Emergence, Chapter 4
Five Hours Ago…
The CyberDyne office served as the home to Silberman's flock. The interior had been stripped down to the fittings by creditors milking the defunct corporation of every last dime. It had remained empty and silent since the police had finished their investigation and with California's economy in the toilet, no one ever came to look at the property to purchase it.
John let Cheri take him by the hand and lead him into the building through the shattered glass of one of the front doors. Cameron stepped carefully behind them both, remaining alert with one hand on the gun holstered at her hip. The three walked through the lobby, reduced to bare tile and devoid of furniture, and past a security door pulled off its hinges. Beyond the door was a short hallway and they passed doors marked 'Conf Room 1' and 'Shareholder Room' that lead into empty square rooms.
Two men stood at the end of the hallway, dressed in ill fitting and unmatched attire, with narrow, desperate faces. The beginning of beards showed on both their faces as they stared at the three approaching them.
"Is this him?" asked the one to John's right.
"Who's the girl?" The one to the left pointed at Cameron.
"We were hoping it'd just be you," Cheri whispered to John. "I don't know what they're going to think about that thing."
John nodded to Cheri and took a deep breath to keep himself steady. "I'm John Connor. That's Cameron, she's… a friend of mine."
"It's him!" said Right, giggling in glee and clapping his hands together.
Left smirked and jerked a thumb back at the door. "Yers in, then. Cheri'll take you to the boss man. Yers hot little friend gonna stay."
Cameron tilted her head and regarded Left with a blank expression and remained silent. The guard made no attempt to hide a wanton gaze that slid up and down the Terminator's form.
"Let's go..." Cheri tugged on John's hand, but he remained still.
"She's with me, you have to let her through," said John.
"W-we really should," whispered Right, voice childlike and frightened.
"Like shit we should. Boss man only said the one and it's just some punk kid, not no messiah like he said. He lets me does what I wants if I does what he says and he says let the punk in, so the punk's in. Little girl stays and I does what I wants with her." Left gave Cameron a lurid sneer as he slid a pistol out from under his shirt. Blood stained the grip.
"Just leave her, John. Let's go." Cheri tugged at his arm again.
Cameron began to step towards the armed guard, one hand on the gun at her own hip, as John ripped the pistol out from under his shirt and jammed it hard into the guard's jaw. Left's gaze had stuck so firmly to Cameron; he did not see John move at all.
"She's with me. Drop it and let her through." John pronounced each word slowly, pushing Left's head back with the muzzle of his gun as he spoke.
Left's gun clattered to the ground. "Heh. Heh heh. Yeah, yers the boss man now, Mr. Punk. Guess yers both through. Just, ya know, was makin' sure yers tough enough 'n shit. Yeah… just a little joke, see? Don't go hurtin' li'l ol' me, I'm yers buddy, ya see?"
Right giggled wordlessly and clapped his hands with manic glee.
John pulled the gun away from the guard and then slipped it back into his belt before giving the guard one last scowl. His hands disappeared into his pockets to hide that they were shaking. Cheri pulled him past the two guards, Cameron following behind once more, and into the large room beyond. His eyes widened as he looked around. "There must be two hundred people in here…"
Masses of blankets and humanity huddled and lay haphazardly around the room that stretched from one side of the building to another. None of the furniture remained with only the occasional steel pole descending from the ceiling to the floor covered in telephone jacks and power outlets. Trash and torn and discarded clothing and hospital gowns lay everywhere between where people slept and sat and pawed through battered bibles together.
"There were more." Silver haired and wearing a preacher's collar, the shepherd stood up from where he had been sitting with his flock and approached John. "But God has chosen that they should be martyrs for the cause and called them back to His side."
"Silberman."
John's last sight of the psychiatrist had been in Pescadero years ago while the psychiatrist tried to jab a sedative into his mother's arm. The Terminator, dubbed 'Uncle Bob' by John, had intervened and left Silberman staring dumbfounded. Silberman had been all but forgotten until his attempt to kill James Ellison.
"John." Silberman smiled and reached out to cover John's shoulder with one hand. "You've gotten older… but not much. How is that?"
"Rather not say." John shrugged out from under the shepherd's hand.
"Well, that's fair enough. And your friend you've brought. Is that the…?"
"Machine," said Cheri.
Cameron stopped watching the room for threats and turned her gaze on Silberman then. Her expression remained blank as she regarded the former psychiatrist, and under that gaze, Silberman visibly shivered.
Silberman forced a smiled back onto his features. "I've seen that look before. You don't say much, do you, miss?"
"No," said Cameron before turning her gaze back to the rest of the room.
"Probably for the best," muttered Silberman.
"Let's chat, Silberman," said John. "In private."
"Follow me." Silberman led them towards an empty conference room across from the door that they had just come through. They had to step gingerly over and around people and torn food wrappers that littered the floor.
As they reached the door, Silberman turned to Cheri. "Why don't you keep the young… lady… here company outside? I'd like to talk to John alone."
"But-but… you said I could… with John…" Cheri stammered with frustration before being shushed by Silberman holding a hand up.
John walked into the empty room ahead of Silberman, eyeing each corner of it warily with his hand on the grip of his gun. The preacher stepped in behind him and shut the door, leaving the girl and the machine that looked like a girl staring at each other outside.
"So, um, h-how have you been, Cameron?" asked Cheri.
The Terminator stared back at her silently.
Present
Alarms wailed through the headquarters of Cyber Research System as Catherine jogged after Carter. The chief of security put up a quick pace and seemed able to keep moving like this indefinitely. She had tossed her pumps two floors ago and now just had her nylons to protect her feet from the floor.
Floral patterns and pictures of wild lands and outdoor beauty filled the walls as they ran towards the lab. Pots full of real live plants were stuck in every available corner in the rooms they passed. The carpet was a thick rich green with sky blue walls. All designed to overcome the typical office environment and make it feel more warm and alive instead of the usual austerity of many tech firms. Catherine's heart ached at the thought of what was about to happen to it all if the other attack had been an indication.
So far they had not seen any sign of the attackers, but the stairwell had turned to a chorus of howling just as they had stepped out onto this floor and made their way to secure lab that the Turk was kept in. Every employee they had passed they had sent to the rear stairwell with instructions to get out the back. Carter had used his cellphone to send every security guard in the building there to hold the stairwell and then run.
"We're here," announced Carter as he swiped his security badge through a reader and punched in a code quickly.
Twin doors pulled aside to reveal a large research lab full of computer workstations and tables full of soldering tools and electrical mats. Several half built hulks sat on the tables. Along the back wall stood the heavy door of a walk in vault, currently shut. Strobes from fire alarms flashed back and forth, briefly casting odd shadows across the room with each flash.
Carter entered the room with his gun raised and scanned the room before motioning Catherine in behind him. She ran up towards the vault as the doors slid shut behind her and the lock re-engaged. A swipe of her own security badge and her personal security code caused the vault door to make a loud clunking noise before swinging open.
The Turk stood on a shelf next to multiple notebooks of research and design based on it. Both the Turk and the notes were the irreplaceable. The servers that held the electronic copies of the design data were all on site, and were on the first floor. If they had not been destroyed already, they soon would be.
"Carter, see if there's a bag in there. Anderson goes to the gym every day, see if it's under his desk." A small wheeled cart stood near the vault and Catherine sat the Turk on top and began to drop notebooks down next to it.
Carter rummaged under Anderson's desk and produced a large athletic bag with a shoe company logo on it. He dumped spare clothing and onto the desk out of the bag. "Found it. There are shoes and socks inside still. Put them on."
"Thank God. Running for my life in my nylons would kill me."
"Statistically, yes." Carter shoved the Turk and binders into the bag as Catherine started to pull on the socks.
"You really don't have any sense of humor, do you Carter?"
"Now is not a good time for jokes."
"Now is the perfect time. That or hyperventilate." With the socks on Catherine tugged on the running shoes. Too big. She pulled them back off and then pulled on the second set of socks that was in the bag.
"Please do not hyperventilate. It would be inefficient to carry you."
Catherine smirked at Carter as she tugged on the second set of socks and then the shoes. Fingers fumbled with the laces and she tried to tie them. Over and over her hands betrayed her and refused to get a proper knot.
"Fook it!" she screamed in frustration at the footwear.
Carter stared down her blankly and then looked at her shoes. He knelt and began to quickly tie them for her.
"We're not gettin' outta 'ere. Are we, Wilson?" she asked.
"We will. I promise. But you must remain calm."
Catherine took a deep breath and tried to center herself. "Wilson?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for this." She smiled at him. "For keeping me safe and trying to save the only thing keeping my company going. You're a good man."
He stared up at her for a long moment and then finally smiled in return. "You're welcome, Miss Weaver."
"Cat. Call me Cat."
"You're welcome, Cat."
Catherine felt like blushing as she watched him smile. Carter, she decided, really was a good looking man. A business had put all thoughts like that out of her mind, but here he was, grinning at her and all she could do was grin back like an idiot.
The smile vanished as he cocked his head and then looked at the door. "They're almost here."
Catherine checked the perfect laces that Carter had tied. "How can you tell?"
"I can hear them. Carry the bag."
Carter walked towards the double doors that lead into the lab and raised his pistol towards them. He squared his stance and stared down the barrel and waited.
"How could you possibly…?"
A heavy thump hitting the doors cut Catherine off, causing her to fall silent. She stood and hefted the bag over one shoulder. It felt like it weighed a ton and with raving lunatics possibly outside the door, Catherine felt like she was going to topple over with each step.
Catherine walked up behind Carter. "Maybe we could hide in the vault? There's a couple days worth of air and we could wait for the police."
"And if they set the building on fire?"
"Good point."
She jumped as another heavy thump hit the door hard enough to cause the doors to shake. Again and again the thumping came until the cracking of the doors began to accompany it. They were made of steel, but hollow, so less than two layers of eighth of an inch metal stood between them and what lay outside.
"Hide behind a desk." Carter's voice was a whisper. "Don't come out until I call your name."
Catherine scrambled underneath one of desks and squeezed her legs up to her chest. It felt like a bad horror movie come to life and she let the emotions that had been threatening to overwhelm her come out as she huddled next to the Turk's bag. Sobs came unbidden as she covered her face with her hands and tears poured freely down her cheeks.
"Why are ye doin' this tae me, God? Ah try tae be a good person. Ah try tae be a good boss. Please, anythin' ye want from me, Ah'll give it. Jus' 'elp me. 'Elp all the people that work 'ere."
Her words were whispered into the darkness beneath the desk. Desperate and quick. The sounds of the furious beating on the doors beyond grew louder and louder until a heavy crash signaled that they had toppled over.
As the report of Carter's gun sounded over and over Catherine folded her hands together and bowed her head in prayer.
Five Hours Ago…
"How's your mother?"
It was not the question John expected Silberman to start with. "Um. She's good. She hates your guts, ya know."
"I know. And she still has a hell of a right hook." Silberman chuckled and paced across the empty conference room. "I am glad you joined us, John. I was skeptical that you'd get that note Cheri asked to leave but… the Lord delivers."
"Yeah, that. Listen, mom always said you were a pretty smart guy if a bit of an ass, but you've just gone… well… this isn't what anyone expected outta you."
Silberman shrugged. "Hanging out with psychotics and loonies? Between you and I, we have to work with what the Lord gives us. I'd much rather be speaking to decent, normal folk, but we know that they won't believe what we have to say. That is Cassandra's curse."
"Uh-huh. Yet you still tried to set James Ellison on fire."
"A mistake on my part. Rash. I wasn't thinking straight."
John smirked. "Yeah. Ellison ended up saving my ass. Twice. He's a good man so don't screw with him again."
"Done." Silberman held his hands out wide in surrender. "And you can give him my apologies if you see him again."
"So… yer trying to save the world with that rabble out there? Those psychos and loonies."
"Yes, basically. We're doing the Lord's work as best we can. With you here now, you can show us the path, John. You are the messiah come to oppose the Anti-Christ. Skynet, you call it."
John narrowed his eyes as he watched Silberman. The former shrink was slick, he had to admit. He wore a Roman collar to sell the image and spoke with utmost conviction. Someone who would know how to play off the different brands of crazy that sat just outside the door could probably get them to do whatever he wanted, and Silberman was just the type of person who would know and could sell it.
He took a deep breath before diving into the deep end. "I think you need to stop. These people need help, not weapons and your cause."
Silberman raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
"Do you even know if killing all those folks even accomplished anything?" John squared his shoulders and gave Silberman a hard stare. "No, you don't. All you did was murder a bunch of innocent folks."
"Sacrifices have to made, John. You're young, idealistic still. I understand that what we do may seem harsh –"
"'Seem harsh'? You've really bought your own bullshit, Silberman. I'm no messiah, just a kid with a screwed up life. So, either you can tell them or I can walk out and the savior they worship is going to tell them to turn themselves in."
Anger flashed in the preacher's eyes. "John, that's not how these things work. You're who I say you are. And if I say you're a liar, then it would be hard to guarantee your safety."
"And if I yelled right now, what do you think Cameron'd do to you?"
"Yes, you do have a machine with you. Like you did before." Silberman smirked and crossed his arms. "But I thought of that. And there's nothing she can do."
"I didn't see any howitzers out there."
"I don't need one. Your father… he's a handsome boy. Good throwing arm for a five year old."
John felt cold suddenly as he watched Silberman. His hands shook as he wiped at the chilled sweat that dotted his forehead. "You don't know anything about my father."
"He looked just like you, John. Older, different eyes, but the face and the voice are almost the same. Kyle Reese ranted a lot more than you do, but there's no doubt Sarah told me the truth when she said who her son's father was. She so desperately wanted someone, anyone, to believe her. To not think she was crazy." A half glimmer of a smile appeared on Silberman's lips.
"Coincidence. He's not my father…"
"You're not a very good liar, John. Now, I've only just viewed him from afar, and I have some men I trust keeping a watch on him and his older brother. Let's not get them involved, shall we? If your machine comes in here and I am not around to keep my men in line, I fear for what could happen. They might get… creative."
John scowled at Silberman and made no attempt to hide the hate he felt. "You don't act like I'm your own personal Jesus."
"I'm not crazy, John. You're just a boy." Silberman motioned towards the door. "But they needed a symbol. Something to drive them. And I needed to get out of Pescadero."
"Then why keep it up? You're free."
"I do believe your mother, John. Skynet is real and I've seen the machines it makes. I do want to save the world. Those loonies out there are my ticket to that."
John stared at Silberman, silent for a long moment. The preacher was not as crazy as he had first thought, but he was a grade-a certified bastard. Hearing Silberman talk about his father had thrown his guard off. He knew he would do anything to keep that young boy safe. To protect him from the horrors that John had experienced all his life, and if possible, from Judgment Day itself.
Anything at all.
"I know a place where they're working something related to Skynet…" John's voice cracked as he spoke and he said nothing about the terminator that had been seen there.
"You're sure of this?"
"Positive. Mom checked it out yesterday." John started with the truth so the lie would be all the more convincing. "When your attack came on the news, the security went crazy and started getting everything packed up. Said they'd clear out today by the afternoon."
"Where is it?"
"It's a company called CRS. In Santa Monica."
The preacher smiled. "Then it is time to bring the wrath of the Lord down upon them."
John scowled at Silberman. And I hope that Carter rips your heart out of your chest.
Present
Dear God, Catherine would start, and then the gunfire would return louder than ever. Her eardrums vibrated with the heavy bass of shotgun booms and the staccato popping of a handgun in return. Each shot fired caused Catherine to tense beneath the desk she had chosen as her hiding place.
She kept her hands folded in front of her and prayed and prayed and prayed some more.
When the gunfire stopped, the sounds got worse. Sickening sounds. Cracking sounds and men screaming for pity that never came. Crunching sounds and tearing sounds. Catherine closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands, wanting to do anything other than imagine the horrors that must be befalling Wilson Carter to cause those noises.
Silence came and Catherine kept her face covered. They would come for her now that they were done. Heavy footsteps approached and she could feel a presence just beyond where she was hiding. It waited for her patiently. She imagined it would be more ravenous and brutal and the silence unnerved her even more.
Legs and feet covered by blue slacks and a pair of shiny dress shoes stood before her when she peeked over her hand. Blood covered them in streaks and there were chunks of something peeking out of one of the cuffs.
Wilson Carter squatted down and stared at her impassively. "We need to leave."
"Holy fook, yer alive. Thank God above." Catherine looked up towards the ceiling and mouthed 'thank you!'
Carter's grip encircled her wrist and he pulled her irresistibly up and to her feet. She dragged the bag filled with the Turk and the research notes with her as she rose. Warm blood slid over her hand and arm from Carter's and she shuddered.
"Carter? Are you all right?"
He looked back at her and stated blandly, "I'm fine."
Blood leaked down his right arm, which he held Catherine's wrist with. Small holes dotted his shirt and jacket a bloody red wound beneath each of them. Similar holes covered most of his neck and his earlobe on the right side was missing. A jagged cut crawled down his jaw and for a moment it seemed there was a glimmer of metal beneath it.
"Oh, Christ. Wilson, yer hurt." She reached for his face.
He jerked back from her touch. "I am capable of operating sufficiently. Do not be concerned. Let's go."
Catherine followed as he released her wrist and turned to stride towards the door. She came up short as slaughter and carnage beyond her reckoning confronted her throughout the room. Bodies littered the floor. She lost count after the first dozen. Single gunshots had felled many of them but others looked like they had been savaged. Heads were crushed and chests caved in. Several had limbs ripped clean from their bodies.
"H-how… how did ye do this, Carter?" said Catherine.
"I am well versed in hand to hand combat techniques."
Holy shit! was Catherine's last thought before she retched.
She did not stop until she felt Carter's hand on her back. He looked down at her and spoke in a soft tone. "Cat, we have to leave now."
Wiping her lips with the back of her sleeve, she nodded and followed Carter.
Wherever he would lead.
5 Hours Ago…
John could hear Silberman rousing the troops with speeches of redemption and the glory of God in the room outside the conference room they had met in. As he leaned against one of the walls, he thumped the back of his head against the sheetrock. A thousand tons of stone felt like they weighed on his shoulders and head.
It is just hard numbers, like Derek said, he told himself over and over. Turning these maniacs loose would save lives in the long run. He had to look at it that way, because if he did the right thing…
Doing the right thing. He heard a vague homage to that as he grew up. Sarah would say it while they bopped around the jungle with Sandinistas that kidnapped people for money and sold cocaine to fund their failing revolutions. Getting him ready for Judgment Day was doing the right thing, after all.
Slip out the back, call the cops, and tell them right where Silberman was and what his target was going to be. That would be the right thing to do now. Innocent lives would be saved and John could even think of himself as a hero. John's hand strayed to his pocked and a thumb rubbed over the bulge in his pocket that his cell phone made.
Just one call and this would be over. He could even sneak back into the house and smile at his mom when the news came on and explain how he had saved the day. She would be mad at first, but eventually she would be proud of him. You have to be decisive to lead and he had been.
And then he was going to pray to God that Silberman had been bluffing about Kyle. Maybe even rush out to the neighborhood that the Reeses lived in and have Cameron help him comb it for unwanted guests and tip the cops off to where they were.
And then they would be back at square one. Find the Turk. Find out what CRS is up to and why they had a pet terminator. All the people that had died bringing CyberDyne down had not been enough and they were still struggling and fighting and trying to give Fate the middle finger.
A couple hundred psychopaths murdering their way through a company was a pretty big middle finger. There would be a lot of people in there that probably had nothing to do with bringing Skynet into the world. Secretaries, janitors, the Mexican ladies who water the plants. Innocent people who did not deserve to be involved. Like Kyle.
The guards outside had shown John just how psychotic these guardians against the apocalypse were and how they would not distinguish between victim and innocent. They would kill and maim and murder through anything in their way, just like at IBM. John knew he would be responsible for the innocent dying along with the guilty.
Sacrifice.
All this to save three billion human lives. Hard numbers. Human lives turned into statistics and ratios. A few hundred for a billion. Easy trade, right?
Then why do I feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet? John thought to himself.
The door to the conference room creaked open and Cheri stuck her head in. John's head jerked up and he stared at her. He pushed himself off the wall he leaned against and straightened his shoulders.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey."
Cheri slipped in and shut the door behind her. "Cameron said I could talk to you alone for a few. She frisked me before she let me in."
"She's like that. 'Sup?"
"Just wanted to talk, John." Cheri shrugged and chewed on her lower lip.
"Gathered that. 'Bout what?"
Cheri gave him a shy smile before padding across the room and looking up at him with wide eyes. She seemed tentative, almost nervous, with jerky little movements. "Us."
"Huh?" John felt like he was missing some connection that only she knew about.
"You and me. I missed you, John." She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him. Her cheek nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
John's eyes went wide as the connection clicked. She felt so warm and was shaped just right and there was no hyper alloy combat chassis hiding beneath her skin. A real girl was kissing his neck and sliding her hands underneath his shirt.
"Cheri…" His throat felt like it was made of sandpaper. "…what are you doing?"
"Taking what was promised to me. Keeping you safe and sound here while the word is spread. Lots of things, really… but mainly doing what I've wanted to do since before Daddy died."
Hands tugged at his jeans and loosened the belt there. "What was promised you? What are you talking about?"
"You, John. Silberman said we could be together."
"We were just study partners, Cheri. We hardly knew each other…"
"Don't say that! I killed Daddy for you, John Connor. You're the messiah. The one who saves us all. That's all I need to know. I love you."
Men succor their end from you… And they love you for it. The dream all over again given flesh and blood in the form of Cheri and Silberman's flock. Was he turning that vision into a reality?
"Really?" he whispered to her.
"Let me show you."
Cheri stood on the tips of her toes and covered John's lips with her own. Warmth filled him as they kissed. They never noticed the door cracking open or the brown eyes that watched them as they pressed tightly to each other. The door then quietly clicked back into place.
John pushed at Cheri's shoulders, breaking away from her. "Cheri… I'm not…"
He watched the young woman's features and the disappointment beginning to cloud them. And the blood that stained the clothes she wore, from whatever innocents had died either by her hands or those near her. John did not know her at all, and certainly not whatever it was she had become, and had no idea of what would happen if he finished saying what he had planned on.
So, instead, he said, "… ready for that. Let's just sit here and talk and be with each other. Ok?"
Cheri smiled at him. "Ok."
Present
Flames roared from shattered windows along the top floor of the CRS headquarters. Shotguns echoed up and down the street, occasionally answered by the pop-pop-pop of smaller handguns. Two police cruisers were overturned and burning in front of the lobby entrance. Sirens, insistent and numerous, sounded in the distance and grew louder and louder with every moment. A helicopter's rotary blades sounded directly above.
The machine stared at the devastation, recorded it, and disregarded it as no threat to its own safety. It strode through the shattered burning hulks in the parking lot and into the lobby. Smoke and flame had not touched it yet, but blood and spatter showed massacre had torn through.
A man hunched by the prostrate corpse of a woman. A secretary, perhaps, by her appearance and the telephone headset still attached to one ear. The jagged wound of a close range shotgun blast had torn out most of her lower torso.
Narrow features and grimy clothes defined him as he tugged at the skirt of the corpse. He licked his lips repeatedly and muttered to himself. "Oh, baby. Gots somethings fer yers. Yers gonna loves it."
Broken glass and shattered ceiling tiles crunched beneath the boots of the machine as it approached the human and his corpse. The directive of 'INTERROGATE' flashed insistently on the machine's HUD.
A gun whipped out and towards the machine as the man turned at the sound if its approach. Blood marred the grip of the Beretta 92F.
"Whos the fucks is you?" he demanded as he stood.
The machine ignored the weapon. "Where is John Connor?"
"Fucks you. Yous a cop?" Uneven yellowed teeth revealed themselves as he sneered at the machine.
"Negative."
"Toos bads. Wanted to kill me a piggy but didn't runs fast enoughs." The gun barked twice as he opened fire on the machine, both bullets impacting squarely into the center of the broad chest.
He looked on in horror as the machine ignored the gunshots and wrapped one massive hand around the wrist holding the gun and squeezed until bones turned to powder and sent the pistol falling to the ground. Its other hand tangled in the man's lanky hair and pulled him up off his feet.
Screams turned to whimpers as the machine let go of his wrist and then lowered him to the ground. He cradled the pulped hand against his chest and stared up at his attacker.
It held a sketch in one hand now. The picture of a beautiful young woman with brown hair and wide brown eyes. One the man had seen as he had guarded a door and wanted to have a good time with.
"Where is John Connor? And is this woman with him?"
