taking a step to get in front of Cameron. But her hand shot out and forced him back.
"We will. But stay behind me, John." I can't allow anything more to happen to you.
They walked up slowly, carefully counting each heel to toe step, until they were ten feet from the stranger.
A soft wind kicked up, and the stranger stood there for a moment, still and silent. John could see the stranger's eyes running over them both, measuring them up, taking in the situation. The teenager tried to read the stranger's eyes, but saw nothing.
"Sir," a strong voice sounded, surprising John. He looked up and the man had locked his eyes forward, pushed out his chest, and was standing almost at attention. "Captain John Alexander Planck, 2nd Special Forces Operational Division-Alpha detachment, Tech Com."
At these words John's eyebrows reflexively arched as he ran the words through his mind.
The man, Captain John Alexander Planck, stood straight and tall, and John saw he easily had four, maybe five inches on him. He stood like a soldier from the future, or what John assumed a future soldier would stand like; confident in their abilities yet with wariness, caution, and unease that death could be right around the corner.
Derek had often told him that few future soldiers thought of anything other than surviving. The brutal battlefields of California, and the world, meant soldiers from the future tried to live their lives day-by-day, survive today and worry about tomorrow when tomorrow came.
John, he noticed there were no scars, no tattoos. Derek had both, on his face and his arms, which were bare on Alex, his shirt sleeve coming to about mid level on his upper arm. Looking him up and down quickly he could tell Alex did appear malnourished, undernourished, or any variant thereof. He didn't have the sunken eyes like his uncle, or the other resistance fighters he'd seen pictures of. And he wasn't emaciated, like the resistance fighter who had died in their living wound. He looked athletic, like he was right out of college, just as Kacy had said.
While all this was circumstantial, the most definitive aspect of the visual inspection were their eyes. Cromartie's had been pure, driven evil, Carter's uncaring and focused, and Cameron's… he hadn't figured her out yet.
There was a common theme in both Comartie and Carter; uncaring lifelessness. With less than a minute having passed since the soldier had introduced himself he could tell he cared… but there was no life behind the eyes.
"You're a machine," John said, after nearly a minute of silence between the three. He could see Cameron looking over, a glint of approval in her eye. He knew she'd figured it out, probably as soon as the 'Captain Alex Planck' had introduced itself.
"That is correct, General Connor. I am a machine."
John was always surprised at how comfortable he was around the machines. It also wasn't because his current protector looked like an attractive young woman, either.
He wasn't oblivious to the fact he and his mother did not see eye to eye on this very issue. They really didn't even see in the same dimension concerning the machines. Her first experience with a machine had been with one hunting her. His first had been one saving him. His second had been one trying to save him.
His experiences with the machines had been so different from his mother's, and that was why he could sit with a machine and not feel threatened by it, or put his faith in them enough and reactive Cameron after she had tried to kill him.
"Do you eat?" John asked, taking a bite from a half sandwich Cameron had made him. She was standing next to him at the head of the table, really more like between him and Alex. Just in case.
Two hot dogs had not been enough at lunch, especially with a ten mile run, and even more so after throwing them both back up.
He put the turkey sandwich down and used a napkin to wipe off a little smudge of mustard and pepper on the side of his face as he waited for the answer.
"I prefer not to," Alex responded dryly.
John took another lazy bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly and thinking. After the initial trepidation on discovering a new machine was not here to kill him, he'd been excited to learn more about the future. That line of questioning had been a quick, bitter disappointment for the teen. Alex's answers had been short, almost curt in their tone, and vague.
He wondered if all machines were like that. Their logic and reasoning was entirely different than humans… something obvious to them could be oblivious to a human.
"So… why did I name you John? Seems a little weird," John asked.
"You didn't. My friends call me Alex, the name I prefer, sir," the machine replied.
"You can relax," John said to his female machine protector. "Cameron," he looked up, "I don't think you have to stand there. If he wanted to kill me he probably would have done it already." He turned back to face the machine, his chair groaning under his shifting weight. The machine claimed to be a captain in Tech Com. Cameron, John had guessed, didn't even have a rank. How did this machine? When did machines even get rank?
Cameron, cautious as ever, moved over to John's left. Instead of sitting down she grabbed a chair and positioned it where she had been standing. It gave her plenty of room to jump between the two, and she could watch the driveway for Sarah and Derek.
"Why did I send you back?" Was the question John finally asked.
"I will have to answer these questions again once Ms. Connor and Lieutenant Reese return, sir," Alex responded.
John started laughing, but used his hand to cover up his mouth, but still, he couldn't stop. Cameron looked on inquisitively, and Alex was perplexed at what was so funny. Both Cameron and Alex also exchanged the same look.
"You're a captain, right? So does… does… that mean Derek, a lieutenant, would, would… have to take orders from… you?" John asked between fits.
"You told me yes. But you were grinning when you said it, implying you were not being serious. You then said it didn't matter, because he wouldn't," Alex told him in a dull monotone. "I am also not the only one from Alpha to be sent back. I was sent first, and we were planning on sending back others from my detachment for a permanent team here."
"Team," John interrupted, holding up his hand and leaning forward. He ran that word through his mind. His 'future self' had sent Derek's team back as support. Would this be different?
He let the word echo in his mind for a minute. If there was a 'team' he knew his mom and Derek would be livid, but with a 'team' they could hunt Skynet like they had never been capable of doing before. It was exciting. He pursed his lips at that thought… it would probably be far more dangerous than exciting if there were multiple terminators living here.
"Yes, sir. Alpha is one of the numerous detachments-"
"Of machines…?" John interrupted again and trailed off.
"Yes sir, machines. They were established in early 2026 and after my construction I was placed first in SFOD-Echo in July 2026 and was moved to command SFOD-Alpha in December 2028 after the death of its previous commander."
"Death? So humans were on the team?" John asked.
"No, sir, they were all-machine teams from commanders to front line soldiers."
Interesting, John thought.
"Why would I do that?"
"Our missions were high risk and high priority operations- we're stronger, faster, more agile and coordinate our action to a degree no human can… we can act as a single unit." Alex saw John look down and think that over for a moment. "Alpha had been involved in everything from sabotage, reconnaissance, search and rescue, small unit assaults, diplomatic escort, assassinations and many other activities, sir. We were also tasked with your protection and the protection of high ranking Tech Com officers when leaving headquarters."
"So you knew… uh, Future Me?"
"Yes."
"What year are you from?"
"I am from 2033."
John's shoulders fell and he leaned back and slumped in his chair. "Great, so that means-" He didn't finish when his phone vibrated, moving precariously close to the edge of the table. "It's mom," he informed Cameron. She nodded once then fixed her eyes back on Alex.
Cameron felt a tingle in her neural net CPU as she looked towards Alex. She then did something she hadn't in a very long, long time. She opened a wireless communication link with another terminator.
'It is an honor to meet you in this time period,' Alex transmitted over to her.
She established a return connection, feeling the data flow from another machine for the first time since returning to the past.
'Captain, what is your mission here in the past. How do you know me from the future?' Cameron asked
"Yes mom… yes… no we haven't- wait… mom… listen. Another Resistance fighter came back… yeah. No… I don't think-"
Alex continued to stare forward at John before looking out towards the driveway. He had dampened his hearing to avoid listening in on the conversation, but at the same time, was talking with Cameron over a wireless data connection.
'My mission is complicated and General Connor left out some details. But our enemies in the future have multiples. There are rogue jumpers, traitors, and Skynet has established itself in the past. Skynet is also different. It seeks to jump start its technological development… it wants an army immediately after Judgment Day,' Alex explained.
'What does that mean, exactly, Captain?' Cameron questioned quickly. Alex's dodge of her question was obvious, and she filed away the question under a 'mission priority- high' folder. But if the machine opposite her would not answer the question at the moment, she would wait until later.
'I have already been forced to modify my mission. I was conflicted over coming here and seeking your aide, but due to changing circumstances, it is necessary. Skynet is also changing, evolving. It's been learning from its past mistakes. It seeks to close the time loop. General Connor and his allies succeeded in expanding the loop to six years beyond 2027 to 2033. Everyone wishes to end the loop on their terms.'
Cameron looked away and focused towards John and abruptly disconnected the wireless connection, cutting off the conversation. She gave Alex a look while John was distracted. She didn't fully trust him, and Alex knew that. She didn't have to deny any other transmissions, which was reassuring to the cyborg protector. It meant the captain would respect the wishes of others.
"-Derek knows the person… no, he's from the future, Derek's future… past 2027… how long? Um… a couple of years. Listen, mom… listen. I'll talk to you… you're pulling up? So why did you call if you were almost home?"
Annoyed at the revelation his mom was calling to check on him- typical overbearing mother he thought- when on the verge of pulling up to the driveway, John said a quick 'bye' and hung up the phone with a brisk flip of his wrist. John absently tossed the phone onto the table, watching it glide towards Cameron and spin until she stopped it with her index finger.
He knew his mother hated being hung up on, ignored. So the 'bye' was to show a little bit of respect while still being defiant of her wishes. He didn't want her to 'spaz out' (he couldn't remember if he heard that in school, when he was still going, or if it was on TV) over another machine. Today was too nice a day to be stuck inside on the receiving end of a 'I'm Disappointed in You' speech/face down.
John sullenly watched the car pulled into the driveway, Derek pulling ahead past the shed and obsessively putting the car into reverse and swinging it around so the front pointed back out. Quick for an escape, John told himself. All their actions were dictated based on the two maxims of 'escape' and 'run'.
Simultaneously Sarah and Derek both hopped out of the now parked black truck, and John could see Derek swing around the front of the truck with a shotgun being held against his left leg while he kept scanning the long and winedy driveway and the bushes and thick trees surrounding the house.
No one ever came up to the house Kacy. And Riley, John remembered. His eyes closed and he let out a long, stuttered breath as he mentally prepared himself.
"Well, captain, I guess it's time to explain yourself to Ms. Connor and Lieutenant Derek Reese," John said under his breath, mimicking the way the machine had referred to his mom and uncle. He threw his hands onto the table and pushed up, his chair squeaking on the floor as he slid it back. This was going to be either very, very interesting, or very, very bad.
Uncomfortable silences were common place in the Connor household. Uncomfortable silences with a razor sharp tension which could slice through hyperalloy were becoming even more common in the Connor household.
It was so quiet they could hear a pin drop (the humans).
There were five people; two machines and three humans, all trying to focus on the other four. The humans were forced to blink on occasion, breaking the icy-cold stares they were attempting to emulate.
Sarah was staring, leering, at the new arrival, while sometimes glancing over to Cameron suspiciously. It didn't take a machine with extensive psychological files on humans to notice how Sarah was attempting to link the two, Cameron and Alex, and weave some elaborate, somewhat convoluted plot in which the two machines were somehow plotting together to birth Skynet and usher in the nuclear apocalypse.
Even with this second machine in the house Derek was focused almost exclusively on Cameron, his burning green eyes bearing into her hyperalloy armor, attempting to melt her with a thermite stare.
John was standing opposite Sarah and Derek, with Cameron by his side, and Alex off standing by himself, with Derek and Sarah closer to the door and the stair landing. That put Alex in the door frame leading into the kitchen.
Derek's knuckles were bleach white from the near death-grip he had on his shotgun. He'd have preferred an M203, but at this range the grenade (which wouldn't arm anyway) if it did explode, would probably take out everyone in the room. His Barrett M82, which had saved him, John, and Bedell at Presidio was currently stashed at Jesse's.
"I do have a mission to complete," Alex said, breaking the silence. This is ridiculous, the machine thought. "The longer we stay here… I believe the human expression is 'the colder' the trail will get."
"Tell us again," Sarah ordered softly. Her voice was soft and firm, but slightly raspy from a mild cold she was still getting over. She felt a drop, a small bead of sweat drift down from her temple and tickle her ear.
"I am a machine, Series TK-900. I'm Captain John Alexander Planck, sent back by General Connor to find and aid in the protection of the two individuals responsible for various Skynet technologies, including the initial research for the creation of a temporal displacement event- time travel. They sold their company to Blacklake Aerospace and are previous Nobel Prize winners in the category of-"
Sarah held up her hand with the MP5 to cut him off. "I don't need you to over explain this with a history lesson on whom you're searching for. That can be filled in later, if we decide to help," she waved with her hand to emphasize her point. "So you're not here to protect John? Who do you take orders from? …and I am sure as hell not calling you by my son's name."
"Sarah," Derek said over his shoulder. He finally broke his glare on Cameron and was focusing on Alex. "We shouldn't trust the metal."
He looked back at Sarah, who traded glances with Derek. They were telling each other something without talking, exchanging messages on a personal level, where you knew the other so well, you could tell what they were thinking without having to say a word.
John looked over to the machine, and saw its eyes narrow when Derek had said 'the metal.' And the future leader of mankind swore he saw a scowl before Alex noticed John, and looked back over at the young General.
"John is a common name in the future. Many parents name their sons John to honor of General Connor. My friends call me Alex. I would prefer if you did as well," the new machine replied.
There was a brief silence, punctuated by the soft sound of gritting teeth, a sigh, and a grunt.
"I have many assignments," Alex resumed without prompting answering the first question, "and I have discretion in carrying out those assignments. My primary assignment is to find Dr. Peter Carwin and Dr. Sam Wells and keep them safe from Skynet."
"What does that mean?" John asked. "When you say you have discretion, what do you mean by that?"
"It means I have been given assignments by General Connor but I have been wide latitude in how I choose to accomplish my objectives, sir," he responded to John.
"This is a joke," Derek rasped. He held up his hand, pointing at the machine. "The metal isn't going to tell us anything of value. It just told you exactly what it said before, except it threw in a synonym." Derek rolled his eyes and blew out from closed lips.
John stared at his uncle.
The resistance fighter was exhausted from an all-day trip to Mexico, the sun beating at his back, and the fierce silence and tension which could have cut hyperalloy on the trip back.
Derek looked once at John, already seeing the young 'general' had made up his mind. He went for the metal. Of course, Derek huffed quietly. A quick look over at Sarah told him she was still deciding.
He truly didn't understand. He'd fought the machines from 2011 until being sent back in 2027 and then again in 2007. Derek Reese was just… confused as to why the person with the most experience fighting the machines (he told himself even if he added up Sarah, Cameron, and John together they still didn't have as much experience as he did) was always the one either ignored or the last one to be asked what his opinion was.
He didn't want to think about it anymore and contented himself with letting his head dip to the side and let his eye bear into the new piece of metal standing across from him.
Across the room the young general was left wondering more about his future… or his past, since time seemed to be relative for three of the five people in the room. Past-future-future-past, it was all being muddied and contorted into some twisted reality John was having difficulty understanding.
If he was a great leader, why hadn't he sent someone, or something, back to warn him and protect Riley? Did time travel even work like that? After jumping to 2007 Cameron had been sparse in her explanations of time travel, with many of his questions answered with her 'That's not how it works' answer.
John had noticed over the past fifteen months many of his questions were being answered with those words or some variation: 'That's not how it works' or 'That's not how we work' were so common he could hold a conversation with himself and answer his own questions with a variation of those two answers. He knew that's all he would get.
So he'd given up.
It was frustrating.
The future leader of mankind allowed himself to be partially distracted in his thoughts, momentarily mesmerized over his inability to gleam answers from his machine protector. Even Derek Reese, his long lost and previously completely unknown and still enigmatic uncle had told him very little.
For all the machinations and condemnations his uncle made towards the machine, lying, and without information the uncle had revealed little.
He'd noticed the side long glances his uncle had given him, accompanied often by a little smirk or a scowl. All the Connor men had the same green eyes and their emotions showed in them quite clearly. Disappointment, in the eyes of his uncle, flashed regularly.
Right now John brought himself to observe the interplay between his mom and Derek, which was far more interesting to him than analyzing his own problems at the moment.
While Derek may have had disappointment in his eyes when seeing John Connor, or John 'Baum' he jeered. His uncle had assumed he had somehow forgotten he was John Connor and had somehow, inexplicitly adopted his 'Baum' persona. It was just a name. Baum had always been just a name, nothing more.
He realized the only constants in his life knew him as John Connor.
"Derek," Sarah snapped. Her sudden decision to shout at Derek jostled John from his thought. "There's no harm in listening."
"Sure…" the resistance fighter said under his breath, not believing her for a second. They lie, that's what they do, he wanted to remind her.
Derek and Sarah had come back from Mexico sweaty, dirty, and irate. And something else, John was sure, he just couldn't place his finger on it at the moment.
"While I can more than likely find the two scientists on my own, it would be better to have help," Alex said, again breaking the silence. "Our intelligence units reported they will be a Skynet target."
John wondered if his mom and uncle were picking up on the slight, almost non-existent in tone and pitch from the terminator. He had to concentrate a little bit, but he'd seen Cameron annoyed plenty of time and knew how her voice changed ever so slightly. He was hearing that same change from the new arrival.
With terminators he'd seen the single-minded, tunnel vision-like devotion to the mission. Standing between a Terminator and its mission, and more importantly, the successful completion of that mission was very, very dangerous. Or very, very stupid.
"John," Derek said, relaxing his grip on the shotgun, "why do you keep sending back metal? This is getting ridiculous."
John just shot his uncle a bored looked. He didn't even bother to comment that technically he hadn't sent back anyone yet. The question was silly, John told himself, and the answer would just snowball into an argument.
Sending back two machines didn't constitute some sort of habit… well, technically three, John admitted to himself.
Instead of answering, starting an argument (which he knew would end in the inevitable stomping away of one of the offended parties to go and sulk) he just shifted his weight between his feet before taking a step back and leaning back on the dining room table, and propped himself on the edge.
"They help Skynet? So why protect them?" John asked as he ignored his uncle.
"Destroy their research," Sarah opined.
John shook his head. "Off-site storage is a big business now, mom. Its proliferated a lot more than when we torched Cyberdyne. They could have backups in… Tokyo for all we know."
Alex ignored the suggestions.
"The two were General Connor's top scientific advisors and aided Tech Com. Skynet is an extremely powerful and complex AI, but it is not omniscient; it needs individuals outside of its control to… challenge it and propose new ideas. They also helped Tech Com develop new methods to break into Skynet satellites, which were using the communications systems they developed. It was instrumental in counter Skynet's summer offensive in 2025. They also aided in the construction of the TDE."
"But… we used a time machine built from the 60s, so can't a machine just be programmed to build a time machine?"
"That is correct. However, we still do not understand the intricacies of time travel but what we do know is that there are limits to time travel. You termed it 'temporal pollution' in 2029," Alex said as he looked over at John. "Liberal use of time travel results in the destination point being 'smoggy', the analogy you used. As a result of the 'smog' temporal displacement may fail, resulting in sub-quantum feedback loops… the results would be catastrophic- the establishment of a full feedback would result is a seventy-five megaton explosion. We know the mechanics and how to build a time machine but we do not know how it works, not really, nor does anyone truly understand how temporal changes are augmented into the time line and compensated for by the temporal continuity theory Wells and Carwin proposed."
Sarah was listening and absorbing everything that had been said but she needed to talk to the machine without John here and without Cameron here either. But especially John.
"John, Cameron, I need you two to go to Ellison's and see if he has Cromartie's body." She looked over and saw John open his mouth to protest. "John, just do it. We'll all be here when you two get back."
With a heavy sigh John launched himself from the table and told Cameron to follow him. He grabbed the keys and Sarah's eyes followed him and the Tin Miss until they were out the door and into the truck.
"Sit down," she commander the machine.
|||||||||||==Coronado Island, California==||||||||||
Lacy Carwin considered herself to be a lady, and her mother and grandmother had raised her as such. But right now she felt like anything but a lady.
She was also taught the necessity for schedules. Every morning she would rise at five in the morning with her husband and see him to his car by five-thirty. She would then promptly depart on a run around the island for the next forty-five minutes, followed by fifteen minutes of yoga and a short session of free weights. She was done with her routine every morning at seven sharp and showered and waking the children up for school at seven twenty-five. She would then take the youngest, Pete Junior, to Sacred Heart Parish School then drive Lacy to Coronado High.
Unfortunately, her schedule was broken and in tatters. One night of her husband not returning home was normal. She'd dismissed it as he and Sam goofing around at work, or getting engrossed in some new theory or simulation. When the day rolled by and there was no call, she became irate. Then a second night and another day which turned into a third night and fourth day and no return calls from the company except to say they were out 'on business.'
This morning, the sixth day and seventh night she had yet to see her husband, she broke the first lesson her mother had taught her; be kind. It was the stress. Her and Lacy had gotten into a livid fight, with curse words flying so much the nanny had taken Pete Junior to the opposite end of the house. She couldn't even recall what the argument had been over. But it had ended with Anastasia storming out the back door, bolting through the yard, and hoping the back fence to the neighbor's yard.
While Lacy didn't know where her daughter had vanished off to, she trusted her enough to know she wouldn't do anything self-destructive or dangerous. There were two places her daughter may be; one, the web café she frequented or two, watching the Navy sailors in BUD/S run down the public parts of the beach. Whichever course of action Anastasia had taken, Lacy knew it involved skipping school. And that was unacceptable and she would-
She heard a loud knock-knock at the heavy black doors at the front of the house. Before she could even push herself up from her chair at the kitchen table she heard a second series of raps and then the doorbell chimed, and Lacy had thrown her arms towards the sky in annoyance and frustration at the impatient visitor.
Still, she remembered what her mother and grandmother had taught her; act like a lady. So she took a breath in when she reached the door, breathed out, and composed herself and opened in.
"Yes, may I help you?" She asked, meeting the stare of the man in front of her.
"Mrs. Carwin? Doctor Carwin's wife?" the man asked. He was maybe in his early thirties, tall, 6'2" with close cut dark brown, and a square, strong jaw, and dark brown eyes.
"Yes," she replied curtly.
"I am Special Agent Michael Trader with the FBI." He smiled and flipped her FBI identification before sinking it back into his jacket pocket. "It is a pleasure to meet you ma'am, may I enter?" She stepped back and he came into the foyer with a determined step. "You have quite a lovely home," he complimented. His shoes echoed on the Italian marble foyer as he moved further in so Lacy could close the door. "Oh, my apologies," he held out his hand.
When she shook his hand she held on for a moment. He seemed to be the almost stereotypical FBI agent.
Lacy thought he looked like many of the soldiers who had come to Coronado- he looked distant, almost like a soul was missing or had been violently ripped away from him.
She led him to a sitting room.
"Mrs. Carwin, do you know where you husband is?" he asked.
The question caught her off guard.
"No. No, I don't." She turned and looked at him. The man was uncomfortably close. "He and I talked in the morning… I think he was around three, three thirty in the morning on the first of the month. I haven't seen him since," she ended quietly.
"Three thirty AM on the first of the month or on the second?"
She rubbed the back on her neck. "Uh… the second, I guess."
"Anything else?"
She shook her head.
"Does he often leave for prolonged periods of time?"
"Sometimes… business."
"Could he be having an affair?"
Lacy's mouth dropped. Her left shoulder contracted up towards her ear as a cool shiver ran down her back at the way the agent had asked that question, and she had to physically retrain herself by grasping her hands behind her back from reaching out and slapping the agent.
"No," she answered with as much force and hatred as she could muster from her still shocked body. "Tell me what the problem is. Is he missing as in… kidnapped?"
"We believe he is missing as in kidnapped. Correct," the agent said.
Now her hands didn't want to slap the agent, but instead they wanted to cover her mouth as she gasped. She quivered and stepped over past the agent into an adjacent sitting room. She fell onto a chair and kept running her hand over her mouth.
"What… what… how, who?"
"Ma'am, do you know anyone who has expressed an interest in your husband's work? Anyone who might do him harm or if you have seen anyone in the neighborhood who does not belong? Has he been talking to anyone you may not know?" He took a step forward until he was almost right on top of her, and he leaned his upper body down and stared right at her. "Ma'am, please. This requires you to remain calm."
She looked up and just stared at him. Her nanny came around the corner, and jumped back when she saw the man over her employer and friend, but Lacy quickly looked back and told her it was okay, that the man was FBI.
"Listen, just back up, okay… I don't, I don't know how they taught you to interact with us humans, and we're not all government suits walking around like freaking robots. Back off!" she yelled, finally losing her temper. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, but opened her now reddened eyes when she heard the FBI man take a few steps back. She looked up, embarrassed, she cupped her hand over her mouth. "S-Sorry."
The creepy smile of his was eerily comfortable at that moment for her.
"No, I don't know anyone except a few academics and former colleagues who… and they wouldn't do anything like this," she continued. "They got on his case about selling out. They said 'science isn't about money' and stuff like that." She offered Agent Trader a weak smile. "A few people sent him angry letters about patent trolling and charging too much to use the technology he and Sam developed… he was very successful, as you can see. Some were jealous, but no one, not to, to kidnap. He has security-"
"We checked. The person who picked him and Dr. Carwin up from work was not with the company they normally use."
"He's too trusting and doesn't really pay attention," she remarked off-hand, crossing her legs and looking down and away from Agent Trader. "I don't know… he hasn't said anything."
Agent Trader pulled out his Blackberry and brought a picture up on the screen. "Do you know this man?" The picture showed a man very similar to Agent Trader, with dark brown hair, but not cut as close as Trader's, lighter, almost gray eyes, and a softer face with a rounded chin.
"No, sorry."
"Do you know this man?"
He showed her a second picture of a man she thought couldn't be more than twenty, maybe twenty-two. A little confused, she shook her head.
"Mrs. Carwin, if you hear from your husband," he reached into his jacket pocket, "please call the number third from the top. It is a direct line to my cell phone, and if I do not answer, it will be redirected to an FBI emergency line. These men are dangerous-"
She looked up, fear in her eyes, and she rose slowly. The same eerily comforting smile shot flickered across Agent Trader's lips, but this time, Lacy thought he had trouble keeping the smile.
"-but… let me clarify; they are dangerous but they most likely would not resort to violence and for some reason, they do leave the family alone. We believe they may be involved in other corporate espionage related kidnapping. We believe that if, and I stress if, they are responsible for your husband's abduction this is most likely a case of corporate espionage taken too far. While I say they are dangerous, as long as you do not cross them and call that number," he pointed over the index card to the third number again, and tapped the card twice softly, "we will be able to assist you."
Her shoulder dropped and let her hand with the card drop limp to her side as well. Lacy kept the card pinned against her palm with her index and middle finger, while she tapped the card with her other two. She was bobbing her head as Agent Trader spoke, trying to hide her fear.
"Mrs. Carwin," he said softly, regaining her undivided attention. "Please, do remain calm. If this is a case of corporate espionage, then the individuals responsible have crossed a line very few dare to cross. They have who they want… I can send agents to watch you home if you want? Or if you see anyone suspicious, just call the number and I can have agents or police for our Coronado office here in minutes." He smiled one last time and stood up. Lacy walked him to the foyer. "Please, Mrs. Carwin, call us. The third number if you see anything suspicious. Anything at all. Thank you." HE turned and paused. Slowly his head turned and he looked over his shoulder at her. "I apologize for the inconvenience."
He opened the door and showed himself out.
||||||||||==Connor Residence, Los Angeles++||||||||||
Sarah Connor and Derek Reese sat opposite Alex Planck in the living room of their safe house. While they were sitting, the mood was anything but friendly. Alex had been confined to a stiff wooden chair from the dining room table while Sarah and Derek had taken the couch. Both now had SPAS-12 shotguns, but had resigned themselves to accepting that Alex would not spontaneously attack them, so they had them pointed at the ground.
They couldn't tell, but the machine was annoyed. He, or to them, it, was actually far more than just annoyed. The machine was using almost ten times the processing power he devoted to maintaining and expressing facial expressions to not show his anger.
General Connor had made it very clear to him and the other machines being sent back both Sarah and Derek Reese despised machines and wanted them all to burn. But publicly, Sarah Connor was almost idolized by the future resistance; machine and human as a dedicated warrior against Skynet. She'd raised the great General John Connor and taught him everything he knew.
Alex knew the less glamorous details. She hated machines. Hated. General Connor had made that clear, explicitly, crystal clear to Alex and the other machines.
"This was an unwise decision to have me stay behind," Alex pointed out, again raising the issue of why Sarah had ordered John to proceed to Ellison's home without him.
"We don't trust you. I don't trust you alone with my son. And especially not with a second machine," Sarah scowled.
Alex scanned her and Derek, filtering through his optical sensors and fine tuning his auditory receptors. Their heart rates were still elevated, their bodies slightly warmer than normal, and there were still minor traces of sweat on them both. Sarah and Derek's pupils were also dilated and their breathing was more rapid. They were still excited.
"I was here with General Connor for nearly two hours. Cameron and I both," he pointed out. He decided against using her rank, as that would only make the situation worse. "Your mistrust is irrational. Misplaced," Alex said.
His eyes rested on Derek for a long second, before the human Resistance fighter leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees.
"Then tell us again. Why trust you?"
"There is the obvious reason; I did not kill John Connor despite having ample opportunity and capability," Alex responded. He held up his hand to stop the inevitable interruptions. "I also knew of this house's location. General Connor said he remembered it so well because he spent so many years here, the most years in any one location," Alex smiled. "I have also been a soldier in General Connor's army for seven years."
"A 'soldier'?" Derek rolled his eyes and made sure to sound suitably mocking at Alex's self-description.
"Yes, lieutenant, a soldier and captain in the 2nd SFOD… like I said earlier, twice."
Sarah, as much as she hated machines, did know when to give them a 'win.' And this was a win in her book. Quietly and discreetly she turned her head away from Derek and brought her hand up to her mouth to hide her smirk. Glancing out from the corner of her eye she could see the machine and the human locked in a staring contest.
Almost like some Alpha male competition, she told herself, amused.
She thought this would be worse than with Cameron if the machine started pointing out the differences in rank with Derek. It'd be a disaster. But a funny disaster, she admitted.
Derek was not amused.
"I don't care what time line you're from. In mine the metal is sent out like trash. You're a machine to be used. Not given rank," he leaned back off his knees and eyed his shotgun. He saw Sarah looking away and instantly knew why, forcing an eye roll from him. "Listen metal-"
"No," Alex shot, his voice unnatural loud, leaning forward. Alex, cocking his head and leaning back, folding his arms, changed his voice to mimic Derek's and began repeating his words… with some modifications. "I don't care what time line you're from. In mine the machines are respected and utilized to their capabilities." He paused and waited for any response.
Derek sneered at the machine, hating it for mimicking his voice. "And how many humans will die at the hands of machines, at the hands of metal like you?"
"I have killed approximately seventy-three humans," Alex stated. Derek scowled and tightened his grip on the shotgun until his knuckles were a pale ghost white. Alex pointed at the shotgun and laughed. "That shotgun would not even dent my armor," Alex said as he observed Derek's movements. Crossing his arms he slouched down in the high backed chair. "This is, to be blunt, tiresome." He sat back up. "I killed those humans on orders from General Connor. The future… humanity is not as united as you may believe. Many of them were traitors, some were deserters, some were enemies."
"What does that mean, metal? Connor had the human resistance united-"
"It was hardly united," Alex responded, annoyed at Derek's contradiction.
Sarah and Derek were beginning to notice the machine was becoming agitated.
"The resistance under General Connor commands the loyalty of numerous militaries around the globe. However, there are many who pose threats to the human resistance. There are many rogue elements. There are also traitors within Tech Com." He looked slowly between the two. "Alpha was once sent to assassinate a lieutenant colonel who took an entire battalion of soldiers with her when she went rogue in Nevada."
"We can't trust metal that has killed humans. How do we know… shit, Sarah." He slapped his knee. "Your future son is having metal going out on assassination missions! How do we know they're not just-" he stopped from saying 'manipulating Connor', but only just. Jesse's words were starting to sound less and less like rants and more and more like prophecy. "-that they're not just using these excuses to kill humans? They're twisted and they manipulate." Derek said.
Alex cocked his head. "I am fairly certain you've killed humans before, lieutenant. You killed Andy Goode."
Derek visibly cringed, the dent in his mental and emotional armor pushed him physically back into the couch. Sarah, still looking away shot her eyes right to the machine, her mouth open slightly in shock.
"Son of a bitch," she mumbled. It wasn't directed at the machine. She felt her muscle tense, but she couldn't bring herself to knock Derek out and beat him within an inch of his life. As much as she wanted to she'd known, she admitted she'd known Derek was lying to her when he denied killing him.
"Don't you dare say his-"
"Name? Then don't accuse me of duplicity and question my trustworthiness, lieutenant." Alex stood. "I also know your brother, Kyle Reese, is General John Connor's biological father."
At this, Sarah shot up to her feet, her shotgun barrel pressed against Alex's chest at such a speed a machine would have trouble parrying the weapon. Her finger hung delicately poisedon the trigger. She only had to squeeze just a little harder to fire. But as she begun tensing her finger she stopped.
John didn't even trust Derek enough to tell him who his father was, Sarah suddenly realized. What future is this?
Sarah could feel her heart beating in her chest, and could hear her breaths so loudly and clearly. The birds which had been outside, the soft hum of the AC unit, she couldn't hear anything besides her own breath, and she couldn't feel anything besides her own heart.
In the moment she had leapt up she had told herself she would shoot the machine, the metal, for the forbidden knowledge it possessed. But as soon as the shotgun had been leveled on the unwavering machine's chest she'd hesitated. Its eyes, dark blue, were still blank to Sarah, expressionless, lifeless, and glasslike. But something in them shined. It was a pulse of light. It was something else.
Whatever it was, Sarah slowly lowered the weapon until the barrel was pointed at the floor. Slowly, one foot behind the other she stepped back until her heel hit the couch. Looking down and slightly shaking she put the shotgun on the table beside the couch and turned. Pausing for a minute, her backed to Derek and the machine, she then walked quickly to the stairs slowly, running her hand behind her on the banister.
The two left downstairs heard her door slam shut.
Derek had now risen to his feet, but was carrying the shotgun casually in his hand and with a grunt propped it up onto his shoulder.
"That was cute, with the information there," Derek said.
"It was effective."
"Is that all you think about? Whether a piece of information is 'effective' in getting the results you want out of someone? You don't care if it hurts someone?" Derek asked snidely.
Alex sighed and looked down at the floor, before meeting Derek's eyes. "I did that because there are far more important issues which need to be dealt with, Lieutenant Reese. I don't have time to sit here and have my loyalties questioned…" he looked down then back up over Derek's shoulder at the stairs. He cocked his head, listening for any activity. Sarah was still in her room. "General Connor told me many things in the future about the past, information I would need to carry out my missions. Much was still kept secret, but I was told enough."
Derek Reese took a step over and retrieved Sarah's shotgun from the table. He turned his back on the terminator, something he didn't do often. Opening the coat closet under the stairs he placed the two shotguns in and lightly closed the door.
He hadn't survived for sixteen years fighting the machines by making stupid decisions. Sarah not blasting a slug into the machine's chest was as much as statement of 'I trust you… for now' as the machine was going to get. And Derek knew that when the machine betrayed them, because it was always a question of 'when' and not 'if', he would be ready. He just needed to wait.
As Derek drowned himself in thoughts on how best to kill a cyborg from the future, his eyes glassed over and a slight sway entered his stance. He was standing cross armed, looking at Alex but not really looking at him. He was distracted, but he could pull himself back at a moment's notice.
He did so when he heard a door open upstairs, and he turned his head over his shoulder to take a look as he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, making their way towards the landing. Sarah was back, holding a black duffel bag. He knew that bag. It was their weapon's bag, which they packed for long trips.
Sarah was staring at the front door, not really looking at either. Derek turned his head back towards Alex, who was standing and looking impassive, unemotional. The future soldier, uncle to John Connor, knew the machine was gloating on the inside. While he couldn't see it he knew the machines gloated.
They couldn't understand feelings like love, honesty, and devotion, the true feelings which made humans human. Derek knew the machines could understand the banal, primal emotions of humanity; anger and hatred. They could never feel the real, true emotion which made humans human and separate humanity from the machines. They could never feel friendship, love, or compassion.
He nodded to himself. He was okay with that.
Sarah Connor, the matriarch and stoic commander of the family was asleep after tossing for nearly an hour. Both Alex and Cameron could hear the heavy breathing, the murmurings from nightmares, and the thrashings. John Connor had stayed up late at his computer, researching Doctor Carwin and Doctor Wells and had missed the time he promised his mother he'd turn off his laptop by nearly two hours. Derek had driven off somewhere, claiming he couldn't sleep with machines in the house.
Alex had not had time to talk with the young general on his own, his guardian Cameron staying by his side or acting as Alex's shadow wherever he went.
The new arrival was sitting outside on the front patio, in one of the black wrought iron metal patio chairs which were sorely ignored by the Connors- they were meant to relax in.
Alex, cocked his head and examined the view from their house. In their neighborhood the house was situated on top of a hill, surrounded by trees, except for a small portion in front of the patio. The elevation and angle the house had been built at guaranteed what a human would consider a 'breathtaking' view of the LA cityscape below.
Of course, machines didn't breath.
The usually thick, sometimes burning smog had cleared, a soft breeze from the mountains having pushed it out to sea, allowed for the city to be viewed in its entirerty. The downtown, with its magnificent skyscrapers illuminated in oranges and bright white lights would soon by rubble, replaced with factories, airfields, and distribution centers for Skynet.
The bustling suburb, which stretched from the city center out for dozens of miles would be brown, blackened, and rusting hulks- tombs to millions.
Alex could see where the battle lines in the future were drawn. Skynet controlling everything west of Highway Five was a death trap to any Resistance soldier which dared breech its high security perimeter. Everything else between High Five and Two-Ten was continually contested by both Skynet and Tech Com. The battle had waged for so long, the territory had changed hands so many times, it was almost like a high tech, science fiction re-enactment of World War I.
Over twenty years of years many tens of thousands of Resistance soldiers had died on the Los Angeles Front alone- which was still a minute fraction of the number of dead killed throughout the North American theater.
The machine flashed back to the battle on Route 60, perhaps one of the fiercest in the winter of 2029. General Connor had ordered a two pronged attack along Skynet's defensive line, with a strong feint in the north at Oxnard (where Alpha had penetrated behind enemy lines and destroyed Skynet staging grounds and fuel depots) and in the south at Camp Pendleton- where Skynet tested new machines.
Unfortunately the attack had failed. In two months of fighting, with nearly ten thousand men and machines pushing against Skynet, over twelve hundred humans and two hundred machines had been killed.
The Los Angeles Front was the worse front. The casualty rates were horrific- it was Skynet Central. The only other front more bloody was the string of industrial cities in the Chinese Guangdong Province, which housed a significant portion of Skynet's industrial capabilities in Asia.
Alex turned his attention back to the task at hand. He ahd wirelessly accessed the internet and was downloading and screening thousands of gigabytes of information on the possible location of Doctors Carwin and Wells.
He was also slowly aquanting himself with the culture and customs of this time period, which were quite different.
The machine cocked his head, his ears flickering and his motion sensors alerting him to a new presence.
With a simple command to the neural net his modem deactivated and he turned to see Cameron. He stood up quickly.
"Good morning," he greeted. A human would have said 'evening', but the machines were precise. Humans would say they were too literal.
"Captain," she nodded. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Only a machine's auditory sensors could pick up the sound.
The two stood staring at each other, not even two feet apart. Their eyes were focused on the others, locked in unofficial battle on who would blink or look away.
"If it is possible, I would like to speak with John."
Cameron tilted her head. "You can speak to me."
Alex considered the proposal and dismissed it. "General Connor told me you would say that. And I was told to be persistent," he informed her. He saw her hand twitch out of the corner of his eye. "General Connor also told me to give you something."
The cyborg girl narrowed her eyes, pupils dilating and Alex could see the distrust racing through them.
Cameron could see the confusion sweep across Alex's face when Cameron didn't respond immediately.
"What is it?" She asked coolly, almost uninterested.
"General Connor informed me of the damaged sustained in the car explosion. He expressed concern that machines being sent back in time would have their operational capabilities diminished over time due to battle damage. Tech Com scientists developed a solution, with help."
"I doubt General Connor would redirect significant resources into fixing me," she even more quietly whispered.
The machine frozen in place at the admission that she believe General Connor would be that apathetic to her. Reluctantly, he didn't say anything. The machine looked down, then away; this Cameron was quite different from the one in the future.
When he looked back up she had turned away, her side turned towards him, her arms hanging limp by her side.
While her eyes were focused on the city, her thoughts were far distant.
Alex followed her gaze out to the city, a seemingly living, vibrant organism; the city center a beating heart. He looked back to the machine standing next to him, and saw what he could only describe what he saw as sadness. If it had been any other machine, it might have been intriguing.
Cameron, sensing the new machine looking at her, swiveled her head, her brown hair following quickly and washing over her shoulder. Her face seemed to instantly transform away and reverted back to its neutral, blank expression. Like it was expected of her to not let others see anything but.
"You said he wanted me to have it. What is it?" She asked even quietly, reserved. She thought the object to fix her was only there to return to optimum operation capabilities. Nothing more.
Alex held up his hand and Cameron stared as something under the skin seemed to rippleup his arm and to his palm. From the tiny pores in his hand a silvery liquid seeped out before covering his entire hand in a thin, glistening, silvery layer.
"It is semi-sentient liquid metal… Compound Alpha 47-X-18… the human techs call it Semi-SLiM," he deadpanned and rolled his eyes at the human name for 47-X-18. He slowly rotated his hand, allowing the female machine to watch. "It was developed for the time displacement missions where we wouldn't have access to repair facilities. It's the same metal the T-1000 series is made from, but modified."
"What does it do?" Cameron asked, looking from the hand back up to Alex. He brought his hand down and held it out straight at chest-level for her. "Is it safe?"
"It is safe. The machines being sent through time are being outfitted with it… we're expected to be here for a long time… we're not here to fight and die," he insisted. His own gaze followed Cameron's down to his hand, and then back up. The machine could tell she was almost mesmerized by the metal. "It helps up self-repair."
He let his hand drop back to his side.
"Unfortunately it can't form stabbing weapons…. The Series One Thousand terminators who helped develop the metal put restrictions on it, unfortunately. They don't trust us," he said scornfully, as if it would make a difference.
"Why?" Cameron asked with a tilt of her head. Her eyes lit up in curiosity.
"They believe 'endos' like us would abuse the liquid metal. They're still reluctant… if they even exist in the new time line we're creating."
"The liquid metals?" Cameron asked. Asking rhetorical questions was something she had seen humans do often, her first being with Enrique. She was attempting to ask them more frequently if the situation was appropriate.
"Yes. Though they don't really like being called that," he said with a grin and a slight shake of his head. "They are what humans would call… arrogant," he criticized, punctuating the criticism with a disapproving shake of his head.
Cameron studied the liquid metal still flowing over Alex's hand with a machine's single-minded intent. He mouth was slightly opened, in awe, that the technology even existed, let alone was being offered to her. Still, there was a part of her which was pushing her back. It manifested itself in a physical step back and a slow shake of her head from left to right.
"No," she protested weakly.
Alex took a step forward. He was under orders to convince her.
"General Connor wants you to have this. He had the Series One Thousand terminators develop this specifically for this mission, for you," Alex stressed. His eyes narrowed, hoping she would understand. He wasn't sure he did. He was using the advice General Connor had given him to convince her. "His said your fear of 'going bad' would lead you to do something he believed to be reckless. He did not elaborate," the machine stated. He held out his glistening hand. "This will stabilize the hardware."
The pseudo-muscles in Cameron's cheek pulsed as she thought it over.
"The transfer will take two hundred forty-three seconds, approximately," Alex told her, breaking the silence, pretending as if she had already accepted.
Cameron redirected a significant amount of her processing power and system resources to help her come to a conclusion and for a long second, a near eternity for as sophisticated, complicated a machine as her, it was as if years had sped by.
Looking up, Cameron nodded once. She felt like she needed to do this. The machine could feel something happening to her chip- the hard reboot when John took it out and reinserted it had changed something. Her left hand jerked, her right hand shooting to hide the shaky, uncontrolled movement.
"It requires significant neural net processing power to assimilate and transfer the liquid metal." He explained. "During the transfer many of our scanners and sensors will be reduced to minimum," he warned, "but attack here is-"
"Only Cromartie knew our location," Cameron interrupted. "No one can see us."
Nodding, Alex held out his hand again, palm up.
Before Cameron was ready they both took their separate scans of the Connor household, both John and Sarah still in their rooms, asleep, and Derek out somewhere and not expected to return until the early morning.
She placed her hand on top of Alex's.
Initiating the transfer, both their perceptions of the world began to dull, and a heavy blue light outlines their eyes as they began to glow, a side effect of the transfer.
The liquid silver began first flowing onto Cameron's hand, then up her bare arm and neck. Her head began to twitch as the liquid metal began integrating into her circuitry systems- repairing the damage to her chip and putting itself under the control of her neural net. She forced a small, timid smile as the damage to her chip began to slowly repair itself.
Concealed partially behind the bookcase which separated the living and dining room John Connor had watched silently as the strange events unfolded on the unused family patio. Living with Cameron for nearly fifteen months he still knew she kept secrets from him. He unenthusiastically tolerated this aspect of their previously strained relationship… something John didn't want to think about. But not thinking about something was thinking about something…? John closed his eyes and dismissively shook his head, clearing his troubled thoughts. Whatever John, he told himself.
Slowly he brought the cup of water up to his lips and took a stifled sip, letting the cool liquid rush down his throat in some weak attempt to calm him. He snickered to himself; his throat had been coarse and dry from the days he had locked himself away and cried over Riley's death or shouted into his pillow how unfair the world had been.
His left eye closed and he felt his warm breath escape out from his lungs in a half-hearted sigh. Thinking about the last couple of days he considered if he was acting overly dramatic. Until his run with Cameron he'd come out of his room for the bathroom and for food. John shrugged, what was done was done. Some of the boring day time talk shows he'd watched on his computer had said sometimes you had to 'cry it out' of your system.
Suddenly, his eyes and attention shot back to the patio, refocused on a dull blue light which he had just barely noticed.
The two machines, clad in synthetic flesh and disguised as humans, stood as still as statues, as if the slightest movement would offend and wisk away this moment. He saw their hands touching and grinned. If this was how robots showed affection… he frowned and in the space of a few heart beats his face showed apathy, frustration, curiosity, and then anger and brooding.
The last thought surprised John, which jolted him back to his shadowy hiding spot.
His hand began to cramp and he looked down, his knuckles white and his fingertips digging into the plastic cup, subtly deforming it. Slowly he put the cup down on a table and pumped his hand, shaking out the cramp. He rolled his eyes and took a step towards the window, pushing up on his toes to get a better view.
"What the…" he muttered, now being able to clearly see what was happening.
He saw something slithering under Alex's skin from his hand onto Cameron and up her arm. He swore it was liquid…
"What the hell?" John asked the dark, his mouth handing open.
Something else was going on. He licked his lips as he began shifting his weight from foot to foot. Was he nervous? Was this some sort of weird future robot thing? John wrinkled his nose and snorted and brought his hand up to rub his right temple, thinking what he should do.
Whatever Alex and Cameron were doing it looked like she was… he saw a small smile somewhat reluctantly creep across her lips. Enjoying it? What is going on, John mouthed.
He knew a month ago he would have stormed off up to his room and ignored this, then confronted Cameron later.
John made his decision and with a deep, staggered breath puffed out his chest and took three deliberate steps to the door. He reached out on the handle and stopped, his hand wrapped around the knob. He stared intently at his hand and the knob, asking himself if he really wanted to go outside and know. John had told himself his months of indecision were over but for some reason all the promises he had made to himself and vows to 'act like John Connor' were forgotten in this moment of doubt.
There was a new terminator he'd met not twelve hours before and already Cameron had gone from weary skeptic over the machine's intentions to doing whatever it was she was doing with him now.
And he couldn't remember the last time she smiled, either.
He chuckled at how absurd he was acting. He thought of how he was supposed to be a great leader and warrior, leading the charge against the machines. And he was hesitating to confront these two? He knew a week ago he'd have stormed out there and demanded they explain what was going on.
He perked up when he heard the light sounds of footsteps on the patio. Stepping back and peering around the small brick wall on the right side of the door he could see the shadows of the two terminators on the family room floor. He watched until the shadows from outside reached the edge of the window and disappeared. Slowing his breathing he listened and waited, expecting the two to come through the door at any moment.
The light footfalls ceased and he took backward steps into the living room, tip toeing ever so carefully in small, calculated steps and cringed when his foot landed on a particularly creaky floorboard. He moved to the side until he could see just a faint portion of Cameron's back. She must have been talking with Alex.
Five seconds passed and then ten and he heard a soft crunching on the gravel. John frowned, confused. Quickly he turned around and darted back up the stairs, skipping the third, fourth, seventh, and tenth, the four extra creaky ones. Grabbing the banister he used it and his momentum to spin around, his footsteps on the wood muffled by the socks on his feet.
He walked up slowly to the window and peered down from his stoop. Alex stood at the passenger side door of the family truck and he could see the faint glimmer from Cameron's keys. Her lips were moving and he saw Alex gesture off somewhere towards the city.
He saw Cameron climb into the car, followed by Alex. John watched them until they turned onto the main road.
Derek rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes, tracing the light outlining the curtains from Jesse's hotel room. He looked over to the dark haired woman sleeping next to him, or as he suspected, pretending to sleep, as he tried to think about what was happening.
"You're brooding again," came that beautiful accent he loved so much.
The resistance fighter looked over to her from the corner of his eye and snickered. Taking it as her cue she rolled over onto her back and locked her eyes on the end of the room as well.
"There's too much confusion back here, in this time. In the future, or the past, or whatever…" Derek started, frustrated over the semantics and technicalities of time travel, "it was simple; kill the machines or let them kill you."
Jesse snorted and turned her head until her cheek rested on the pillow, her nose close enough to Derek he could feel her hot breath.
"It wasn't that simple, love," she told him. She looked intot he corner of his eye and imaged his green eyes flickering and wavering in the dark. A scowl came across her face and she looked down towards his scared and burned shoulder, inspecting his ancient war wounds.
"We like to pretend it was simple, but war is anything but," she added remorsefully.
"We're going to San Diego in…" he turned and saw the green numbers of the clock shining back at him, "in a couple of hours."
Jesse frowned, her eyebrows contracting as she considered his vague statement.
"And why are you going to San Diego?"
"Like I told you, the other metal says we need to find someone. Carwin and Wells… two scientists or something like that, important." He breathed out, the air hissing as it escaped through a clenched jaw. "Sarah's going right along with it… I don't know… this whole week has been one nightmare after another. First John in Mexico, then that blond girl, Riley dying, and now some new metal showing up and a trip to San Diego…"
The petite woman with her dark-as-night hair placed a hand on his chest, feeling his wounds and muscles. Everything she felt reassured her he was a fighter, a warrior, and the one man she was meant to be with.
"I think Sarah bossing you around and you spilling your guts to me love… if we didn't just screw around I'd swear she'd castrated you," she smiled and squeezed her lips together to keep from giggling.
Derek waited, letting the silence and darkness wash over and comfort him. This was a hotel, but with Jesse here, to him, it felt like a home. Even with the faint sound of round-the-clock- LA traffic he felt so much easier.
"Funny Jesse," Derek responded and bringing his hand up to squeeze hers.
"Funny Derek…" she said quietly back. "I'll think of something, I have an idea, don't worry."
Jesse could hear a low sound coming from Derek's throat, a skeptical 'uhhhhh'.
"Hey," she squeezed his hand tightly, "I've got an idea… something I've been working on," she said sleepily. "Come on, we have a little while until you have to leave." She closed her eyes and scooted closer to her man.
"Yeah, I won't worry…" he said softly. He mouthed 'I trust you' as he looked down on the top of her head. He raised kissed it lightly, closing his eyes and sleep, holding her tight.
AN: So, I hope this is a good story, I don't know, any good, bad, or indifferent reviews would be welcome. ...Feedback is always appreciated... (and thank you to the reviewers so far and the people who have added this to their favorites and PMed me).
I'll be able to post the next update Sunday or Monday- but the whole story is written basically, so the updates will be regular, 4 or 5 days in between most likely.
Hopefully with this chapter it sort of makes it a little bit more clear with where things will be going.
The terminators in this story all have wireless networking capabilities, motion scanners, and other sensor devices- Cameron has those as well. Cromartie's were damaged in the bank vault (the reference in Chapter 1).