Disclaimer: I of course…don't own any of The Terminator legend. The world and its characters belong to James Cameron and the Hollywood powers that be. I'm simply borrowing them for a while.
T4-Connor's War
Chapter 2
John had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he fought with impatience. "That makes no sense! They're machines right? Computers? We…we made them!" the woman screeched, hysterical. An artificial intelligence that had mutated into a state of self-awareness was a familiar concept to John. Practically commonplace in his world. But to them, it was inconceivable. His face bordered on pity, beholding this woman and her companions who had lived their sheltered lives, placing their trust in the engineers and programmers who had opened Pandora's Box.
"Try to understand," he said in low tones, in a voice so steadfast, he barely recognized it as his own. "The military was developing a highly advanced form of global communication. So advanced that it started to evolve all on its own. By the time they realized what had happened-"
"So it's the fucking army's fault?" one of the men cried, wincing as his outburst shifted the dressing on his wounded shoulder.
"This wasn't any one person's fault," he emphasized, his eyes meaningfully fixed on Kate as she entered the room to join them. The message was delivered for she nodded a silent thank you…though a part of Kate would always be burdened with the fact that it had been her father, Robert, responsible for activating Skynet. She attended the child crouched in the corner as John continued. "The point is, the machines have taken over. And they won't stop until they've destroyed every shred of humanity left on the planet. Every man is a threat to their existence-"
"Bullshit!" the same man shouted on the far cot. "Just what are you tryin' to pull huh?" John's eyes narrowed towards this man, but he did not respond. He was plastered with bandages, a huge gash running up his right arm and the beginnings of a scar across his cheek. In another life, the man might have been a successful athlete or Hollywood film star. Wheat-blonde hair, impressive build evident despite the dressings. But he looked no different from the rest of the flock around him. Battered, bruised and betrayed by something so seemingly intangible, he was forced into denial. "It was a terrorist attack!" he pounded his fists on the hard mattress, shouting to the others like a toddler determined to have his way. "Bastards in the middle east probably out drinkin' beer right now while we sit here listening to this fucking lunatic!"
"Hey!" Kate whirled on him from her place still beside the boy but John shook his head and she was obligingly quiet once more. No one else dared speak as John stepped forward, staring him down. "What's your name, friend?" he asked, his voice still low and unwavering.
"Kane," he spat, "Martin Kane." John looked at him for a long while, studying every line of his mangled face, learning the expressions, the fears of this man he knew he would eventually need to trust…as would they all. When he finally spoke, his words were far from menacing…but almost kind.
"Well Mr. Kane, I wish you were right…matter of fact, I pray to God that you are." He withdrew from a bewildered Kane and turned his attentions to the rest of the anxious group. "The only way to beat these machines is to survive them first and fight them later. You people are the first among a very few who have made it through the attack," he glanced back at Kane, "and there will be others." Kane crossed his arms, huffing as he lowered his head, but offered no more protests. "I know how difficult this must be to…digest. But know that we're on your side," he stole another look at Kate as he finished, "we're in this together."
* * *
The rest of the bunch seemed either too scared or too tired to fight, like Kane, what they all knew in their hearts was the truth. With mild gratitude for the rescue and shelter, they each retired to the quarters prepared in shallower levels of the compound. John was careful to learn every name and history.
There were six in all, five of whom were found at Mercury Tech. The two who initially made contact with their facility's radio were Jo and Michael Kinsella, a brother and sister research team who had stayed passed working hours to finish a series of trials they called the Gemini Project. They had taken in Rico Ferrari, an 18 year-old convenience store clerk, and the vacationing Dr. Luke Mitchell from San Francisco, who together, traveled nearly 3 weeks from Ferrari's tiny market basement in what was left of Colorado Springs. Kane stumbled across Mercury Tech not long after Rico and Luke arrived just as his battered Ford pick-up ran out of gas. The last of the group was a boy of about 12 or 13…who refused to say a word. Kate had found him not far from the lab in the cellar of what she assumed was an old apartment building.
By the end of the night, John found himself staring at the surveillance monitors in Operations…a sad substitute for the comfort of an open window. He was prepared for Kane's reaction today and to be honest, expected more from the others. Nevertheless, it strained his confidence. His will to see destiny through.
In fact, he was so drained, his guard let down, that he nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry," a soft voice mumbled as Kate came from behind and pulled up a chair, her hand still on his arm. Instinctively, John grasped for it, lacing his fingers through hers and held it to his knee. They sat for a long while, listening to the whir of the generators powering the compound as John took in the feel of her hand…drank in her presence. There was no need for words and in the end, it was Kate who spoke again. "You did well today."
"So did you," his answer. Almost automatic. As if he'd been waiting all day to tell her so. "Really I…you made good time," his words fumbled along, his eyes still fixed on their clasped hands. Kate smiled. It seemed all he could offer for the moment. It was enough.
"I tried again with the boy." John looked up and she sadly shook her head. "Can't say I'm surprised. Someone so young." She looked down, "makes you almost wish…" she trailed off, her voice ashamed. But John squeezed her hand hard with understanding.
"…that he had just died," he finished in a whisper. Kate's shoulders hitched as she choked back a sob. A single tear trailed down her cheek and John found himself longing to reach forward and brush it away…but he let it fall.