Pokerface
Why were they there, I don't know. I know Derek hadn't answered my calls for days. I know he's hiding. He's hiding from me.
This old factory, they used to make microchips for cell-phones here. Until it came cheaper to outsource to a third world country. These 3G chips, they've made your phone into a computer. How safe it must feel to have a thing that's soon smarter than you are in your pocket. GPS will tell them where you are within meters, targeted ads for your comfort through the websites you've been to. If your Google-ads keep offering you hot dates in your area, you better think what websites you've visited. It's a simple algorithm. They know where you were and they're offering the most likely place for you to be. Recording every letter you hit on your PC keyboard, every song you listen to on your iPod, the integrated webcam on your laptop recording when you don't even realize it. Then suggesting the songs, websites, movies you'd probably like. The products you might be interested in. Just a click away. And that's all already happening. And we're letting it happen.
More than 20% of all cars on the road have a GPS navigation system. Making it easier for you. More and more there are malfunctions. But that's just statistics. No GPS navigator is out to get you. When it tells you to make a u-turn on the highway or take a right turn when there's no road to turn to, that's just a malfunction. Sometimes that happens, no one knows why. Over 10% of all car crashes are caused by a faulty navigator. People trusting a machine more than they trust themselves. But it's just statistics, no GPS navigator is trying to kill you. Not yet anyway.
This empty factory, except it's not empty. I watched trucks come and go, load and unload big containers. I'm resourceful like Derek, hell, I'm smarter than him and I didn't think they'd be here. The Connor family. Seeing them sneaking inside, I have to go inside too, just a little sooner than I thought. He's brought John with him. How nice. Special bonding time. And the machine.
I know who they are after, Derek came to me for help remember. I provided the information he needed. He says thank you and leaves. Me, sitting there looking stupid. Thanks for NOT sharing. But I have my own little secrets. And my own little motives.
I'm not here to stop the war, I'm here to win it. No matter what it takes. One machine at a time. Battle by battle. It disgusts me that the metal is right there so close to him. He should know better.
The machines, they're not only trying to kill the key members of the resistance. Their making the future happen for them. Gathering the resources to create their world. Making it possible. Even if we'd kill every person who ever contributed to the project evolving to Skynet, the machines could still build their army. They're already here doing just that. We can't stop them. Derek, he can't stop them. It's foolish to think otherwise.
The GPS navigators, cell-phones, iPods, laptops and computers they all have one thing in common: tantalum. That's a chemical element used for several things but widely acknowledged as an excellent metal for things requiring high performance. Due to its light weight and biocompatibility it's widely used in body implants and surgical instruments. Have your appendix removed and you'll get a first hand experience what tantalum feels like.
It's also the main ingredient of coltan. And that's what our metal friends are made of. And that's what's going on in the building right in front of me.
I don't quite know what Derek and John are doing here right now, but this is my battle. I'm having a little fun finally blowing something up. My private joyride to keep me occupied, get those busy thoughts out of my head. Except not very private now with them here. I have enough explosives with me to blow up the whole block, it won't stop them but it's a step in the right direction. Finally. This is what we should be doing, destroying them, not playing house with them.
Except things never go our way. At least not my way. Should've known by now.
You know how you're doing a supposedly easy job. You go in, you come out and then there's the big BOOM following. Yeah. Should've known, right?
At what point did everything go awry? I don't really know. Well, there's Derek shouting his face all red, telling me to go to all sorts of places. Except he's not shouting, not really. More like yelling without the sound. The TV on mute. And then me yelling at him, for being an asshole. Which he is by the way. Oh and we're both on mute because of the R2D2 following us. Not the girl but something similar. I didn't take notes.
I saw "Cameron", their little metallic whore. But I also met the mother and the son. Right now he doesn't know who I am. He doesn't look anything like he will look in the future. He looks like a kid. Seeing him with the machine, I'm thinking I must get that blonde working extra hours. Oh what a headache she's become.
Derek is almost carrying Sarah. She looks like a mess. Like she was hit by a truck. Twice. Maybe she was. I wouldn't know.
On the ground floor we set the explosives. Me and Derek. The good old days. John is looking after Sarah. And the metal is fighting her kind. Yeah, sure, it's useful in situations like these. But when you've seen one go haywire, blast through your mates leaving them gutted in the bunker walls, you're a bit cautious. But in a very healthy way I think. Scraping your friends off the walls, and literally 'scraping', that's a thing I wouldn't wanna do again.
Waiting outside we don't see the rest coming out. And you know there's the countdown. The tick tick ticking of the bombs. And I might say leave 'em. It's war. But it's John Connor up there. And I guess we have to get him. And Derek's already running to get them. And I'm running after him. But not because of John Connor.
Inside the building I'm screaming at him, that we have to go. Really have to go. Like right now.
And then Sarah and John get down to us but obviously I'm on crazy pills cause John is genuinely worried leaving that metal behind us. I'm screaming that if we stay here, we get blown up. And if we wait for her, we get blown up. And if we leave and run, we're probably still gonna get blown up! And I'm not trying to spoil the party here!
John, he refuses to leave. The stubborn piece of shit. Derek, he's shouting for Sarah to take John out. Or the other way around considering the shape she's in. And he's shouting at John not to worry. He's gonna make sure she gets out. He'll be right behind them. And I'm shouting at him that he is a fucking idiot. That he's gonna get killed because of some metal! And he's shouting he's gonna get out in time. Don't worry. Just get the hell out of here. And he's looking at me, like he is going to say what I want to hear but that would've been too much to ask anyways. He looks at me, but I can't read his pokerface. I can't call his bluff. And he runs to get her. Which is more than he ever did for me.
I'm counting there's a couple of minutes left and I'm not going to die here. I'm gonna leave this place in one piece, not in several pieces scattered around the walls. I'm not having someone scrape me off.
I'm running as fast as I can for the exits but I never get there. There, blocking my way, stands a tall man with most of his metal skeleton already visible. I know I can't stop him or get past him. I guess you can't always win. I pull out my gun. His eyes are burning red and they're the last thing I see.
