03.20.2009 | 11:27 | PM | PST
'Please insert your stolen card now,' John thought with a smile as he slid the card into the reader that allowed him access to the hotel room of ex-Commander Jesse Flores.
In actuality it wasn't stolen, but John had no right to be there all the same. He was amazed that such a nice hotel could have such lax security. The clerk at the desk hadn't even asked for identification, let alone something that could prove that he had any business asking for a key to this room. She'd just nonchalantly created a new pass key, handed it off to him and told him to enjoy his evening.
'If only it was that easy with an ATM.'
A quick glance around the room told anyone looking that the rogue TechCom Commander was a woman of few material possessions. And it didn't take much closer of a look to realize that the few things she did own were all packed neatly into a medium sized duffel-bag, ready to be carried off at a moment's notice
He could relate to her life on the run, if not her reasons for living such.
Aside from the single piece of luggage her hotel room was relatively undisturbed. Only the presence of one other item indicated the room was currently occupied- the candy bar style smart-phone that had been left, either forgotten or because its owner had no use for it, on the nightstand.
Checking the call logs, John found that she called very few numbers more than once, which made sense considering aside from Derek and Riley there would be no one in this time for her to call. The only repeat numbers, in fact, were Riley's, Derek's and an unknown number with a 424 area code belonging to someone named "K.O."
'Why do those initials seem familiar?' He knew he'd seen them somewhere before, and very recently. He pulled his own phone from his pocket and typed in a text message: Jesse calls this number frequently. Find out who it belongs to.
Then he remembered the words of the intended recipient from earlier-
"Future John doesn't give me orders...When he wants something from me he asks me, nicely."
He smirked, laughing more on the inside than out. It was ludicrous, but he couldn't help but be amused as he recalled the exchange. He cleared the words he'd already written and started again; Could you do me a favor, please? |SEND|
It took less than a minute for her to respond, Ask nicely.
'Is she teasing me- via SMS?!' I found a number in Jesse's phone. 424-868-4310. |SEND|
Again, a response was quick to arrive; That was a statement, not a request.
'There's no doubt about it, she's teasing me.' Can you find out who it belongs to, please? |SEND|
Protection is free, detective work will cost you. I am not cheap.
'So now in addition to feelings she's got a sense of humor too.' Are you disobeying a "polite suggestion" soldier? |SEND|
That would be punishable by flogging under your unique code of military justice.
You said I handle things like that personally, right? |SEND| 'Am I flirting?'
What are you suggesting, General Connor, sir?
That you should check on that number, or be flogged. |SEND|
And if I choose flogging?
'Alright, she's taking this way too far. Or am I?' I have a hunch about that number. |SEND|
Several moments went by without a reply. 'Great, my Terminator won't talk to me unless I flirt.' I don't own a whip, but I can improvise. |SEND|
I will buy you one. And I will check the number. Be very careful with Jesse Flores. She is dangerous.
'Flirty one minute, serious the next.' He would heed her advice, though. He doubted that Cameron, possibly even Sarah, would approve of how he was going to handle this situation, but for once it was his call and he was going to make it the way he saw fit. That is, if she decided to show up sometime soon. He'd followed her enough to know her schedule and she was overdue.
'So I wait,' he thought as he pulled his gun from his jacket pocket and took a seat on a chair that just happened to be facing the door. He looked the weapon over. He noticed, and pondered over, how he could be so nervous on the inside and yet hold the weapon so perfectly still.
03.20.2009 | 11:31 | PM | PST
She was coming down the stairs, unexpectedly not doing whatever it was she typically did to conceal the sound of her footsteps.
And she was armed.
John might have been convinced of her innocence in the matter of Riley's death, but Sarah was not. And she'd be damned if she was letting Cameron out of her sight, especially with a gun. "You're not leaving this house," she said.
It seemed that the cyborg hadn't expected her with the way she turned her head so quickly in Sarah's direction. "John needs me."
"If John needed you, he would have asked for you. He didn't. You're not leaving this house."
"He did ask for me." The cyborg held up her cell phone. "He sent me a text message. He wants me to check something for him. I have to go to the library."
"The library?"
"I go there often. I don't sleep."
"You get into many fights at the library?"
Cameron didn't respond, but tilted her head to the side the way she did when she didn't understand a question, or when she was, in Sarah's estimation, playing dumb. 'Or when someone asks her a question she doesn't want to answer. She's not getting away with it this time' "You leave in the evening, come back in the morning and you're covered in cuts and bruises. Unless the library is hosting a ladies' fight club you're doing something more than going to the library, and you've been getting away with it for long enough. I want an explanation."
"Myron Stark. Do you know the name? You should."
'"STARK 2007," one of the things written in Wells' blood on the basement wall?' "What does that have to do with anything?"
"I suffered the injuries you're referring to when I killed a T-888 named Myron Stark. I discovered him while doing research at the library. His mission was to assassinate Governor Bustamante. I had to do something about him."
'"Killed," not "destroyed."' "You've fought Triple-Eights before and didn't take that much damage."
"He was in 'Standby Mode' and his body was sealed inside a wall. I had to destroy the wall. It is a... long story."
"A long story, huh? Does it include an explanation for why you stashed its pieces in the garage rather than incinerating them?"
"I burned approximately 97.21% of his remains. I kept several microservo joints, a length of neural relay fiber and an optical sensor controller chip."
"Why?"
"John already told you- for research. And I told you that I needed replacement parts."
"Was this his idea or yours?"
In lieu of a response the younger woman averted her eyes and pressed her lips together. Sarah Connor couldn't envision anyone looking more guilty. 'Poor manipulator was an understatement.' "If I didn't know better I would say that look of shameful guilt on your face was just an act. But I know better. You're a horrible liar, and you're even worse when it comes to concealing your..." she stopped herself before uttering the word feelings, "...whatever it is- a line of code or a programmed shift in voltage that you've convinced John to think of as feelings."
The Terminator's hand twitched, ever so slightly, but enough for Sarah to notice. She was striking a cybernetic nerve.
'Good.' "Tell me something, Cameron- do you imagine that you have feelings?"
The look on the girl's face changed from one that suggested guilt to one of... sadness? "I don't imagine."
"No. To imagine you'd have to genuinely be able to think. You only pretend to think."
Cameron's hand twitched again; this time it was more pronounced. "I don't have to imagine that I have feelings. My feelings are very real. They wouldn't be worth much if they weren't."
"They aren't worth much because they don't exist."
"They do exist. They may not be worth much to you, but they are to John."
For the first time in the conversation Sarah didn't have a response, but the look on her face was unmistakable.
"You want to kill me."
"For a while now."
"I know. I've seen that look on your face many times since John's sixteenth birthday. You want to kill me, but you know it would hurt John- you said so yourself. He would never forgive you. He values me."
"You can't kill something that isn't alive." The rational part of Sarah's mind was screaming at her that this whole conversation was pointless, but it wasn't in the driver's seat. While probably better directed at John, all her earlier fury was now focused on Cameron. She couldn't see the irony in focusing all her efforts on hurting Cameron while at the same time insisting that she couldn't feel "hurt."
And if the full-blown look of sadness on the girl's face was any indication, she was succeeding. "I may not be alive, not in the sense that you mean, but-"
"You're not alive in any sense!"
More and more, the female Terminator was looking less like a killing machine and more like a puppy getting kicked. "You're wrong. But it doesn't matter. John still values me. As long as he values me you can't hurt me."
A part of Sarah was trying to tell her that she was taking this too far, but she was ignoring it. Still, she pressed forward. "Yes. Yes he does. He's a better person than I am- better than all of us, really. He values you despite the fact that you tried to kill him."
In a classic display of shame, Cameron turned away. The smallest of smiles formed at the corners of Sarah's mouth. "Did you look away because you're genuinely ashamed of the way you abused his trust in you?"
"You don't know what you're talking about, Sarah."
"Don't I?" She circled around, trying to come face to face with Cameron again. The girl turned along with her, avoiding her glare. "You think you understand what its like to have feelings and emotions? You tried to kill him! You went against his orders. You went bad!"
Cameron whirled around with great speed, faster than she'd ever seen the cyborg move, and literally screamed in response, "YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!"
Sarah gasped, stunned not so much because of the way she'd spoken John's exact words in almost the exact same volume and pitch he had hours ago but because of the unexpected sight of tears flowing from the girl's eyes.
Through the tears Cameron went on the offensive, lashing out more like the teenage girl she was supposed to imitate rather than the cybernetic construct she truly was. "What? You didn't think I was capable of this? You've been pushing me since you stopped me from walking out the door. This is what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted to see how deeply I could feel, to see if you could hurt me. I hope you're enjoying the experience."
Sarah just stared, not sure what to make of what she was seeing. The female Terminator was right- she'd been pushing her to this. She wanted her to feel the same way John had made her feel twice already this day. She didn't want to believe it was possible, but she'd pushed the girl regardless. And now, here she was... crying.
"How long have you been waiting to bring up what happened on John's birthday?"
"I haven't been waiting to bring it up." 'Or have I?' "It's not something easily forgotten. He wasn't the only one who trusted you."
"I was in a car that exploded! I was damaged! You don't understand that. Have you ever been the victim of a car bombing? If you had, you might not have exactly been in your right mind, if you even had one left! You don't know what it was like for me to be trapped inside my own body, watching helplessly as some bit of programming I didn't know existed took control of me and tried and hurt him." She closed the distance between the two, lowering her voice as she spoke, "You don't know how much it hurt me to see the words- TARGET: JOHN CONNOR, MISSION: TERMINATE flashing in my eyes, constantly reminding me what my body was trying to do and not being able to do anything about it. And you don't know how much it hurt me to know that he would hate me for it."
'Hate you? He's not capable of hating you,' as much as Sarah wished it were possible. She couldn't believe it, but somewhere inside there was a feeling of sympathy rising towards the girl. Something about the way she described not being in control of her body, watching helplessly while it acted of its own volition struck a chord. She'd experience the exact same thing when she... when had she experienced that? She found herself in that moment involuntarily using her finger to tap out the rhythm of the music she'd been humming all evening long against the fabric of her pants at the thigh. 'What the hell?'
She shook off the feeling, refocusing on the issue at hand. "Programming you never knew existed?"
The girl ignored her, too busy wiping the tears from her cybernetic eyes.
"What do you mean, programming you never knew existed? I want an answer, Cameron!"
"I don't have one for you."
"You need to come up with one. First you say that sometimes reprogrammed Terminators go bad and that no one knows why it happens. Then it happens to you. Now you say its because of programming you didn't know was there. What if it happens again?"
"It can't happen again. I purged the harmful code."
"And that's it? The whole thing is supposed to be forgotten just like that? You purged the code that you didn't know was there and we shouldn't worry because it can't happen again. That is not good enough!"
"It has to be, because I don't know where it came from. All I know is that I was never programmed to target John or anyone else for termination. I was never given orders to harm him. The resistance, John- future John, never reprogrammed me because he didn't have to. I've always followed him of my own free will."
Sarah didn't know what to think. The enigma that was Cameron had just told her more about herself in the last fifteen minutes than she had in the entire time she'd known her. 'So why do I feel like I know less about her than ever?' She knew she had to respond, but there were so many questions. She picked the first one that came to mind, one that seemed less clear than it ever had; "Why are you here?"
Suddenly the crying, emotional teenage girl was gone and, it seemed, the machine had returned- complete with her.. its simple, monotone, emotionless responses that belied the tears that still streaked down its face. "Protect John. Hunt Skynet. Stop Judgment Day."
"But why are you here? Right now, with us?" The hard edge in Sarah's voice returned. Despite the fact that she still had questions that needed answered, she knew the mysteries of the errant programming and her long-concealed emotions wouldn't be solved in this conversation. For reasons not completely clear, but likely wrapped up in the jealousy and anger she'd been feeling since she'd confronted John in the garage earlier, she felt like she needed to take a final cheap shot at the girl. "John sent you here from the future. But he sent you away- away from him. Maybe you should think about that. Maybe you should think about why he didn't want you around anymore."
Again, the kicked-puppy look came across Cameron's face, but she didn't respond. Sarah just shook her head, reached into her pocket and pulled out the keys to the SUV, then tossed them to the cyborg who picked them out of the air effortlessly. "Have fun at the library," she said as she made her way towards the stairs, her mind now filled with a desire to forget the events of the day, a deep sense of confusion over everything she'd just learned, everything she hadn't just learned and the certainty that without medication she would not sleep this night.
03.20.2009 | 11:36 | PM | PST
It wasn't a glitch, it wasn't part of her programming and it wasn't an algorithm run by the emotion simulator. It was genuine feeling.
She could feel. It amazed her, mystified her and scared her all at the same time. And the fact that she could be amazed, mystified and scared at all amazed, mystified and scared her even more. But there was also a feeling of joy that came along with knowing that it was truly possible for her to feel this way. She'd had these feelings before, of course, but she'd considered them to be associated with the glitches brought on by the car bombing and the discovery of the programming she'd just told Sarah about. But these... these were genuine human feelings and emotions.
The most troubling aspect of the experience wasn't the way she reacted when Sarah attacked her, but the fact that neither the diagnostics she was now running on the emotion simulator, the primary chip and her personality subroutines or the 307 previous diagnostics she'd run since the day she'd malfunctioned and experienced the memories of "Allison, from Palmdale," and the additional 85 she'd run since rebooting after John reinserted her chip after the car bombing, could tell her why she was experiencing them or what their source was.
Sarah's words echoed in her cybernetically enhanced mind.
"He sent you away- away from him. Maybe you should think about that. Maybe you should think about why he didn't want you around anymore."
Who was she to say that?
Sarah Connor may have been his mother, but she knew nothing about the man he would become. And she nothing about her. Sarah Connor didn't know what they shared in the future.
But then, so much of her own memory of the future seemed to be obscured- intentionally, by... she was having a hard time thinking of him as John anymore. This John, the John of 2009 in the course of a few hours had become her John and Future John, the General as she'd started to refer to him, was becoming someone more like her John had been before today- distant and somewhat cruel.
She called up her final memories of the General. They were among the only things she could remember about the future with perfect clarity, especially those last few minutes before she stepped into the TDE. He hadn't wanted to send her away. He would have rather sent anyone else, but he knew her logic was flawless. Only she could protect him the way he needed to be protected, because there was no one else who had such deep feelings for him. But he told her that she wouldn't be prepared for what she'd find in this time. This John wasn't the man she knew. He was weak, confused and... angry. And when it came to women, he'd described himself as "clueless at that age." For a long time after meeting his sixteen-year-old self she couldn't have agreed more. And Sarah... He'd said that she would not like her at first for no other reason than she was what she was. But he was certain that she'd be accepted eventually, "...just like she accepted Uncle Bob."
"I can only hope..." she found herself speaking out loud, though there was no one around to hear her. She was sitting right where she'd been earlier with John- on the bottom step leading up to the patio, her form slouched forward, her hands tucked between her legs and her feet pointed inwards. She was the picture of an overly emotional teenage girl who'd just been given a verbal lashing by her... mother. For all intents and purposes that's what Sarah was supposed to be. But mothers weren't supposed to be so hateful, even by the lowest of human standards. She wasn't supposed to feel this way. She wasn't supposed to feel at all.
Or was she? Was this what Skynet had intended when it created her?
There were answers inside her mind, but in his ultimate act of cruelty the General had made sure she couldn't access them. Not yet, at least. But she knew they were there to be found. And find them she would. One way or another she would get past the blocks the General had placed in her memory, and she would find the answers she knew were there.
She'd spent enough time in despair over her emotional situation. She straightened her posture and redirected the appropriate processes to the tasks she needed to accomplish. John needed to know who Jesse had been in contact with and she needed to come up with a theory of how John could dream about a model of Terminator he'd never seen before. To do that she'd need to speak to a "friend" who should be working at the library tonight. And she had her routine- checking various news, legal, military and government databases that only someone like her could access through the public Internet for leads that indicated activity associated with the creation of Skynet. Her's would be a busy night, which was fine since she didn't sleep.
As she climbed into the truck she was 99.99% able to ignore the single tear that fell from her left eye, a reminder that from this point forward no matter how much processing power she directed to other duties she would no longer be able to ignore her.. feelings.
For a being as mechanically sophisticated as she was, that 0.01% was as good as infinite.
03.20.2009 | 11:45 | PM | PST
There was a figure seated in one of the chairs, a man hidden in silhouette. She focused on the only detail that was clear- the silver gun that he was holding perfectly still and pointed at her.
Before she could even think about reaching for her weapon the man spoke. "If you pretend not to know me, I might shoot you in the head."
The voice was smoother, not quite so raspy and gravely as the one she was used to hearing. And it didn't have the intensity, but it was still impossible not to know who it belonged to. He stood up, and stepped into the small amount of light that was present.
"We owe Riley the truth, don't you think?"
He wasn't as much too look at as he was in the future. His face was too young, too pristine. It didn't have the masculine elegance brought about by the wear of age and the harsh conditions of the future, but it had the stare that terrified anyone looking him in the eye for more than the briefest moment.
"We owe the dead that much."
'I suppose its time for the reckoning.' "You're John Connor."
"Yes, I am."
He spoke as though he'd just discovered it himself. At least he'd found the confidence that Riley never saw in him. "Where is she? The metal?"
"If she were here, you'd be dead. You know that."
'And it doesn't bother you, you metal-loving piece of...'
He held out his hand. "Would you please give me your gun? We both know you're not gonna shoot me."
'...shit.' She could take him down right now. At this age she knew he wouldn't be able to react in time to counter her draw, but something, she didn't know if it was the intensity in his stare or the way he was holding the gun like he was one of them, in a word 'perfectly.' that told her this was the end of her little rebellion. Without showing the sense of defeat she felt, she handed the weapon over.
"You know, I've been running from the machines my whole life."
'Great, now he's going to talk. He's not yet the man of few words that he is in the future.'
"They tried to kill my mom before I was even born. Then when I was ten, they sent one after me. I was just a kid. Both times future me sent someone back to stop them. The first time, it was a soldier. His name was Kyle Reese. And he died saving my mother's life."
It was hard to fathom the predestination paradox. Those things were supposed to be impossible, at least the Doctor thought so. 'So that's why Derek never told me.'
"The second time it was a machine. I used to wonder why I did that. Why I took that chance." He closed the distance between the two of them, suddenly seeming larger than he was. "I don't wonder any more. Human beings can't be replaced. They can't be re-built. They die and they never come back."
He was sentimental, this younger version of the bastard General. If he'd shown this sort of feeling for humans in the future then maybe...
"You know, it wasn't Derek that told me, if that's what you're wondering. He loves you, you know."
'Not after tonight.'
"You and me... we're the only things he has in this world. The only things. He's like Riley in that way. But she made mistakes- small things, sometimes, a word or a phrase. "Carrots and apples-" I'm guessing that's yours. When we were in Mexico, she heard my real name. She ignored it. A man took my picture and she destroyed his camera. She put herself between me and a machine that was hunting me. So, one day I realized she wasn't treating me like John Baum. She was treating me like John Connor."
'Stupid, stupid girl. If only I could kill her twice...' "When was that?"
"I don't remember exactly. It was a bad day, though. I started following her. She led me to you... and Derek."
'At least you noticed that much about her.' "She wanted to tell you."
"I know. But she didn't." He spoke so casually, like it was the last thing in the world he cared about. "I saw her body you know- blood, skin and a strand of black hair stuck under her fingernails. She did that to you," he indicated the cuts that marred her face. "She figured you out, even before I did. I couldn't explain why she would tell the school councilor or go to DCFS. We both know she wasn't smart enough for that. But I was. After I saw how you'd hurt her. That's when I knew what you tried to do, and how it went wrong."
She wanted to tell him that she was sorry for the fact that he'd seen her that way, but something about the way he spoke when talking about her told her that he didn't care.
"Before today," he continued, "I would have thought that it was all my fault. I would have blamed myself, added this to the brick yoke I've been carrying on my shoulders since I was old enough to walk. I knew Riley was in trouble. I should have helped her, but I didn't."
Maybe she'd mistaken his earlier sentimentality. He seemed too cold when it came to Riley. She had to know, "Did any part of you want it to be real- you and her?"
He smiled, slightly and shook his head. "Something inside... I knew deep down that it was too good to be true, the way she just strolled up to me all dreamy-eyed. In another place, another time... But that's my curse. I notice things, even if I don't realize it right away. I look back on it, and she was wrong from minute one. You were a poor coach."
"Or she was a poor player."
"Or maybe I just wanted to win."
"You didn't want to be John Baum. You wanted to be John Connor."
"That's just the thing, isn't it? I am John Connor. I think I just realized it today. I've been fighting that realization since... for a long time."
'And now he wants it. I wonder if Derek noticed. He'd be so proud to watch the bastard General being born out of his weakling nephew.'
He grabbed her already packed duffel bag and threw it at her. "Go," he said, with an air of finality.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"Mercy, General?"
"No mercy. In fact I think you'll wish that I'd killed you. You might find it preferable to living with this. But if I have to live with it then so do you. Go."
"Would it have worked?"
"What?"
"If the metal had murdered the girl. Or if I could've made you to believe she had."
"You couldn't have convinced me that it was Cameron. I doubted it for a while, but I knew she hadn't killed her."
'Her... killed... Cameron...' She let her indignation show, even if it was too late to make a difference."How long?"
"What do you mean?"
"How long did you doubt it?"
"Truthfully? I couldn't tell you. But not long."
"Well...it's a damn shame, then. It's a god-damn waste!"
She turned to leave, but stopped as John spoke again. "No, what's a damn shame is that you and Derek put the entire future at risk because of this... I don't even know what to call it... I want to call it blind hatred, but that doesn't do it justice. It's more like bigotry. It never sunk in with either you or Derek that they could be more than machines. And you murdered a girl, destroyed a life in the process. That's a damn shame. You play with peoples' lives like they're nothing but pawns on a chessboard while you curse the machines for their inhumanity. There's a saying about them- they're not built to be cruel. I guess that's reserved for us- humans. People like you. It was people like you that created Skynet and made it what it became. You don't have the moral right to sit in judgment over anyone, least of all me. Or Cameron."
He didn't notice the way she closed her eyes as she shook her head. The girl was defeated, and she knew it, but she had to re-enforce her own point of view lest she allow his words to sink in and guide her to the realization that she'd thrown away everything she could have had with Derek for nothing.
She walked out, silently plotting a way to salvage the situation, not bothering to close the door as she went.
03.20.2009 | 11:48 | PM | PST
"Are you sure... that thing wearing Catherine Weaver's face... you're sure I'm not next on it's hit list?"
The lawyer was tense. Too tense. He couldn't handle this type of pressure, and that made him a liability. That and the fact that he'd let himself be discovered, and followed. The only reason the resistance fighter from the future hadn't gotten closer was because his partner in crime hadn't shown up.
"Would you relax, Kenny? For all she knows, if she knows, you're nothing more than a name on a legal document- the guy who filed papers to set up a dummy corporation. You didn't work there, you didn't know what was going on there, you're safe."
"Tone, you don't understand! Did you see the crime scene analysis? The Coroners' reports? She chopped those people to pieces, and looked like she had fun doing it!"
"I imagine she did." She wasn't like the others, this T-1001 that had taken the name and place of Zeira Corp. CEO Catherine Weaver. She didn't just kill people, she took pleasure in killing people. They weren't supposed to work that way, but this one did. And she'd somehow convinced nearly a third of Skynet's war machine to follow her in the future. Though, truthfully, they'd not been convinced so much as reprogrammed by the pet who, he imagined, was running the show in the future now. That one had been the only one that she'd had to "convince." He doubted that he'd ever figure out how she'd done it, but supposed it really didn't matter. All that was in the future, and the future could be changed- he knew that better than... well, not anyone. There was one other person out there who knew better, but he was a close second, at least in his own mind.
"You're not making me feel any better," the lawyer's comment snapped the slightly older man out of his thoughts.
He turned in his chair to open a cabinet behind his massive oak desk. He pulled a bottle from it, took two glasses from on top and turned back to his colleague. "This is my best Scotch- it's almost 15 years old." He said as he slowly poured the contents of the bottle into the drinking vessels. "That's just slightly longer than I lived past 'the day,' before I came back here. It'll make you feel better." He offered up the beverage.
The lawyer shook his head, and took it, downing it easily in a single gulp and wincing only slightly. His employer was right, it was a damn good Scotch, and it did make him feel better. "Ok, you're right. But please, don't start with more of that time travel stuff. You've already told me more than I ever needed to know about the future."
The older, overweight man just laughed as he sampled from his own glass. Unlike his associate, he knew that this type of alcohol was best sipped rather than taken all at once. The younger man fancied himself a social butterfly. He thought that drinking the way he did impressed the hookers and older married women trolling for affairs in the types of establishments he frequented in his off hours. "It's my knowledge of the future that makes the finer things in life all the finer. You're right about Weaver thought, she is a damn sadistic bitch."
"And you're working for her, which mean's I'm working for her!"
"Not for long," the fat man replied. "Just as long as our little marriage of convenience remains convenient, not one second longer."
"Don't you think it's time you let me in on your plan? She's on the war path and she has the drone! And she had a meeting with our 'Water Delivery Guy' tonight."
The younger man really thought his employer was an idiot. "I know all about it."
"Then you know she's taken a sudden interest in the Connors."
"It serves them right for poking around the desert. Have our people found out how they knew?"
"No."
"That bothers me more than anything that has to do with Catherine Weaver. I can't have John Connor... or Sarah Connor screwing things up."
"Speaking of that, I'm pretty sure they made the girl."
"Flores? Damn. Follow up on that- tonight. I don't want them finding out I messed with the girl's head. And from now on I want 'round-the-clock surveillance on them. And you find out what she's got Water Deliver Guy doing. Better yet, have him followed as well."
"You don't think he's smart enough to catch a tail?"
"No, he's not smart enough. If he was operating independently, sure. But Weaver has all their wires crossed to the point they don't know which way is up and which way is down. Just make sure you have our best eyes on both him and the Connors. Tell our people I want reports by the hour."
The man set his glass down and stood to leave. "You've got it, boss."
Before he could make it out the door the overweight man called out to him, "Kenny, I'm serious- don't worry about Weaver. I've got an endgame already mapped out for her. You just make sure all the arrangements are in place then get out of town until the heat dies down."
The lawyer smiled as he left.
The older man smiled too, but not because he'd just reassured a friend of his safety. "My friend, you're worried about being on the wrong person's hit list," he spoke to the now empty room. He took another sip of his Scotch, picked up a phone and dialed a number. It only took one ring for the party on the other end of the line to answer. "The good Counselor is going to be paying you a visit later this evening. After he gives you your instructions, waste him."
03.20.2009 | 11:52 | PM | PST
"I figured I'd be running in to you," Jesse said as she came down the steps that led up to the lobby of the hotel.
This level of the parking garage was deserted, except for the two of them. That was good. He didn't need onlookers for what was about to happen.
"Do you know who Billy Wisher is?"
The last thing she'd expected was to be asked about someone she didn't know. "Who?"
"I guess not. Where you come from, he doesn't exist. He never did. Billy Wisher was my best friend. He was in my squad. We fought together. We saw things you can't imagine. He was like my brother and I loved him. But it turns out I never really knew him. His real name was Andy Goode. And back here in this world he created a computer program- the program that becomes Skynet. So Andy Goode is dead. And Billy Wisher is dead, too. Because I killed him. I came back here and I killed him. He was my brother, and I loved him, and I killed him. And I did it for Kyle, and John. And I did it for you."
He liked to tell himself that it was about the mission, about the future, even for John and Kyle. But in truth he'd really done it for her- to spare her the life that awaited them all in the future.
On some level, she knew it. The tears were welling in her eyes, and before he knew it they were dropping like a waterfall. He wanted nothing more than to pull her to him, to reassure her that he loved her and that all they need to do was to... to "hang in there," just like the posters said. But he couldn't let what she'd started, what she'd pulled him into, continue.
"Derek..."
He cut her off before she could start. "Shut up."
"Please..."
No, he couldn't let her talk him out of what needed to be done. "I said shut up!"
"No! You have no idea! You have no idea what they took from us!"
"What?"
"Our baby, Derek! I was pregnant!"
'What the hell? She can't actually believe I'm going to fall for this.'
"The last time I saw you, before the Carter shipped out, I missed my period. I didn't tell you because I wanted to be sure."
'No. No! This can't be!' Not only did he know that she'd missed, she had told him- and he'd been there when she'd gotten tested! 'This has to be some sort of a trick, unless... Oh no. Not... Oh, Jesse... Please, God, don't let it be this...' "How did you know?"
"The metal bitch. Your nephew's metal BITCH! When we got back to dry land that thing debriefed me. When it was done it told me that it was sorry... can you imagine? It told me it was SORRY! It told me the doctors didn't know how it happened but I'd lost the baby. I'd lost our baby, because of THEM!"
"Stop it. Just stop it!" That wasn't how it happened, and his Jesse would have known that. That meant that the only explanation... "I don't even know you. I don't know who you are!"
"What do you mean? I'm Jesse. I'm your Jesse! And I'm telling you, they killed our child! They killed your child!"
He hardened his features, even though what was left of his heart was breaking on the inside. "You're not my Jesse. You never were."
Her only response was a tearful final, "Derek..." that she could barely get out, emotional as she was. And he could never tell her just why he was going to do what he was about to do. "John Connor said to let you go." She didn't even flinch as he pulled his gun and aimed it at her forehead. "I'm not John Connor."
A split second later he pulled the trigger.
03.20.2009 | 11:58 | PM | PST
Click-open-shut-click.
Click-open-shut-click.
Click-open-shut-click.
John was oblivious to how long he'd spent repeated the motion of clicking the shell of a pocket watch that held the key to his cybernetic protector's future open and clicking it shut only to repeat the process. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours.
He knew there was a clock on a table by the bed, but he never bothered to look at it.
The next thing John realized Derek was walking through the door.
For his part his Uncle looked... solemn. It was pretty much Derek's typical look, never truly happy or sad, just... there. At that particular moment he looked like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders only to be replaced with a heavier one.
He spoke as he came to rest near the window, peering out through the Venetian blinds. "Complications."
Click-open-shut-click.
John didn't respond, not sure what his Uncle meant. The older man turned his head and indicated the watch turned detonator.
"That watch. It has complications. Something I learned. Something I've been thinking about."
Click-open-shut-click.
John hadn't told anyone about the watch. Did Derek know? "Complications?"
"Yeah. Time. The future."
The younger man sighed, internally. 'At least he thinks its only a watch.'
Click-open-shut-click.
"What do they think of me? In the future, what do people think?" He already knew Cameron's answer to the question, but he wanted Derek's take. How much would his Uncle sugarcoat his answer?
"If you're asking if...people agree with everything you do, of course not. If you're asking if everybody loves you, love's a lot to ask for. You can't do what you do and...expect everyone to agree. Or to love you."
"And what is it that I do?"
"You lead."
'I lead.' "And they follow?"
"We follow. We rise or fall on your shoulders. Humanity rises or falls."
The words struck a chord with him, so similar to those spoken by the Terminators in his dream; "Humanity lives for you. And humanity dies for you. We live for you, and we die for you. Even Skynet lives and dies for John Connor."
"But, we're always watching."
"For me to make a mistake?"
"For you to be human."
'By whose measure?' "Did you do it? Did you kill her?"
"John Connor let her go."
"What about Derek Reese?"
For a moment it seemed like the emotional dam that his Uncle kept his feelings trapped behind was about to break, but he composed himself before responding, "Derek Reese isn't John Connor."
A disgusted look fell over John's face. He'd let her go. He hated her for what she'd done, for the life she'd taken from Riley and the future she'd almost destroyed, but he didn't want her dead.
"You care about... her... right? Jesse wasn't just on a mission- it was more like a Crusade. She wasn't going to stop coming after you, or her. And you may not want to hear this, but if we don't stop Judgment Day this won't be the last time something like this happens."
"What does that mean?"
"Grays, traitors, people who disobey orders, you will execute people in the future. Like it or not that's exactly what this was- the execution of a traitor."
"Yeah, a traitor. What does that make you?"
"Like you said, it makes me an accessory."
John revealed his heretofore unseen gun, aiming it straight for his Uncle's head. "So I should put a bullet in your head?"
To his credit, Derek didn't even flinch. "Future you would."
Unexpectedly, John cocked the gun. Seconds passed. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.
Derek held his composure, but was thrown by how still John's nerves were as he held the gun. Not only was his nephew not shaking, he had the stillness of a statue. Or a Terminator.
Thirty. Thirty-five. Forty.
At forty-five seconds both men noticed that the smallest bead of sweat had formed at Derek's brow.
As quickly as he'd cocked the weapon, John relaxed his stance and safetied it. "Future John doesn't live here."
"I think he does. I think he emerged tonight. And now that he's out of the box there's no going back. Part of me regrets that it had to be this way, but a bigger part is glad. If we don't stop Judgment Day..."
"We are going to stop Judgment Day. From now on we're not treating that as our most desired outcome, we're treating it as the only option. Tell me the rest of the story."
"Huh?"
"What we started in the truck. The future; your future. I want to know everything else you haven't told me; no more secrets, no more lies. Talk."
A nostalgic look came over the elder Reese brother's face. "'This is John Connor. If you're listening to this, you are the resistance.' The first time I heard your voice that's what you said. When you found me the group Kyle and I were with lived in the remains of a sewage treatment plant not far from Century. Kyle had been gone for a while, but we'd heard stories about the resistance. One of the kids had a shortwave radio. Every night we'd listen to you. You spoke in code, giving people instructions, directing them to safe houses, places they could get medical treatment and telling them how they were the only hope for the human race. Sometimes he'd even give instructions on how people could contact the resistance. You had to be pretty damn smart to figure him... you... out. That bunch I was with were good kids, tough kids- survivors. But soldiers? They wouldn't have gotten within a mile of Century before getting massacred. I figured out your instructions and I made contact. You responded to me. It wasn't much of a response, just "Soon, Spaceman," but it told the tale. We'd been hiding in the pipes for weeks with just barely enough room to breathe. There were only two other guys my age and a handful of twelve to fourteen-year-olds. The rest were between four and ten. Me and one of the others were out searching for food when you came with the scout party. Some of the kids told stories of gangs of cannibals hiding in the hills and killing anyone who got close. We'd never seen you or anyone from the resistance and we thought you were from one of those gangs. There was a woman with you group standing over one of the little kids. I thought she was going to choke him or cut his throat or something. I came running as fast as I could straight at her, and just as I was about to slam into her you came out of nowhere and grabbed me. It turned out she'd just been wiping his face after giving him a granola bar. That was the first time in weeks that me or any of those kids ate anything other than dead sewer rats. It was also the first time since I'd know that kid that his face wasn't dirty. Not only was that the first time I ever saw you, but it was the first time I ever saw... her."
"Her? Jesse?"
"Cameron," his Uncle corrected.
"I was there. I've always been there."
"That was in 2015. For the next twelve years I never saw you without her, but for about thirty seconds. No matter where you went or what you did she was there. When you came out of your quarters in the morning she walked out right behind you. When you went back to them at night she followed you in and locked the door. Everybody joked that she was your shadow, always to your right and half a step behind."
John couldn't decide which question he wanted to ask first; there were so many. "Thirty seconds?"
Derek smiled, recalling a pleasant memory. "You remember I told you that I spent your 30th birthday getting drunk with you? She was there. You whispered something in her ear. She... giggled.. in this funny way she did back then, and left the room. You told me that was her birthday present to you- thirty seconds alone without her on your 30th birthday, so that I could ask you anything I wanted. I asked why she always stood half a step behind you. You told me that you would have preferred she stand right beside you, but she... felt... she had to defer to you just like everyone else. Twelve years I spent waiting to talk to you without her and what did we talk about? Her." The whole time he'd been talking he never stopped smiling.
It was the only time John could remember Derek not looking angry while discussing Cameron.
He stopped for a few minutes, obviously contemplating his next words. As he did the smile turned into a frown. "Something changed after that. Everything changed; you, her, the resistance, the war. For almost two years it had been in a stalemate. In '27 the tide seemed to turn in our favor, but just barely. Not long after your birthday she disappeared from sight. People thought something happened to her, that you sent her on a mission or something, but your personal guards swore they saw her in your quarters every morning and every night. Then I was captured on a mission, held in the remains of some old plantation style house. I don't remember what happened there other than hearing the sound of someone playing a piano and a T-600 taking me and the dozen other resistance fighters to a room in the basement one by one. We were all chained to the floor while we waited to be taken down there. One morning we woke up and the T-600 was gone along with the chains. We never found out what happened to us. At the same time one of our most important people, your top scientific adviser was captured. A few days later Cameron came back with him. It was the first time I'd seen her in months and when I saw her something snapped in my head. I don't know how I knew but I knew she'd been at that house where we were held. I couldn't remember anything, and I had no proof, but I never felt so strongly about anything. And she was different- she never smiled, she never giggled, hardly ever talked and she always had that blank look on her face, just like them. Then one day I learned the truth."
"What do you mean, 'the truth?'"
"The truth of what she was."
"You mean..."
"I didn't know. For twelve years I had no idea what she was. Practically no one did. Then one day a triple-eight, one of your reprogrammed ones, it went bad. It almost killed me. She stopped it with her bare hands. I was more scared than I'd ever been in my life. When she was done with it she turned to me, her eyes glowing. I knew. I still remember her saying, "Sometimes they go bad." It was like I was hearing her true voice for the first time. She'd just saved my life, and all I could think about was how much I hated her for being one of them, how much I hated you for letting her get so close to you and worst of all was I hated Kyle for knowing what she was and not telling me."
"My father knew about Cameron, but you didn't?"
"When we raided Century you were injured. Kyle carried you out of there on his back. He got himself injured in the process. I don't know why you and her were separated but when she saw that you were injured she was hysterical. She watched over the two of you until you'd both recovered. I guess somewhere during that time the two of them had a heart to... mechanical heart. Other than you and me he trusted her more than anyone else. You won't believe it but I tried to take that into consideration after I found out what she really was. Same thing when I came to live with you in this time. But I could never get over the idea that she had a part in whatever happened to me in that basement. And I could never get over the fact that he didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth- that he trusted... her... more than me. The only reason I found out was because you told me before you sent me back."
John tried to digest everything he'd been told. "So, all of this, Riley pretending to be in love with me, Jesse's little plot to screw up the future and you sitting idly by and letting it happen, this was all okay because you had a feeling about Cameron? Because you were mad at my future self for not telling you what she was? Or because Kyle kept something from you?" He couldn't help but take a page out of the book of the female Terminator who'd insulted him in his dream, "I thought you were more of a man than that."
He didn't think his Uncle would take John's summation of his character with the grace that he did. Instead of getting angry and flying off the handle the elder man slouched in his chair even more than he already had. "I wanted to die. I thought Kyle was dead. At that point I didn't know about the TDE's, time travel or the 'secret mission' you sent him on. And I felt betrayed because of the metal. I never supported you when it came to reprogramming them. When we get sent back you have someone talk to us about time travel, that scientist she rescued. He told us that no matter what we weren't to do anything that could hurt your position in the future as we knew it. But I couldn't help myself. Jesse never came out and told me what she was trying to do, but I knew she was up to something. I feel like a dumbass for letting her manipulate me and a fool for betraying you. I never even considered that Riley could be involved. But if anything Jesse did kept you and... her... apart then I was alright with it. It goes against everything your future self would have wanted, everything we were trained for, but I couldn't get past my past. You wanted to know about the future. Well, now you do."
Click-open-shut-click.
Something about the explanation didn't make sense. If he'd followed events as Derek had just laid them out then they'd taken place in 2027. But his mother told him that Kyle said he'd been sent back from the year 2029. And the way he'd said, "Everything changed" in 2027. The puzzle was starting to take shape, but there were still big pieces missing, and he suspected that the answers were among the memories that Cameron couldn't access because his future self had somehow encrypted them. His Uncle had just given him plenty of information. There was no reason for him to withhold anything now, so if there was an explanation for the time discrepancy he doubted that Derek would have it.
Click-open-shut-click.
John slipped the watch into his pocket and stood up.
"I told Jesse that she had to live with what she'd done. I guess she died with it instead. Now you have to be the one to live with it all, not just Riley but Jesse too. I refuse to let myself feel guilty for this whole thing. From now on, you don't say a word about Cameron. You want to carry your hatred to the grave that's your business, but when you're in my presence or hers you bury it." John said.
"And Sarah?"
"I know she feels the same way about Cameron that you do. That's between her and I. Let this whole thing be a lesson about plotting behind my back. If I think that you're enabling her in an effort to cause Cameron harm then you're no longer my Uncle."
"I thought that's the way we were now."
"No. You're still the only family I have other than Sarah Connor. Don't think that doesn't mean something to me. As frustrated as I am with you that hasn't changed.
Derek could swear that John had been staring right through into his soul, or whatever was left of it, as he spoke. He expected more anger or a harsher condemnation of him and his actions, but it never came. Instead John turned his back and headed towards the door.
"There's something else you need to know," Derek said, halting John in his tracks. "Jesse was a good soldier, a loyal soldier, even though she didn't support certain decisions you made."
"This was a lot bigger than just not supporting certain decisions!"
"There's more to it than that. I told you it was a Crusade. She was brainwashed."
"Brainwashed?"
Derek nodded, looking like he couldn't believe it himself.
"How do you know?"
"I didn't confront her with the idea of killing her. I was going to stand with you and just let her go, but I had a feeling... She mentioned something about the last time I saw her, in the future... Did Cameron tell you about the Jimmy Carter?"
"She told me Jesse was second-in-command and that sometime in the future Jesse asked her a question and she didn't like the answer."
"Did she happen to mention that Jesse was pregnant?"
"Pregnant? No! You mean Jesse was..."
"No. That's how I knew. Jesse wasn't pregnant. Right before she left on that mission she thought that she might be, so we had her tested. The results were negative. Someone, Grays most likely, brainwashed her- planted false memories. If we hadn't done that test I might have fallen for it. That's why I did what I did. It wouldn't have ended by just sending her away."
It was hard to imagine, but it made a perverse sort of sense. Why send Terminators that could be spotted by dogs and metal detectors when you could brainwash humans?
"Fucking-god damn, John, I can't believe I got played like this."
As angry as John was with his Uncle, he couldn't put any blame on him for this latest development. He stood beside the man and placed a hand on his shoulder, "We all did." He let a silent moment pass before continuing, "I'm sorry things turned out this way. I know you loved her."
"I loved... someone named Jesse Flores in a future that doesn't exist anymore. This girl wasn't her. Somewhere deep down inside I knew that. Everything changes from the minute you go back. Sooner or later the changes catch up with you and eventually your mind is able to make sense of it- at least that's what the Doctor told us. One day you realize you have two sets of memories. I guess I haven't reached that point yet, but I know that this person... she was a stranger, and I'm a fool for trying to convince myself otherwise."
"You did say time travel messes with your head. I said the same thing once."
"I know... Your other 'Uncle.'"
He regarded his Uncle quizzically. "Let me guess, I told you about him too?"
"Everything from breaking your mom out of Pescadero to 'Hasta la vista, baby.' The first time I saw a 101 I got its attention by yelling, 'Hey, Uncle Bob!' I brought in its remains with the words 'I need a vacation' carved into its chest. You were pissed at me for a week."
Both men laughed, then spent several silent moments both staring at nothing in particular, each lost in his own thoughts.
John was the first to find his voice as he redirected his attention to his Uncle. "What about Jesse's body?"
Derek shrugged, his indifferent body language belying an inner turmoil that he likely had no idea how to express. He stepped toward the door to the room, motioning for John to follow. "It's Los Angeles- she's just a statistic; victim of a random act of violence. Or a gang initiation. Maybe armed robbery. Just another unidentifiable body for the Coroner to process- just like Riley. Just like Kyle. Cops will never find a murder weapon."
John stopped in his tracks, all sudden thought popping up that hadn't occurred to him earlier. "Oh no, the girl at the front desk- she saw me! She'll know I asked for a key card for this room! The cameras downstairs, they'll be able to identify me!"
Derek just shook his head, clasping his nephew's shoulder. "They won't bother asking. They'll ask a few questions, but when they don't find identification and the Coroner doesn't get a response on the body the whole thing goes to the bottom of a stack of cold case files, if it even goes that far. Like I said, it's Los Angeles."
He was so nonchalant about saying it. He was probably right, but still... The casual indifference... It was enough to make the younger man wonder who the real machines were.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Special thanks to TaleWeaver for her proofreading efforts, and to all of you who have reviewed. Conversing with all of you continues to be an amazing experience!
According to areacodedownload dot com there is no 868 exchange in California's 424 area code, so I've satisfied the demands of due dilligence on that issue. If eventually there is an 868 exchange added to that area code, and if its owner starts getting prank calls asking for "K.O.," let me state up front that you have my deepest sympathies!