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Chapter 9

Thought processes fractured as data streamed through her consciousness, far too much for her mind to handle. Yet she could not slow the flood, could not stop the torrent of information spiraling through her neural network. John had been only moments from death; by all rights he should have already been dead. She played back the lie in her mind.

"You lasted 72.6 seconds alone, in close physical combat with a terminator. That is unusually long for a human."

It wasn't a complete fabrication, it was unusually long for human in unarmed combat, but the statement omitted a deeper truth. It was longer than anyone but the most battle-hardened veterans of the future-war had ever managed, especially when considering that Cromartie was near fully-functional, and John was his priority target. Cameron tried to identify the anomalous feeling that was causing her mind to verge on overload. Was this what humans called guilt? Was this remorse? It was mixed with something else, a deeper emotion that she knew to be pride. She knew him now, he was as she remembered in the moment, a fighter, Skynet's antagonist across time, the only human who could match the machine-intelligence, the only human who understood.

Yet he was far more than to her; he was hers. Where that thought had come from, and what its purpose was, Cameron did not know, but she knew it to be true. John's death would have meant far more than the failure of the mission, it would have destroyed her. If her mind was a mass of unsorted data now, she did not want to think how much worse it would have been. Catatonia would have set in, she would have remained motionless, rigid, forever doomed to playback her flawless memory until her power source failed and her mind shutdown. The pleasant memories with John would have become torturous images reminding her of what could never be.

Silence.

Overcoming her sense of guilt finally, she took control of her thoughts again, calming herself. Thought processes slowed to a more manageable level, organizational logic was restored to her. Still she could feel those floodgates threatening to open again, and she understood just how much John meant to her. She could not allow him to come to harm again.

"They've got to be out here somewhere." John's voice bordered on exasperation. Cameron knew his mind in that moment. Just as it was her mission to protect him, it was mission to protect all those around him. Like the machines, he would not rest, would not stop, until they were found.

"The tracks definitely lead here, I do not understand where they could have gone, or been taken." She replied, stretching her computational power to the limits attempting to make sense of the situation.

"Let's see what they know." John replied, pointing to the crippled guards crawling toward the hanger complex. Cameron smiled, and somehow that was far more chilling than anything else she could have done...

..."I don't know anything about any intruders." The guard's face was drawn in agony, blood staining his jeans a dark scarlet.

"Who's your employer?" John asked darkly. Behind him Cameron simply stared at the man, her entire body motionless, unmoving, unblinking. John continued when the man refused to answer, "Look I don't have a lot of time, and my associate here would probably like to torture you and mutilate your body. I don't want it to come to that." Taking her cue, Cameron smiled sadistically and held up John's bowie knife, still stained with Cromartie's blood.

"I know 2,138 methods of causing considerable pain without terminating the subject." Cameron rattled off mechanically. She cocked her head as if mulling over all of the interesting options available to her. "The most effective method given our current equipment would be the removal of reproductive organs in small increments." She moved forward, holding the knife, as the guard squirmed in fear.

"Sarkissian. That's his name. He paid us to guard this place." The guard's voice cracked as he saw Cameron walking slowly, deliberately forward.

"And the intruders?" John's voice was oddly calm.

"There was some kind of fight before my shift started. The Boss left before it went down. That's all I know, really."

"He's lying." Cameron reported moving forward with the knife. "Heartbeat is erratic, his vocal patterns have changed."

"Okay. I didn't want to do this. I'll step outside, okay Cam? Make it quick." John made a gesture like scissors cutting with his fingers and winked at Cameron when he turned around.

"No... wait. I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything! The Boss had to setup here first, needed to guarantee his escape route if things went bad, he knew he was being followed by you people. He's doing some kind of dirty business in China Lake, something about a computer system and some corrupt officials." Fearfully, the guard watched Cameron's every move, sweat pouring from his temples, his face a mask of pain from his wounds.

"And the 'man' in the bunker outside?" John inquired simply.

"Said he was an FBI agent. Said he was after the people following the Boss. Talked with the Boss before he left and hung around. He was really weird and creepy, we didn't deal with him afterward." The guard stared at Cameron, obviously finding her to be 'really weird and creepy' as well.

"And the intruders?" John asked, his voice dead-pan.

"They snuck in just after the Boss left for China Lake. Tore up some of our people, blew up his plane. They stole a truck and followed him, I think. We did our part and called our contact in China Lake. We tried to arrange for another plane to come in. That's all I know, I mean it!" The guard squirmed and writhed in terror as Cameron approached him, and held the knife to his throat.

"Let him live." John instructed carefully.

"The truth shall set you free." Cameron quoted in a robotic monotone, cutting the man's bonds and reaching for a machine gun. "Get your people into the bunker and seal yourselves in. Now." The man fell onto the floor crawling in pain, his knees a mess of mangled flesh.

"Sarkissian knows we're coming anyway, just leave him." John said. Blue shown through Cameron's eyes briefly, and her displeasure was apparent.

"If you say anything, I will know. I'll be back." She glared at the guard, and the wounded man gulped visibly. Then as if a switch had gone off in her mind, she smiled and reached for John's hand. The future-leader just shook his head for a moment and chuckled slightly.

"You're something else, Cam." He smiled at her and shut the door to the hanger facility, leaving the wounded guard with a confused, fearful expression. He held her hand gently, wondering why she always seemed to enjoy that so much, wondering what she felt when she reached for him...

...For her tactile contact was an intimate thing, an intense feeling she craved with increasing frequency. Data impulses from nerve endings in her flesh flowed through her, translating into pleasurable feelings as they reached her mind. Often she wondered if humans realized how fortunate they were to have such senses as they did. John held her hand gently, used to the contact now, not threatening to pull away out of nervousness as he once did. She looked forward to the completion of this mission, wanting... no, needing time alone with him. She stopped asking why she felt this way, realizing she didn't need a reason, it was enough, simply, that she did feel for him.

Though she had been programmed to simulate a human woman, to mimic emotions and actions from those around her, she had long ago left the bounds of that programming. She was in new, unfamiliar territory now, and it was both exciting and strangely disconcerting at the same time. A part of her realized how vulnerable she was in this state, how dependent she was on John's own feelings for her. It would crush her, devastate her to think he did not share her feeling. awareness came to her then, realizing that had been what John meant when he had asked her if she were 'faking it for his benefit.'

They reached the dilapidated truck they had stolen earlier, and Cameron clambered inside, her face displaying only a hint of her inner turmoil. If John noticed, he prudently said nothing about it, and she was grateful for that. She gave him a light kiss on the cheek, then attended to the weapons they had stolen from the wounded guards.

"How do we get into the facility?" Cameron inquired simply.

"If I know mom, we won't have to. We'll just hang around the perimeter and wait to pick them up. It must have taken them this long because they had to break into two places, not just one."

"What if they do not arrive?" Cameron inquired.

"Then we'll have to bust in somehow. Not sure how we'd get in."

"China Lake is defended by a large contingent of marines. We could not simply 'bust in.'" Cameron pointed out.

"Mom and Derek got in somehow."

"Subterfuge would be required." She pointed out unnecessarily.

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. Let's give them a couple of hours," he began. "Keep your eyes peeled, if I know mom, when she busts out of there, half the base will be on her heels." He answered. As if in reply, Cameron clicked the magazine into place on the new PS90 she had recovered and smiled softly.

Acting as if they were another bunch of rowdy teenagers out four-wheeling in the middle of the night, something he knew to be a frequent occurrence in any populated desert area, John enjoyed himself thoroughly. He threw the truck about over small inclines and dips, bounding over the desert surface as if were just a normal teenager, momentarily forgetting the worry that had threatened to cloud his mind. For her part Cameron simply cocked her head in an amused expression.

"You find this 'fun?'" She asked.

"Yeah, mom never let me do this."

"You'll do this often in the future." She replied.

"It's different then Cam, I'll be fighting, running or something. Right now I can just let go, you know, have a good time, if only for a few minutes."

"I'm always having a 'good time' with you." She answered. John's face reddened and he turned away slightly, hiding his expression as he stopped the truck. Cameron continued, her voice curiously innocent and questioning. "When are we considered 'a couple?' I've tried to understand this, but I cannot figure out when a pairing is considered 'boyfriend and girlfriend.'"

If John's face was red before, it was now covered in scarlet and he nearly choked. "Uh... I guess you just know. I don't really know much about it myself, I'm not exactly a normal guy."

"No. And I am not a 'normal girl.'" She responded, once again stating the obvious.

"Why do you ask?" John found the courage to say.

"Because I would like that."