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Terminator: Genisys and Revelations

Chapter 3: Rise of the Machines

It was February 23, 2018, and they'd checked into a place called the Tiki Motel.

Four months had passed since the destruction of Cyberdyne, and with it, Genisys. The former wouldn't be rebuilt due to bankruptcy. The latter wouldn't be rebuilt because they'd erased every trace of it. She knew that she'd put thousands out of work, but if that meant saving the lives of billions, it was a trade that Sarah told herself she could live with.

Least she told herself that as she watched the news. She knew what it was like to have no job security. Pops had provided for her as best he could, but when they'd moved from one place to another, keeping one step ahead of the T-1000, cash could be hard to come by. Well, least cash earned legitimately. But still, again, thousands whose futures were in jeopardy, even if she'd saved their lives.

"You still watching that?"

She glanced at Kyle. He'd walked in with a pair of bags, containing-

"Relax, it's food this time."

"Oh, thank God." She got off the couch and walked to the unit's kitchen area. "I mean, the plastic explosives idea was nice, but I've known how to make them since I was ten."

"Yeah? I learnt how to make them when I was nine."

She gave him a look.

"Fine. Thirteen." He gave her a smile, and for a moment, she returned it. But only for a moment, as she turned away, turning her gaze back to the TV screen. The news report had shifted from the fate of Cyberdyne, to the collapse of the Genisys systems core in its subterranean facility, to the hunt for the "terrorists" that had destroyed the complex, and left over a billion people pissed that Genisys wasn't going to be uploaded onto their gizmos. Not to mention the military's irritation that they'd lost a more efficient way to kill people.

"Terrorists," Sarah murmured. She looked back at Kyle. "Y'know, back in my day, it was the Reds. Now it's terrorists this, terrorists that."

Kyle didn't say anything. He was just getting pasta out from the bags.

"Do you even know how to cook that?"

He shrugged. "I can learn."

"Yeah, I've seen your learning," Sarah said. "It needs more…" She trailed off, and looked back at the screen.

"Sarah."

She barely heard him. She just watched as the news shifted from Cyberdyne to Syria – today's choice of "terrible places to be" in addition to Myanmar, Venezuela, and Iraq.

"Sarah?"

She felt his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them. She leant her head back against his. "No Skynet," she murmured, "no Genisys. And we're still killing each other."

"For what it's worth, in the future, people still killed each other from time to time. Human race didn't suddenly become angels when the world turned to Hell."

"I know, but…" She trailed off, broke free from Kyle's grasp, and began pacing around. "Still, I mean…if they had…"

"Sarah."

"…they're saying that Genisys is gone, but-"

"Sarah!"

She looked at him.

"Sarah, it's over," he said. "At some point, even you have to accept that."

"I know," she said. "But…"

"Sarah, I get it. You spend years looking for a way to stop Judgement Day, and now that you've done it, you don't know what to do." He shrugged. "I mean, I get it."

She gave him a look. "Really?"

"Yeah. Mean, I didn't think my life would involve fighting machines, plus time travel, plus Terminators, plus John, plus timelines, plus, well, everything. But, you're here. You're alive. And, hey. That's a victory, right?"

Sarah gave him a smile. "You're alive too," she whispered. She snorted, looking up at the ceiling. "I mean, Pops told me how you'd die. How I'd love you. How John would be born, and…well, guess none of that's happened, but now…" She looked back at him. "Now I…"

She went over and kissed him. Again, and again, and again. And he kissed her back. Genisys forgotten. Judgement Day forgotten. Heck, even the pasta forgotten. Because for all the hunger inside her right now, none of it had to do with food. Empty as her stomach was, her heart was now in control.

It didn't take them long to be on the bed together. To be pressed against one another, clothing having quickly been discarded. To, at last, as their eyes met, as Sarah gave her silent permission, for Kyle Reese to be inside her.

"Better late than never," she whispered.

"What?"

"You're thirty-four years too late."

He laughed. She didn't, as she gasped, as her hands tugged at the bedsheets beneath her. As she smiled, before kissing him.

This was meant to have happened. Over thirty years ago, in another timeline, this happened. It happened, John Connor was conceived, and Kyle Reese died hours later. But that was then. In this world, in this time, in a world with Skynet, or Judgement Day, with the only Terminator left one who was programmed to protect her…it didn't matter. They were together. They were free. Or, free as they could be outside a world that hunted them, but that was as free as she'd been in her life. So free, in fact, that she began to weep. She turned her head aside as she looked out into the night air beyond the curtains. How even as what was within her gave her pleasure, was in this moment, not enough to make her forget what had once been outside. Lurking in the darkness of past, present, and future.

"Sarah?"

She looked up at him. He was still there. Still alive.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, and kissed him, before he wiped away her tears. "I'm alright," she whispered. "Perfectly alright. I've…never been more alright."

"If you want to-"

"No." She put her hands on his cheeks and rose her face to meet his. "Never let me go Kyle. Please."

He said nothing, but in his eyes, she could tell she understood. Enough to lie back down on the bed and keep her eyes locked on the man above her. The man that be it by fate, destiny, or chance, that she had fallen in love with.

It didn't matter, she told herself, as time flowed on, alongside the waters of life that entered her body. Fate, chance, whatever. He was alive. She was alive.

And they were free.

Even with the jacket that Sunglasses had given her, Sarah shivered as she walked out into the sun.

Sarah Connor Senior had put her sunglasses back on, while Sarah Connor Junior shielded her eyes from the glare. Bright as the midday sun was, she felt little warmth from it. As they walked across the dirt, she coughed, and after she put her hand over her mouth, she found more flecks of blood on it. Sensation wasn't helped by the feeling of nausea within her stomach, and the headache she had coming on. Nor was stumbling.

Sunglasses glanced round. "You alright?"

She sounded like she was actually concerned. Sarah got to her feet. "I'm fine."

"Are you feeling…" Sunglasses trailed off, and nodded ahead. "Never mind. Come on."

Sarah tried to follow her, but while Sunglasses's pace wasn't all that fast, she was having trouble keeping up. Her short journey through time had done a number on her. But not so much a number that she couldn't glance at the other two girls. The black-haired girl was pressing the shotgun against her shoulder, and Grace was helping correct her pose.

"Who are they, anyway?" Sarah asked.

"People like us," Sarah said.

"Excuse me?"

"Grace is from the future. A protector. And Daniella is the one she's protecting."

So that was her name. Sarah looked at the black-haired girl again. She fired the shotgun at a bottle mounted on a bin. She missed the bottle, missed the bin, and her buttocks ended up on the dirt.

"Skynet's after her?" Sarah asked.

"Not in name, but in function," Sunglasses murmured.

"Excuse me?"

Sunglasses sighed, and stopped walking, allowing Sarah to catch up to her. "Skynet. Genisys. Legion. Three names for what's ultimately the same thing – an AI that tries to wipe out humanity, fails, and in a last ditch effort, sends assassins from the future to change the past."

"But we…I mean you…it was stopped, right? Skynet, the chip, the T-1000..."

"Skynet was stopped. Cyberdyne was destroyed. But Legion was created all the same as an anti-terrorism program installed in SAC NORAD, and did what its predecessor would have done in 1997, creating the same future decades later." Sarah came to a stop. "Grace is from that future. And Daniella's the only hope for it."

"Mother of the messiah?" Sarah murmured.

"No. The messiah."

Sarah frowned, remembering Skynet's words – I am Legion. Did it have any idea as to how right it was? Or, she wondered, maybe it had always known. A hundred versions spread across a hundred timelines, before it had met its end in one of them. Or maybe the 101st.

The two of them watched the girl get back up. She cast a glance at Sarah. She rose a hand in a quiet wave, but she went back to target shooting.

"And you're helping them," Sarah said. "Even when Skynet's not after you?"

Sunglasses started walking again.

"That's pretty noble."

Sunglasses grunted. "You think I'm doing it for kudos?"

"No. But I think…" She rubbed the back of her neck, before running her hand through her hair. "I think that's noble all the same."

Sunglasses glanced back at her. Right as Sarah took her hand out of her hair, and to her quiet horror, a whole bunch of hair with the hand.

The fuck?

"I was like Dani once," Sunglasses murmured. She looked back at the two women doing target practice. "I went through what she's going through now." She looked back at Sarah, a mix of contempt and sympathy etched on her features. "What you never went through?"

Sarah had to wait on her retort, as she began coughing some more. "You think I…"

She couldn't finish her retort. She collapsed to her knees, and began retching. Vomit hit the ground. And blood.

What the hell is happening to me? She looked up at Sunglasses. "You fucking give me something other than a shotgun to knock me out?"

"No." She extended a hand, and gingerly, Sarah took it. She glanced aside as a shot was fired, and a bottle met its maker.

"Girl's making progress," she murmured.

Sunglasses nodded ahead. "Come on. He's meeting us here."

"Here," as it turned out, was a wooden bench, situated around a group of derelict caravans. Gingerly, her muscles aching, Sarah took a seat, while Sunglasses remained standing. She squinted, not so much from the sun, but as she looked at the top of the bench – something had been carved into it, but it was too faint to make out.

"Here they come."

Sarah squinted through the glare – approaching the area were a pair of quad bikes. Helmets and leather jackets covered the riders, and both had rucksacks over their shoulders. Both of them rolled up to the detritus they were standing in. Sarah watched as they both dismounted, and the first rider tossed his rucksack to the second.

"Load these up," he said.

These must be the other two from the 4WD. She looked at Sunglasses. "Weapons, right?"

She nodded.

"For times like this?"

"For all times."

"Right. So…this your hideout?"

"Is right now. Had some friends who used to live here, but that was before…well, before things changed." She nodded towards the factory. "Before that went up for instance. It's abandoned now though. Economy's still a bitch like that."

"Right…" Sarah watched as the first rider approached. He took off his helmet, revealing a man that Sarah guessed to be either late thirties or early forties. And instantly, Sarah felt an 'offness' about him. Not by virtue of having different plumbing from everyone else, but how…out of place he seemed.

"Hi," he said. He walked up towards Sunglasses. "Got the gear."

"Anyone see you?"

"No-one who looked twice, I can tell you that."

He was out of place because of the way he spoke. The way he carried himself. There was a strength there, Sarah could tell, but a gentleness also. Sunglasses, Grace, and she…they belonged in one world. It was as if this man belonged in the other.

"Anyway," the man said. "You said that…" He trailed off as his gaze lingered on Sarah, his eyes widening. "Holy shit."

"Yeah, that," Sunglasses said. She patted the man on the shoulder. "She doesn't know, by the way. So you tell her."

What don't I know?

"What doesn't she know?" the man asked, as Sunglasses walked away. "Hey."

She kept walking.

"Hey!"

Sunglasses turned around.

Seriously, what don't I know?

"This it?" the man asked. "Just, head off, do your own thing again?"

"I'll be with Carl," Sunglasses said, and she turned around again, heading in the same direction as the other quad bike rider. He'd taken his helmet off, but this far, and with his back to her, Sarah couldn't make out his features.

"Yeah," the man said. "Of course you will." He looked back at Sarah, who managed to get to her feet, but only by supporting her weight off the bench. She took a step towards the man, but stumbled.

"Here."

He caught her, and helped her back onto the seat.

"Thanks," Sarah murmured. She looked up at him, and he gave her a sad smile. She, in turn, squinted, and not just because of the sun. There was something familiar about him, yet also, something alien.

"She didn't tell you," the man murmured. He put his hands in his pockets and glanced round before snorting. "Figures. Of course she didn't."

"Tell me what?" Sarah whispered.

The man went to say something but a dog started barking. Sarah tensed up, and he must have seen her do so, because he said, "don't worry about it. The dog's only picking up Carl."

"Carl?"

"A protector," he said. "One of the cybernetic kind."

She gave him a frown. "A Terminator," she said.

"Yeah. That." His hands were still in his pockets, and he was still having trouble making eye contact with her.

"Must be nice, having three badasses," Sarah murmured. "Grace, this guy, Sarah…"

"You're a badass," the man murmured. Sarah looked up at him. "I mean, you were. Or, she was. I guess maybe you are as well, if you are from the past, or future, or something…" He rubbed his hand through his hair. Just like Sarah did, who again, found more hair coming out. The man's eyes changed, and where there had once been mirth, there was sadness.

"She didn't tell you," he said.

"She mostly questioned me," Sarah said.

"And you don't even know who I am."

Sarah looked at him. His face. His eyes. Even his body.

"I mean," he said. "It's funny. I spent years hating my mother, but after learning what she'd been through, after breaking her out, after my father, then…"

"John?" Sarah whispered.

He just stood there, and let Sarah get to her feet. Slowly, managing not to stumble. She looked up at the man in front of her.

"Is that you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Not as you know me, I guess, but…"

Sarah studied him. There was a bit of the John Connor she'd seen in her timeline. A bit of Kyle Reese as well. But in many ways, the differences outweighed the similarities. Because, she realized, this was a John Connor who had never grown up to lead the Resistance. Whose face was free of any scars, and his heart much more intact. This was a kinder John, born and raised in a kinder world.

"It's funny," he whispered. He took a photo out of his pocket. "You look just like her." He handed it to Sarah, and she stared.

It was her. Nineteen years old. A bandanna around her head, and a dog by her side. It was her, yet not. This was a Sarah Connor who'd survived a Terminator in Los Angeles and fled to a place like this, she reflected. Not a Sarah Connor who'd survived a Terminator at the age of nine, and had never gone so far south. This Sarah Connor was the mother of John Connor. And she…what was she to him?

She didn't know. But be it a mother's instinct, be it love, be it something else, she hugged him. Hugged him as tightly as only a mother could. And without hesitation, he put his arms round her and held her close as well.

"I know I'm not your mother," Sarah said. "But…"

"I get it," John said. "Trust me, you're much nicer than my mum is most of the time."

Sarah broke the embrace and began to laugh. "You've grown," she said.

He shrugged.

"Guess you…" She trailed off, as she began to cough.

"Sarah?"

"Fine," she said. "Just give me a second."

It didn't stop. The cough continued. Her head continued to pound. Nausea filled her stomach, she shivered, and blood landed on John's jacket as he caught her and helped her back into the seat.

"John," Sarah whispered. "What didn't your mother tell me?"

He glanced aside. "Might not be my place to say, but…"

"John. Please. I can take it."

"No. Really. I wasn't the one who found out."

"What?"

He stepped aside, and nodded to the man approaching him. Sarah stared.

"Pops?" she whispered.

The man kept walking, and in a second, Sarah knew it wasn't him.

It was a Terminator. T-800 Model 101. But it wasn't Pops. His face was the same. His walk was the same. But it wasn't her guardian. Her protector. The only father she'd had for years, who'd given his life to save her. It was a machine that bore his face, and no more than that. A machine that walked up to her before coming to a halt, towering above her, and even above John.

"Sarah Connor," it said.

Even the voice sounded different, she reflected. She looked at John. "Popular model," she murmured.

"He keeps coming," John murmured, and it was as if he was talking to himself rather than to her. "Same face. Same model. Over and over, as if we're always fated to meet him. Like the same actor always coming back to the stage." He looked past her. "Not that I believe in fate. And given what my mum wrote in this table, neither did she."

Sarah glanced at the carving. There were two words, but both had faded to the extent that she couldn't read it.

"Scans indicate that the girl's condition is worsening," the Terminator said.

Sarah blinked. "Condition?" She looked at John. "What condition?"

John's eyes were alight with sorrow. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"John?" she asked.

"It was already too late when we found you."

"John!" She grabbed his arm. "What's too late? What condition?"

"Radiation poisoning."

It was the Terminator who spoke. Slowly, Sarah let her grip go on John's arm, and she looked up into the machine's expressionless eyes.

"What?" she whispered.

"Radiation poisoning. Your body has absorbed abnormal levels of chronon radiation, most commonly associated with the time displacement technology developed by Skynet, and likewise utilized by Legion."

Sarah stumbled backward, sitting down on the bench. Like the Terminator's eyes, hers were expressionless.

"Common side effects include nausea, bleeding, hyper-tension, hair loss, diarrhea, and-"

"No," she whispered.

The Terminator stopped talking, but when she continued, she was looking at John. "That isn't possible."

"Sarah…"

"Kyle Reese travelled back in time. I've travelled forward in time." She shook her head. "No. That can't be it." She glared at the Terminator. "You're wrong, okay? Time travel doesn't kill you!"

"My scans are conclusive."

She got to her feet and shoved his chest. "Fuck you. I'm not sick, and I'm not dying, and…and I…"

She began to cough again. Blood. Lots of it.

"These are tell-tale symptoms."

Sarah waved a hand before collapsing back down on the bench. She shook her head, trying to steady her breathing. "It's…it's not possible…"

"Very possible, if the time displacement technology was in state of disrepair. Or if it was interfered with."

"But…" She trailed off.

She and Pops had cobbled their TDS from scratch. When she'd used it in 2018, it hadn't been used in over three decades. And then there'd been the T-5000. How it had been engulfed in the wave of energy it let out, and possibly had its core exposed to her in the process. And…and now she could barely think, because her heart was pounding, her stomach was heaving, and she was absolutely freezing, even as the sun blazed away in the sky.

"How…" She looked at the Terminator. "How bad is it?" she whispered.

"Terminal."

She slowly lowered her gaze. "Fair enough," she murmured.

"Sarah…" John reached out to her but she slapped his hand aside.

"So," she said. "Guess all I can do now is go along for the ride." She glanced at Daniella and Grace. "Been fighting longer than they have I bet. So, we deal with your Terminator, we stop Judgement Day, and-"

"This will not be possible for you," the Terminator said.

She looked up at him, and understood immediately. "How long?" she whispered.

The Terminator just stood there.

"How long?" she repeated, more forcefully this time.

"I do not understand."

"How long until I-"

"Hours," John whispered.

She looked at him, not feeling how tightly she was gripping the wood.

"At this rate, hours," John repeated.

Sarah opened her mouth…then chuckled.

"Sarah?"

She got to her feet and began walking towards Grace and Daniella. "Well," she said. "Guess that means there's even less time to waste." She coughed again, this time catching the blood on her hand. "I mean, since I'm not even in my own timeline, nothing I've done even matters anymore, so…"

"Sarah, it's alright."

She glanced back at John and winked. "Totally fine," she said. "I mean, far better way to go than a robot sent from the future who…who…"

Her vision. It was all blurry. Her head was pounding like a jackhammer. The sun was very, very bright.

"Sarah?"

She shook her head. "Just need…to go and…"

"Sarah, come on…"

Struggling to breathe, she said, "just because you're older than me, that doesn't mean you…that you…that I…"

She collapsed onto the dirt. Her head no longer pounding, but spinning.

"Sarah!"

Someone was calling for her.

"Damn it, get the others!"

She tried to raise an arm, but it had gone limp. Through her blurry vision, she could see someone grab it. Could see the faint outline of a face above her.

"Kyle?" she whispered.

She could just about feel the hand tighten against hers. The man above her was saying something. She could see him glance to the side, and through the corner of her eye, she could see people gathering around her.

"Don't leave me," she whispered. "Please, not again. Not again…"

Someone picked her up, but the grip on her hand didn't let go.

"Don't leave me…" She whispered. "Please, Kyle…don't leave me…"