Chapter 9: The Mortality of the Machine
"This looks like a promising place to hide," Derek said of the house. It may have been in a neighborhood, but it had a few things going for it. The main thing was that it was empty. There was a For Sale sign on the front lawn and the materials scattered around the outside of the house hinted at a major remodeling project underway. The resistance soldier had peered through the windows and saw that much of the interior had been torn down to the frame. Yeah, no one was going to be living here with it like that.
Aside from a little open space, the back yard was heavily wooded and was a short jaunt from what Cameron identified as Highway 134. The back door was sliding glass, and all it took to gain entry was a softball-sized stone from the garden. He shattered the glass and stepped in, motioning for the others to follow. John, Sarah, and Cameron sprinted out of the woods and through the back door to join him.
"What do you think," he asked them, gesturing around.
"This will do," Sarah said, satisfied.
John was less enthusiastic once he got a good look around. "Let's see, buckets of turpentine, compressed air, and large canisters of flammable gas. Gosh, Derek, you found us the only house on the block made of explodium."
"I like explodium," Cameron quipped, "explosions are exciting."
"Yeah, not if I'm in them," John snapped.
The terminator agreed, "no. Not if you're in them."
"It'll have to do for a while, John," Sarah said by way of hushing them both, "why don't you two set about finding a phone and seeing if we have service to call Ellison. The faster you do that, the faster he can bring the car and we can be gone."
Cameron made another look at their surroundings. "Given the state of this residence, we are unlikely to find a functioning telephone."
"Look for one anyway," Sarah sneered at her. Cameron's only response was to blow a bubble and walk away to do just that.
Derek waited until he and Sarah were alone. "Man, that was a wake-up call, wasn't it?"
"I always made the assumption that there would still be machines roaming around, supporting their missions, even if there was no future for them to come from any more."
"What are we going to do about her? Derek questioned, indicating Cameron. "She's pretty beat up." Cameron had damage to the left side of her face that could not be easily camouflaged. Her chrome skull between the hairline and the eye from temple to check bone was visible, as was a tear on the opposite side of her forehead. The damage approximate to her left eye had caused the biological eyeball to redden noticeably. She had bullet holes in her shirt that showed metal underneath, and she was walking with a limp. There was no hiding what she was.
Sarah shrugged, "She'll heal up in a few days. Damage has been worse before and she ended up being fine. By the time we get back home, she'll look normal again." Sarah walked over to a window, gingerly stepping over tools and pieces of sheet rock. The sun was starting to go down. They had been on the run most of the day, and they were lucky that Cameron had managed to throw their pursuer off their trail for a while. The machine had complained that since she had been unable to destroy him, he would continue his pursuit of them. But having no leads, it would take him time to catch up with them again. So long as they didn't bring attention to themselves, they would be able to escape him. He would be searching for them a continent away.
He, too, had taken damage, and would not be able to operate easily without conducting some serious repairs to his biological cover. He had gaps in his skin all over his face, torso, and arms that would show obvious metal. And, Cameron reminded them, since he could not continue his immediate chase of them, he would likely retire somewhere to make these repairs and monitor for their discovery. It's what she would be doing in his place.
They heard laughter coming from the area of the kitchen. Two voices, John and Cameron, were trading amusement. Sarah gave Derek a glance, and they followed the sound.
"You should have seen the look on your face," Cameron said, her smile wide, "when he pulled the trigger of that fake gun and the flag came out."
"I was sure I was dead," John shook his head. He could laugh about it now, but it had been terrifying then.
"Your eyes were wide," the machine continued through her own guffaws, "and your shirt was covered with glitter!"
John snickered too, and, discovering a few flakes of the sparkly stuff, brushed it away.
Sarah interrupted their conversation. "How's the search going?"
"There's a telephone on the kitchen counter," Cameron pointed out.
"Did you try it?"
"Not yet," John said.
"So you decided that goofing off was a better idea?"
"We weren't goofing off," Cameron insisted.
Sarah smirked at her, "call Ellison. Do it now." The machine was now completely serious and obviously perturbed, but she dutifully picked up the phone. Surprised to hear a dial tone, Cameron punched the numbers in. As she did so, Sarah looked at her son and smirked, "it actually was pretty funny."
John shrugged, "it is now. Now that I'm not dead." Ellison had apparently picked up, and Cameron was talking to him.
Sarah approached her son and gave him a hug, a rare thing for her to do. "I'm just glad you're okay."
"Hey," Cameron called, "what's the address?"
"I'll go see if it's on the house." Sarah said. She gave one more look at her son, slapped him on the shoulder, and went to the front door to see if she could tell. There wasn't a number posted on the house anywhere by the door. She would have to go out to the mailbox to get it. It would have to be fast. Trying hard not to look suspicious while at the same time keeping her situational awareness Sarah ambled out to the mailbox to find the house number. It was on the side in tall silver letters. The house number was 703. A quick glance at the nearest street sign told her what road they were on. She went back into the house to report her findings to Cameron, oblivious to the parted blinds in the window of a house across the street.
X
Tagwell had stopped to only make the briefest of repairs. After raiding a drug store of bandages and duct-taping some of his flesh jacket back together, his immediate next task was to find a way to track down the Connors. It was most likely that they would not be able to move very far and escape the attention of law enforcement, not on foot. And the same would be true if they stole a car. Thus, Tagwell reasoned, that access to a police radio would likely render him the best results and highest chance of success.
It did not take him long to find a police cruiser sitting in a parking lot. The officer inside, a sergeant, was monitoring his dispatch while using the mounted laptop to play solitaire. He was not paying any attention to what was really going on around him. The window was rolled up, but that was not really an obstacle. Tagwell could have easily just smashed through the window and grabbed the officer, but chose instead a different path. The terminator wrapped on it lightly with his knuckles. Startled, the cop's head swiveled and his eyes found Tagwell waiting patiently outside his cruiser. The smudged slightly fogged window disguised the worst of Tagwell's injuries. The officer rolled the window down.
"Can I help you, sir?" the patrolman asked. Tagwell's only response was to punch him across the face, rendering him unconscious. He unlocked the door of the Crown Victoria and tossed its former occupant to the asphalt. His first order of business was to retrieve the policeman's pistol from his belt. It was a 3rd generation Glock 17C chambered for 9x19. The magazine was loaded to capacity. Perfect.
The radio beeped. "All units, all units, home invasion in progress at 703 Downs Circle. Suspect believed to match the description of fugitive Sarah Connor." That caught Tagwell's attention. He turned up the volume. "Suspect is likely accompanied by at least three accomplices escaped from FBI custody early this afternoon. They are armed and considered extremely dangerous. Exercise caution until arrival of special tactical units."
Tagwell shut off the radio and started the car. He had heard all he needed to hear.
X
Cameron heard the police coming before she saw them. By demodulating the sirens, she determined that there were at least seven vehicles on the way. She was quickly proven right as five cars and two SWAT vans wheeled around the corner and rolled up to the driveway. They were barely at a stop before the doors flew open and the cops began to deploy.
"Sarah," she shouted, "we have company." And she walked into the kitchen from the entryway. The three humans were standing there, apparently not at all prepared for the news. "What should we do?"
Sarah let out a sigh, "what can we do? Ellison should be here any minute."
"I told him to call when he was on the road behind the house," Cameron informed, "the woods between us and the road are pretty thick. We should go ahead and leave now. Wait for him."
"We can't just slip out the back and expect to get away," Derek said, "they probably have roadblocks set up if we try to escape. Cops aren't dumb."
John smacked the countertop, "we're trapped."
"Like rats," Sarah added by way of agreement. Out of some strange hope that perhaps Cameron could just walk out and take care of it, she scurried into the living room and peered through the blinds. The two dozen police officers and SWAT operators taking positions outside caused an icy pit to form in her stomach. There was no way she could ask Cameron to just go out there and take care of business. The terminator had no weapons and with her current level of malfunctions and damage, she'd be incapacitated in short order. It would solve nothing and needlessly cost John his protector. Sarah would have none of that. John would never forgive her.
The woman was momentarily stunned at her lack of willingness to put Cameron in harm's way, even if that's what the cyborg girl was most useful for. Seeing Cameron killed… destroyed was a terrifying idea and not just because it was wasteful of a resource she had come to depend on. But Sarah was a professional compartmentalizer and so she shut the thoughts out as useless and needless concepts.
A man with a megaphone, obviously the senior officer, pointed his deviced at the house and called to them "SARAH CONNOR! JOHN CONNOR! WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED! THERE IS NO ESCAPE! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP NOW! YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES TO ANSWER OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE ON THE HOUSE!"
Derek slipped up next to her and peered out along with her. "They sure do have a lot of guns," he said, almost humorously.
"We're not sending her out there," Sarah said sternly.
Derek hadn't asked, but he was surprised by what she said. Still, he responded evenly. "Wouldn't make a difference." He put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "C'mon, Sarah. Let's get you away from the window. Snipers with thermal scopes could see you bright as day."
She agreed, and stepped away from the window just as one last police car rolled recklessly over the curb, taking out a street sign as it did.
Cameron replaced them, playing lookout.
Tagwell stepped from the police cruiser behind the swarm of human law enforcement personnel. Their weapons and attention were all focused on the house. The terminator had only the pistol, but with a quick scan of the SWAT operators, he determined that it would serve him well to acquire one of their weapons. He decided as he strode up behind them that he would take one of the Heckler & Koch MP5A3s in their possession. He reached down and snatched one by the barrel, kicking its owner aside eliciting a yelp.
Suddenly, all of the attention was on him, but he ignored it as he checked the weapon and kept walking. They called to him to drop it and lay down, but with his objective this close and very little threat detected, he chose to maintain his course. Halfway to the front door, someone decided to play hero and put three pistol rounds into his back. At this he stopped just long enough to turn and glare at them as one of their number screamed to hold fire. They all stared at him, stunned by what they had just seen. He hoisted his two weapons and continued the inexorable march towards his targets.
The pops of the pistol drew Cameron's attention and she saw Tagwell coming for the door, weapons in hand. "Sarah," she shouted, "our friend is back."
"Hold him off," John Connor's mother commanded her, as if there was any question, and then shoved her son towards the stairs "go!"
Cameron watched them scramble upstairs before the splintering of the door caught her attention. The enemy terminator stepped inside, ready to kill.
You could have been all I wanted but you weren't honest. Now get in the ground!
The female terminator threw herself at him as he raised his guns to fire. She managed to knock the pistol from his grip, but a shot from it went through her right hand and two rounds from the MP5 caught her in the abdomen. Tagwell gripped the back of her shirt and used it to sling her into the wall.
You choked off the surest of favors. But if you really loved me, you would have endured my world.
The naked drywall collapsed around her in a rush of powder and crumbs. She was barely down long enough to register as she shot back up and came at Tagwell again. Her main focus was to disarm him, but he used his greater reach to keep the weapon out of her hands and shoved her aside again.
Well if you're just as I presumed. A whore in sheep's clothing fucking up all I do.
He was marching up the stairs when she leapt upon his back, knocking him down and flattening him against the stairs. She immediately assaulted the joint of his left shoulder, slamming it with her metal knuckles and depriving it of strength.
And if so, then here we stop. Then never again will you see this in your life.
He rolled sideways and swept her into the railing with his free arm. She crashed through it and fell to the first floor, landing on her stomach. The cyborg girl pushed up immediately and scrambled up the steps as Tagwell entered the upstairs common and began to pursue the Connors down the hallway, raising the gun to fire.
Hang on to the glory at my right hand.
Here laid to rest is a love ever longed.
Cameron tackled and sent him sprawling. The butt of the MP5 slammed into the floor and flew free from his hands. It was just a foot out of his reach and he snatched for it to no avail. He rolled over and put his boot in her face once, twice, and again. As his guardian was hammered, Sarah saw an opportunity and dove for the weapon. She came up with it just inches from his reach.
With truth on the shores of compassion,
You seem to take premise to all of these songs
As he kicked Cameron away, Sarah took aim at Tagwell and pulled the trigger. The gun coughed once and then clicked impotently. As he stood, she realized that she had a jam. The rough treatment must have done something to the feed. She retreated as he reached for her. Cameron caught his other arm and threw him up against the wall.
You stormed off to scar the armada. Like Jesus played martyr I'll drill through your hands!
Tagwell gripped Cameron's wrist and spun the tables on her. He groped for something to use and came up with a screwdriver. As she advanced on him, he shoved her back against the wall and then slammed the screw driver through her undamaged palm and into a stud in the wall. Cameron could not hold back the scream of pain.
The stone for the curse you have blamed me. With love and devotion, I'll die as you sleep.
All three of the humans were startled by the sound of Cameron's agony. Sarah had been trying to clear the jam, but was so shaken by what she heard, a machine sounding like a tortured girl, that she could not steady her hands. John took the weapon from her and began to inspect it. A brass casing had wedged itself between the next round and the front bolt. He started working on the problem.
But if you could just write me out to neverless wonder, happy will I become.
Tagwell determined that his best course of action would be to destroy this defending unit before proceeding to terminate John Connor. To achieve this new objecting, he began slamming his fist into her face, tearing the damaged flesh further. His other arm braced her against the wall. He noticed her cries of pain as he throttled her again and again and realized just how vulnerable she was.
Be true that this is no option, so with sin I condemn you!
Demon play, demon out!
With sadistic intent, Tagwell gripped the front of Cameron's shirt and tore her from the wall, the screwdriver stayed put, ripping the skin between her fingers. He whirled and flung her into a door, and she went crashing into a bathroom, smashing hard into the counter and collapsing it.
Hang on to the glory at my right hand
Here laid to rest is a love ever longed.
He was on top of her again, pinning her with one arm while repeatedly slamming his fist into her face and head like a steam piston. As he slowly wrecked her, he could see the fear and pain on her damaged face. She was going to die and she would do so knowing that she had failed.
With truth on the shores of compassion
You seem to take premise from all of these songs.
As Tagwell beat Cameron, John had managed to get his index finger into the eject and tug out the jammed casing. Free, the bolt rammed the next round home and crushed his finger. He cursed as he jerked the wounded appendage out. Already it was swelling. He would lose the nail, but he had gained a weapon. He began to stand up to put it to use.
One last kiss for you.
One more wish to you.
Sarah grabbed him by the hem of his shirt. "John, what are you doing?!" she demanded. His green eyes glared at her with angry determination.
Please make up your mind, girl
I'll do anything for you…
Cameron screamed again as she was beaten. John knew he had to do something. If she died, they had no chance. Sarah saw his determination. In that moment, she saw the leader of men that he was supposed to be. By way of blessing, she released her grip on him.
One last kiss for you.
One more wish to you.
John came out of the room they had been hiding in and raised the weapon, placing the ring sight directly on the back of Tagwell's head. He thumbed the safety off and selected full automatic as he watched the enemy machine's arm strike Cameron again and again.
Please make up your mind girl
Before I hope you die!
He squeezed the trigger and the MP5 sprayed angrily. John knew that full auto was wasteful in most cases, but if he was to get Tagwell's attention, he had to use it. His aim was abnormally steady, steadier than he had ever fired. The nine millimeter FMJ rounds stitched along his target's spine and head, splaying open cloned flesh and spraying red bionutrient in every direction. Twenty-six bullets had made significant marks in the already mutilated machine's exterior. It also caught Tagwell's attention. The machine assassin turned at first in annoyance to look over its shoulder, then realized what it could not have otherwise believed possible. John Connor had actually come out to engage. Tagwell stood and turned to face the teenage boy, now armed only with an empty weapon, and made his advance. Both arms reaching for the savior of mankind, the ultimate target, who only stood his ground with an angry confidence on his face.
Before Tagwell could reach him, Cameron was already on her feet, enacting her greatest of directives. She kicked Tagwell's legs out from underneath him with a quick swipe of her feet. He collapsed sideways and before he could recover, she was already using her immense strength to lift him by the shirt and smash him into a wall. Releasing her grip, she punched him in the throat, a distracting measure, while she put a knee into his stomach. Reactively he doubled and she balled up her fists, swinging them at his face like a baseball bat, like a wrecking ball. Facial sheath went flying as she proceeded to make him as ugly as she now was. He went down.
Cameron turned to her charge, and John was shocked to see the naked blue lens of her left machine eye looking at him opposite the beautiful brown on the right. "John, go" she ordered before returning to her target, who was now recovering.
Suddenly, his mother and Derek were behind him. His uncle threw an arm around his waist and lifted him from the floor as Cameron landed a roundhouse kick on Tagwell's shoulder that sent her target sprawling.
"We'll have to chance the back," Sarah shouted over the sound of metal pounding metal.
"We'll probably get caught."
"We can break back out again if we have to!"
None of them were prepared for what happened next. Tagwell had managed to gain the upper hand again and lift Cameron, smashing her twice into the ceiling before using her as a projectile. She knocked down Derek and John. The two male humans and one female machine fell hard and dominoed into Sarah, sending the woman tumbling down the stairs. Derek's head was dashed against a wall and his vision filled with stars. Cameron was already up, and John's fall had been broken by Derek, so the boy was also able to quickly recover. Tagwell reached for John, who was just lurching to his feet. Cameron interjected herself between them, reversing Tagwell's elbow just as the Skynet machine got a grip on John's shirt. Control in the limb destroyed, his grip went loose and John was able to escape. The boy chose to help a dazed Derek to his feet as Tagwell gripped Cameron's face with his free hand and toss her down again. Maintaining her as a target, he strode over to her, intent on crushing her spinal structure with his foot. Cameron would have none of it. She deflected his boot and sent him tumbling sideways. Ignoring the damage indicators from all over her body, Cameron realized that perhaps she could use Tagwell's own approach against him. Perhaps landing both her knees full force on his back would do enough damage to render him immobile. She jumped and came down just as her opponent rolled out of the way.
The floor beneath them had suffered excessive stresses since their battle began, with the two metal cyborgs pounding on it just as frequently and with just as much force as on eachother. Cameron's attack was the final blow, and the floor collapsed beneath the two terminators, dropping them onto the first storey with unceremonious force and a cloud of dust and splinters. Tagwell was up first and he lifted Cameron, throwing her with all the force he could muster into the wall next to the fireplace. The blow was not severe, and Cameron stood from the crushed wall ready to attack. She left behind a penetrated pipe that began spewing gas into the house. A safety valve down the line cut off the leak quickly, but not before an invisible haze of methane, nitrogen, and hydrogen sulfide had rushed in as the two machines fought.
The two terminators continued to trade blows as the humans escaped through the shattered back door. Cameron managed to finally throw Tagwell down and turned to escape, but as she turned to depart, her replaced ankle servo finally gave up the ghost and failed. Unable to quickly adapt to the failure, she collapsed to the floor. Tagwell had yet to get up, but he was able to grip her other ankle and pull her back towards him for final destruction. Meanwhile, John had looked back to check on Cameron. When he saw her situation, he reacted. He glanced around for a weapon and came up with a heavy sledgehammer. He picked it up and charged into the fray with only the slightest protest from Derek and supportive silence from his mother. He landed a heavy blow against Tagwell's arm, loosening his grip and allowing Cameron to crawl away. His assault didn't stop. Tagwell's critical damage left him vulnerable and John took no pity. He kept driving the hammer into Tagwell's scalp as though he were driving a spike, crashing the ten pound head into the terminator's skull. Tagwell was unable to react defensively aside from turning his head in a desperate play to protect his chip hatch. John assaulted the machine for so long and with such fury that the wooden handle of the hammer finally gave way and snapped.
Without breaking pace, John tossed aside the broken weapon and helped Cameron to her feet. He hoisted her up by getting his arm around her back. Her arm across his shoulder, he limped her out and into the yard to escape. His mother and uncle were at the edge of the treeline, urging them to hurry. John shot one last look over his shoulder as he aided Cameron across the yard. Tagwell appeared at the door, a pistol in his hand. He had obviously managed to recover it from where Cameron had knocked it from his hand earlier. John tried to get them moving faster, but Cameron's damage was holding them back. She fell and John nearly went down with her. He reached down to try to pull her back up again. The enemy terminator was raising his weapon now, locking John's head in the crosshairs of his HUD. His target was barely moving, and the likelihood he would hit the boy was acceptable. He squeezed the trigger. Cameron gripped the hem of John's shirt.
The firing pin struck the round, sparks flew as the powder ignited and blasted the bullet down the barrel. But the striking pin ignited more than just the powder in the round. The natural gas that had spewed from the utility line followed the flow of air though the broken glass door and was thick enough around Tagwell to ignite. While not explosive, there was a rush of flame as the small fire began in the chamber of the pistol grew as all of the natural gas in the house ignited. The flames in turn set the tanks of welding fuel and buckets of turpentine alight. A rolling gout of flame blasted out every window and caught on Tagwell's clothes. The terminator was consumed in flames hot enough to melt the biological skin from his endoskeleton. The thermal shock brought him to the ground.
John watched the house and Tagwell burn as he lay on his back in the yard. Cameron had managed to pull him to the ground at the instant that Tagwell had pulled the trigger. John had heard the bullet snap by him as the house was engulfed in flames. Still, there was no waiting. The fire wasn't thermite. It wasn't enough to destroy Tagwell's endoskeleton. They needed to take this opportunity to escape. He heaved Cameron to her feet again and they helped each other to the treeline as fast as was possible. In a hundred and twenty seconds, they would be facing the naked metal death that was Tagwell.
"I can't run," Cameron said, wincing as she tried to stand on her own. No dice. John went to get her in a fireman's carry, but Derek put a hand to his chest.
After an angry glance from his nephew, Derek said "I got her this time." He threw her across his shoulder and they ran through the woods, emerging by the street. Sarah saw a familiar silver sedan rolling by and jumped out to stop it. James Ellison pulled Cameron's car over to the shoulder of the road, his face stunned and urgent. They were quick to pile in.
"What happened," the former FBI man asked.
"Drive," Sarah commanded. Ellison wasted no time. He looked up into the rearview mirror at Cameron, who was seated in the back between John and Derek. He had seen terminators damaged before but he was still stunned to see the left upper quarter of her face was nothing but metal. Sarah knew what he was looking at. "She'll be fine. She'll heal."
"I hope so," Ellison replied.
Cameron, for her part, was looking around the back seat of the car. "This is an interesting perspective," she said aloud. She had never ridden in the back seat of her own car before. Damage indicators were coming in from all over her body. She had a lot of repairs to do, but she could handle it. It just all hurt so much. And she realized fully how dangerous it was for her to feel and react to pain. She had nearly failed in her mission, and it had been John's actions endangering his own life that had kept her alive. He had risked himself for her again. He kept risking himself for her.
Maybe she had been too hard on him. Or maybe the reason she had been is because this was what she had been looking for the whole time. She wasn't certain. She was not at all certain.
"Uh oh," Ellison said. They all looked out the windshield to see it. It was a traffic stop. Six police cruisers were blocking the road, checking the IDs of anyone entering and leaving the area. Ellison pulled up behind the fourth car.
"We should run," Sarah said, reaching for the door handle.
Ellison put a hand on her shoulder "No. They'll make you for sure then. We may have to sweat this out."
"I don't like to sweat," Cameron protested. The moment of lightheartedness was lost on the human population of the car. Cameron did what she could to keep the new fear flowing through her. She was as good as dead now. Death by disassembly. Slow and agonizing.
It was going to be their turn soon. "We can't stay here." Derek insisted.
"Do you think that they know we survived that explosion" John asked.
Ellison almost laughed, "you people have a history of escaping the inescapable. They know that."
"No time machine this time," Cameron said.
Sarah noticed that one of the policemen was talking into his radio. He walked back to his cruiser while his partner continued to stop cars and take IDs. The departed policeman was leaning in through his window, and she could just see his silhouette inside fiddling with the lap top on his dashboard. They were the next car when this man stood up and called to his partner. He was making a slashing gesture across his neck. The meaning was plain. Kill the operation now. "Now," the heard the other say as they rolled up with the window down.
"Yeah."
"Where does this come from?"
"High up."
"Like precinct?"
"No," was the reply, "way high up."
"Cool with me." Without even a glance at Ellison and his passengers, the cop wished them a good evening and headed for his cruiser. The others cleared the street and waved the remaining traffic through. The Connor team was left to wonder at it. Only Cameron, the curious machine, was wont to question it.
"I wonder what happened," she asked as they drove away.
After a silence, Derek answered her, "luck smiled on us for once. It can even smile on a machine." Cameron took the answer with a silent smile.
X
They left Ellison someplace where he could catch a taxi back to Virginia Beach. He Sarah thanked him for the help. Maybe it was a good idea to keep him as a friend after all. They exchanged smiles, and he wished them luck before they drove away.
"Dibs on the first shift," Sarah said. She had always loved being on the road and in spite of the day's events, she was not at all tired.
"You can have it," Derek agreed before making himself comfortable in the front passenger seat.
"Ditto," John called, and leaned against his door.
"I'm going to shut down and conduct the needed program repairs. I will be available to take over in eighteen hours and twenty-seven minutes."
"Hey, wait," Sarah cried, her good mood showing through, "I need someone to help keep me awake."
John punched the back of Derek's seat "your job. Just be warned, she plays a mean game of Bug Slug."
"Bug Slug," Cameron looked at him quizzically.
"Yeah," John began to tell her, "it's a…" and he cleared his throat, remembering his own advice to his mother.
Sarah glanced at the cyborg in the mirror "Cameron, maybe you should go ahead and do what you need to do."
The machine never broke her eyes from John, but she agreed aloud "I do. I should. We almost lost back there because I couldn't control my pain responses." She saw a flash of disappointment in John's eyes. Despite all the things they had said to each other, all of the arguing they had done, there was the chance that he liked her better this way. But it couldn't be right now. "You know what I need to do," she told him without being stern, "you know what I have to be. Just as you know what you have to be. We need to be those things right now John. We need to be those people."
"I know," he replied quietly.
She sought to reassure him, "someday this will all be over. Someday, this war is going to end. Until that day comes, I will need to be the best machine I can be. But when the day comes that I no longer need to be a machine, I will need to learn how to be the best person I can be." She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you for saving me," and without warning, she leaned up and lightly kissed him on the lips. It was enough, just enough, to truly express her gratitude. And Cameron realized that maybe, just maybe, she had lied to him when she sneeringly told him what was impossible. Someday, just not right now. And before the disappointment could grip her and make her second-guess the decision, she leaned away from him, rested her head against the window, and shut herself down.
John watched her, and it was as if she fell asleep. He squeezed her hand again and looked down at it, seeing the tears in the flesh, the bare chrome knuckles protruding from the soft biological skin, the stigmata rip in her palm. She would remind him that he should be patient. But he was not a machine, he didn't want to be patient. He let out a sigh. "Well, mom, you won't mind if I keep you company back here?"
"That's just fine," Sarah said, having either not listened to the exchange or not cared, "want to play the license plate game?"
John grinned, "sure. Better than Bug Slug I already see a Virginia tag."
"Write it down."
"Okay."