The car stumbled down a dusty, country lane. Still the truck cab chased, but it was getting further off. Neo lay sprawled on the back seat. The last thing he remembered, The Terminator had been stitching up his chest.
"Where are we going?"
"We are heading south."
"Are you...are you The Terminator?"
"I am a Terminator T-800."
"Aren't you trying to kill me?"
"A Terminator T-300 cyborg is trying to kill you."
"Can you stop it?"
"I can stop it, but it is not in my mission objectives."
"What are your mission objectives?"
"Protect Thomas Anderson, aka Neo, at all costs."
"Listen. I'm Thomas Anderson, and I say I would be safer if you destroyed that Terminator."
The T-800 still carrried on driving.
"Kill that Terminator now!"
The car suddenly swerved to a halt. The Terminator climbed out of the car door and waited for the truck.
"What are you doing?" Asked a puzzled Neo, stepping out of the car.
"I am killing the Terminator T-300 cyborg, as you told me to."
"You do what I say?"
"Affirmative."
"Why?"
"It is for your protection. Get back into the car."
"No. I don't have to do what you say."
"Okay, stay out of the car, but it is for your own safety."
Neo hesitantly got back into the car. The truck was now coming up to the Terminator T-800, who stood in the middle of the road, waiting. The T-300 did not slow down, and the truck hit the T-800's hard metal body, sending it flying off into a cornfield. Smoke billowed out of the truck. Still, however, the Terminator T-300's skeletal casing climbed out from the wreckage, skin all melted off. It stared into the eyes of the T-800 for a moment, then went to get its shotgun from inside the truck cab. The Terminator T-800 reached for its Desert Eagle from underneath its jacket. The T-300 fired its shotgun at the T-800, who continued towards him, unscathed by the otherwise-deadly bullet wound in its chest. The T-300 fired into the T-800 again, and again nothing happened. The T-800 raised its Desert Eagle and fired three rounds off into the T-300's face, before picking it uop, throwing it down, and shooting it in its back twice more. A lock came undone on its back, and the T-800 opened up its casing, ripping out wires, chips and circuit-boards. The T-800 then strode back to the car, triumphantly.
"Whoa," gaped Neo, "How d'you do that?"
"A major design flaw. Supposedly as easy access for the programmers, the T-300's casing comes open easily."
"Does yours?"
"No. The T-300 is a lesser model than me."
"Where are we going?"
"We are heading south."
"Are you...are you The Terminator?"
"I am a Terminator T-800."
"Aren't you trying to kill me?"
"A Terminator T-300 cyborg is trying to kill you."
"Can you stop it?"
"I can stop it, but it is not in my mission objectives."
"What are your mission objectives?"
"Protect Thomas Anderson, aka Neo, at all costs."
"Listen. I'm Thomas Anderson, and I say I would be safer if you destroyed that Terminator."
The T-800 still carrried on driving.
"Kill that Terminator now!"
The car suddenly swerved to a halt. The Terminator climbed out of the car door and waited for the truck.
"What are you doing?" Asked a puzzled Neo, stepping out of the car.
"I am killing the Terminator T-300 cyborg, as you told me to."
"You do what I say?"
"Affirmative."
"Why?"
"It is for your protection. Get back into the car."
"No. I don't have to do what you say."
"Okay, stay out of the car, but it is for your own safety."
Neo hesitantly got back into the car. The truck was now coming up to the Terminator T-800, who stood in the middle of the road, waiting. The T-300 did not slow down, and the truck hit the T-800's hard metal body, sending it flying off into a cornfield. Smoke billowed out of the truck. Still, however, the Terminator T-300's skeletal casing climbed out from the wreckage, skin all melted off. It stared into the eyes of the T-800 for a moment, then went to get its shotgun from inside the truck cab. The Terminator T-800 reached for its Desert Eagle from underneath its jacket. The T-300 fired its shotgun at the T-800, who continued towards him, unscathed by the otherwise-deadly bullet wound in its chest. The T-300 fired into the T-800 again, and again nothing happened. The T-800 raised its Desert Eagle and fired three rounds off into the T-300's face, before picking it uop, throwing it down, and shooting it in its back twice more. A lock came undone on its back, and the T-800 opened up its casing, ripping out wires, chips and circuit-boards. The T-800 then strode back to the car, triumphantly.
"Whoa," gaped Neo, "How d'you do that?"
"A major design flaw. Supposedly as easy access for the programmers, the T-300's casing comes open easily."
"Does yours?"
"No. The T-300 is a lesser model than me."