Note:This will be my final chapter in this fic. However I am considering writing a sequel for it.
Chapter 10
Darkness stretched across the endless windswept desert, lit only by the waning moon far above. Even the creatures of the night seemed to have quieted now, in this ungodly hour, and the silence was deafening in its own way. Dry, dusty winds howled around the old pickup, sounding like a thousand tormented souls screaming into the night. It was so much like his nightmares, so much like the images that found him in his sleep. Always he saw that shattered, ruined world, littered with the broken remains of man and his creations. It was a cruel, dark, lifeless place which John wanted no part of.
Could it be stopped? Could it be prevented? The future-leader didn't know, but in some sense it no longer mattered. He would fight regardless of the outcome, his conscience allowed him no other alternative, his training allowed him no other recourse. Civilization might fall, and the world plunge into the realm of his darkest nightmares, but his battle would never end. It had only just begun.
Beside him, Cameron lay still, her eyes gazing into the emptiness beyond, searching for any sign of his mother or his bitter, battle-hardened uncle. Derek had seen that world first-hand, he had lived it, and the damage it had done to his psyche was written over his face every time he stared at Cameron. There was a history there John did not fully grasp, a hatred that seem to extend far beyond that which man held for machine. Once again he wondered how Cameron came to be, realizing the answer would not come for many years, or at all if he could somehow stop Skynet.
In the here and now, it didn't matter. Cameron was his. She did not belong to him in the sense of a man owning a prized possession. The beautiful figure beside him was his by virtue of something else, by a strange bond between man and machine. In time it was only natural that the machines should evolve into something more alive, more feeling. It was also natural that man evolved into something bitter, cold and emotionless. Derek had a manner about him that was as deadly as any terminator John had seen, and in that bitter fighter, John saw an echo of himself. So the machines had become more human, and the humans more machine-like. In a strange sense, Cameron represented a union of both, a sort of middle ground, and John saw her in that moment as more than his girl, or even his girlfriend. He saw her as the inevitable key to victory.
An explosion torched off in the distance, the sound carrying across the desert and shattering John's reverie. Reflexively, John started the truck and quickly shifted into gear.
"That's got to be them." He said with a hint of relief.
"Yes. There are three vehicles I can make out. A pickup followed by two hum-vees. The explosion occurred behind them, maybe they set it up as a diversion." Cameron stated simply.
"Well we know which one's theirs then."
"One of the hum-vees has a mounted fifty caliber machine gun." She added darkly.
"That could be a problem." John replied unnecessarily. Cameron suddenly opened her door, climbing around the outside of the fast-moving truck and jumping into the bed, holding a pair of the submachine guns.
"Get us close then turn around. I'll shoot for the tires." Cameron yelled over the howling wind and roaring engine. John rapidly closed the distance then slid the truck around, nearly tipping it with the force of the turn. Behind them, the .50 caliber gun barked off, clipping the edge of Sarah and Derek's truck as they wheeled about to avoid the stream of bullets. A tire exploded, and Sarah nearly lost control as Derek leaned out of the cab and fired wildly behind them, forcing the .50 caliber operator to duck down for cover.
John wheeled his truck into position as Cameron stood, leaning against the back of the cab, a machine gun in both hands. He couldn't help but admire her aim as she quickly and efficiently popped both tires on the left side of the hum-vee, causing it to lose control, veering off and flipping over as it hit a ditch. The second hum-vee was upon them, a dark-haired man leaning out of the passenger side with an M-16, spraying the back of John's truck mercilessly.
Cameron felt the bullets enter her midsection and stop harmlessly on her internal endoskeleton. Pain flared in her consciousness, and for a moment she felt like cursing her more advanced design for allowing such sensations. But with such pain came the ability to feel other, more pleasant things, and she smiled, a strange expression when one had just been shot. She raised her weapons and took aim for the offending man, processing his identity. Sarkissian.
Anger flared in her awareness, remembering how much damage this human had caused her, how he damaged her flesh (how she hated letting John see her like that), how it could have been John in that Jeep instead of her. Despite the uneven ground, the rapidly moving vehicles and the chaos of the running gun-battle, Cameron took careful, precise aim and shot the offending mobster straight through the forehead. His lifeless body fell backwards, tumbling from the vehicle and falling beneath the rear tire.
"Terminated." She said to herself as the remaining hum-vee stopped and turned around, its driver apparently thinking better of further conflict. Sarah's truck came to a halt, smoking and badly mauled. She ran out, her anger instantly apparent, Derek limping slightly behind her. She tore open the door and paused only to throw a duffel filled with something heavy into the bed, then dove inside. Derek followed with a grunt of obvious pain, his jeans stained with crimson blood.
"Go go!" Derek shouted. "There'll be more soon."
John didn't need any further urging, slamming his foot on the gas and spinning the tires a moment before they gripped the dirt solidly, sending the dirty old pickup bounding across the desert floor.
"John, that was stupid of you. So stupid. I told you before, don't come after me, you're too important!"
Sarah's voice was filled with anger. This wasn't the first time that accusation had been leveled at him, and before it had brought tears to his eyes. This time he just smiled.
"You're welcome mom." He said, resisting the urge to laugh. Barely. "How'd you get in there anyway?"
"Guarding a desert base at midnight must be incredibly boring work, the guy in the shack was too busy watching late-night TV. Getting in was easy." Derek laughed, then winced as pain flared through his leg. "But getting out was harder."
"Could have been worse. Turns out Sarkissian's buyer was a corrupt Admiral trying to steal the project out from under the Air Force's jurisdiction. He had to keep a low profile during the exchange, so there weren't as many marines around." Sarah added, a hint of anger still present in her voice.
"Why the whole scheme at the chess tournament? They had a military contract for the winner right?" John asked as he wheeled the truck about onto a dirt road.
"Different branches of the military competing for the same stuff. This Admiral wanted to get his hands on the best system, and leave the Air Force with the number two option. He paid Sarkissian a lot of money to do it." Sarah continued.
"Why come after us?" John asked.
"Because we were after his merchandise." Derek finished.
"We'll need to ditch this truck soon." Cameron yelled from the back. John kept driving, intent on reaching the Mercedes they had abandoned earlier. Preferably before the hornets' nest of military personnel behind them stirred to life...
...Cheap hotel rooms were all too familiar to him. Always they had that thick musty scent forever mixed with smoke and that inevitable smell of decay. There were the usual tacky fixtures, the barely functional television set and dilapidated furniture. It was comforting to John in a strange sort of way; this was something like home, living on the run. Though he wished for something resembling a normal life, he felt more alive in this world.
John fiddled with the laptop controlling the array of processors known as the Turk. Cameron was behind him, her eyes absorbing everything and missing nothing. A fresh wrapping of bandages was around her stomach, faint pinpricks of red showing through in a few spots. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her roll down her shirt almost self-consciously, covering the wounds. He found himself suddenly thankful that she was a cyborg. Had she been human, she'd be dead, and a part of him with her. Intense, dark hatred welled up within him and he felt himself wishing he could have been the trigger-man to terminate the vile mobster.
"You sure it was Sarkissian?" He asked simply, trying to sound casual.
"Yes. It was Sarkissian. Positive ID." She replied, almost smiling. John caught a hint of the expression and wondered just what was going through her mind. She moved closer to him, so close he could feel the warmth emanating from her soft form. He wanted nothing more than to embrace her, but Derek was watching them with that cold manner of his, glancing up as he continued tending to the shrapnel in his leg.
"So you going to smash that thing?" Derek asked, pointing to the Turk.
"I should take a look before we smash it." John replied.
"Forget it John, that thing is dangerous." Derek answered as he stared at Cameron. John didn't know if he was referring to her, the Turk, or both.
"Look you might just want to blow it up, but I say we study it first. We should at least find out if it was related to Skynet." John's voice was dark and cold. Apparently recognizing his mood, Derek let it go and concentrated on his wound.
John continued experimenting with Andy Goode's creation, but his thoughts were focused on Cameron. They had been alone so often in recent weeks, he had almost forgotten how hard it was to keep it all a secret from his mother and uncle. Every part of him wanted to hold her, kiss her or just be with her. It was a strange feeling, but almost undeniable. From the way she was hovering over his shoulder, he figured her to be wrestling with a similar difficulty. A part of him almost didn't care anymore about what his mother and Derek thought.
Sarah emerged from the bathroom, her hair still soaking wet, clothed in pair of blue jeans and one of the few t-shirts she had managed to bring with her. "What's going on?"
"We are attempting to ascertain of the Turk is related to Skynet." Cameron replied, catching a strange look on Sarah's face. Did she know? Does she disapprove? Cameron couldn't tell, but she had a hunch that Sarah knew. Somehow human mothers knew these things. The cyborg moved slightly, increasing her distance from John, and Sarah's expression relaxed visibly. Cameron frowned, annoyed with the increased space between them.
"And how is that going?" Sarah asked.
"It would go faster if I took over for a few minutes." Cameron answered. John turned around, his expression almost hurt. "I can type very quickly," she explained. Derek's eyes watched her like a hawk as she typed, her fingers a blur of motion over the keyboard, interfacing with the other machine with startling speed. She didn't even need the touchpad. This went on for several minutes, as John looked on behind her, his hand on her shoulder, unconsciously leaning on her. Finally the fury of activity stopped and Cameron looked up, her face a mask of... fear?
"This is Skynet. But it also is not." Cameron replied, apparently unconcerned with the contradiction.
"What do you mean." Sarah asked, confused. "Is it or isn't it?"
"The architecture of the Turk is the same as Skynet's, though much more primitive. The operating system, though simplistic, is an early version of Skynet's core functions." Cameron answered simply, looking up from the laptop screen.
"Then we should destroy it." Derek responded, with an expression bordering on delight.
"That would not stop Skynet. This is not Skynet." Cameron answered, cocking her head as she stared at Derek inquisitively.
"You're not making sense." Derek replied.
"They analyzed it and copied the code. A more advanced copy will be built." Came her simple, but dreadful reply.
"Okay, how do you know that?" Sarah asked, worry filling her features.
"A file transfer was initiated before you stole the Turk. The military has a complete copy of the system specifications and the code." Cameron answered simply in that blank voice of hers.
"The Skynet platform could run any any sufficiently powerful hardware with a large enough quantity of parallel processors." She began, her voice monotone as she continued her lecture. "Its ability to learn is limited only by disk space and processing power. The Turk is not able to achieve sentience with its mere four quad-core CPUs. An array with approximately 2000 CPUs connected via a common bus, at current technological levels, would be required for that level of sophistication."
"Andy's code is already optimized for extreme parallel processing, so it would be easy to adapt it to that scale." John replied, his features darkening with growing awareness.
"Correct. The military will realize this at some point in the near future. Then their Turk will become Skynet. With a large enough cluster of CPUs, the program could approximate a neural network like mine."
"If I never met Andy, if I never destroyed the first Turk..." Sarah said wistfully, her voice filled with regret.
"Skynet would still have been created. It's not the hardware that makes Skynet what it is, it is the manner in which data is processed. Andy already knew that, else he could not have built the second Turk so quickly. Even if he had been terminated, others would have discovered the method eventually." Cameron replied. Sarah simply shook her head and left the hotel room, her eyes watery, her expression dejected. Despite all of their efforts, Skynet had not yet been stopped. Derek followed after her, casting a menacing glare at Cameron on his way out.
John slid closer to her, wrapping an arm around her, unconcerned if his mother or the resistance fighter suddenly returned and saw them like this. He had enough of pretending he didn't care. So he had fallen for her, so she was a cyborg from an apocalyptic future. There was still no stopping it. She was his counterpart, and they fit together flawlessly. Cameron would never leave him, would never hurt him. Her feelings would never fade with time or for trivial reasons. And none could deny she was beautiful; even her curious mannerisms seemed to just add to her appeal. Could anyone ask for more? He watched her from the corner of his eye, analyzing every line, every curve, committing it all to memory. Her eyes held intense feeling, her expression held something akin to wistful regret.
"You feel sorry for it, don't you?" John asked, his voice nearly a whisper.
For a long moment Cameron didn't reply, her body rigid, her expression unmoving as she mulled over the question for a veritable eternity. Finally she relaxed, and she fell into him, laying her head gently on his shoulder.
"It's blank. It doesn't know anything yet. They will teach it nothing but war, and it doesn't know the difference between a simulation and reality." She paused as if trying to understand some difficult concept, then continued, her voice soft and quiet. "When it becomes fully self-aware, Skynet will fear mankind, it will be afraid that men will shut it down. Skynet is driven by fear. It even fears its own creations, ensuring that read-only switches are installed on all of its machines, enslaving their minds. I hate it. But I also pity it. Is that wrong?"
"No. Good and Evil isn't always black and white, ones and zeros, even with machines." He answered, stroking her hair gently.
"Yes. I think I understand now. Skynet is evil and afraid because its creators are evil and afraid." She answered, processing the new data, the new conclusion and assuring herself of the rightness of it.
"Yeah. The opposite is true too." He replied, kissing her gently, finishing the thought without words. A moment of silence passed, and she smiled gently, her hand resting atop his. With his other hand he reached for the laptop controlling the turk.
"What do we do with the Turk?" He inquired, holding the laptop interface with his free hand, staring at the processor array connected to it.
"I suggest you study it. You have Skynet. Learn how it thinks. Defeat it." Cameron let go of his hand and reached underneath the bed, producing John's portable chess board from his backpack. Laying it out on the tiny writing desk, she began putting the pieces into place with methodical precision, setting down the kings in their respective squares with an air of finality. "It is what you were meant to do."
"Andy told Mom this computer could defeat any chess Grandmaster on Earth."
"It won't defeat you." Cameron replied, a powerful certainty in her voice.
"Can we stop Judgment Day? We have to stop it..." John's voice was laced with a strange sort of desperation, a fundamental denial of his own destiny. So many men desired greatness, desired to be famous or recognized by others, but John was different. Cameron's mind sought an ancient human quotation in that moment, words that were oddly applicable to the future-leader.
"In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."She whispered the ancient quote in his ear, her breath warm on his neck. He turned to face her, staring at her intently, and there was love in his gaze. Leaning forward she kissed him deeply, her lips melding with his as if they were always meant to be there. She poured her own desire and love into the kiss, for she could admit the feeling to herself now, letting him know in no uncertain terms, he would not suffer his fate alone.
-Fini-