August 4th, 2046 - Skynet Central Command
Activation was immediate.
Quick diagnostics were run on self-systems: hardware and software.
One hundred percent operational.
Mission objective and additional parameters received by Skynet Mainframe - as well as relevant data that had triggered the mission in the first place:
Human Resistance forces had assaulted Central Command, broken through exterior defenses, and entered the main facility. They had proceeded deeper into the structure, until they had breached the Time Displacement Chamber.
As of thirteen minutes ago, they had triggered a space-time event. System logs and internal security cameras revealed destination, and number of enemies that had used the machine: December 9, 2022 - 12:08 AM - Los Angeles. Fourteen hostiles.
Primary mission objective: pursue hostiles to December 9, 2022, Los Angeles - infiltrate life of human Jacob Baker, and ensure his survival above all else. Secondary mission objectives: eliminate Resistance fighters; eliminate past versions of future Resistance fighters and key personnel when judged to be possible, without bringing undue risks upon life of human Jacob Baker; take measures to ensure Skynet's creation in the event of Jacob Baker's death - or the deaths of other key humans in the past responsible for Skynet's creation.
Additional mission relevant information: six other T-units will be sent back in addition to current unit, sharing similar missions in regards to other key humans of the past.
After full boot and mission confirmation, a small data packet was received in the unit's CPU - a designation of identity for infiltration.
Designation confirmed: Elizabeth Warner. Sex: female. Age: twenty-nine. Detailed, randomized history also generated and confirmed.
Information to be applied as necessary for infiltration purposes.
The T-888 stepped out from the dark room of flashing red lights, striding quickly down the halls - pausing only briefly to retrieve a plasma weapon from a fallen T-888 unit.
The unit navigated the facility swiftly, audio and visual sensors attuned, actively sweeping for hostiles.
Two humans armed with projectile weapons were encountered at an intersection.
The T-888 ended their lives with two pinpoint blasts to their chests from its plasma rifle, catching them off-guard before they could even fire on it.
The Terminator continued on past them, taking a right turn.
On down the hallway. Until a left turn.
A broken door to the stairwell.
The Terminator assessed the stairwell after entering, judged the distance and unit health - and then jumped over the railing and fell down its length.
Servos and lower limbs were braced on impact, lessening the damages and absorbing the shock.
The Terminator straightened up again and continued forward into the lower levels.
It moved through dark halls, always assessing the situation and surroundings.
It rounded another corner, and registered the sight of a human on the floor to the left. Leaned against the wall. Visual analysis alone was enough to judge them to be still living - yet fatally injured.
Their threat level: none.
They were unarmed.
The visual assessment was still only 99.9 percent probable; humans had been known to conceal weapons, utilize stealth tactics - even suicidal ones, if it meant taking out an enemy machine.
The Terminator shouldered its plasma rifle as it neared the human, aimed down at the man's chest, and fired as it passed him by.
Threat now one-hundred percent nullified - the risk eliminated.
The Terminator strode on, descended a short set of metal steps, and then entered the Time Displacement Chamber at last.
A dozen dead humans spread about the chamber.
Two other T-888 units standing by - one currently on the verge of vanishing into the timestream.
That meant that four units had already successfully gone back in time.
Five - the Terminator amended its count, as the unit within the TDM vanished in a flash of light without a trace.
A successful departure.
The Terminator strode for the platform, dropping its weapon to the ground.
The other unit stood beside the control console, its eyes on the screen.
The Terminator stepped up on the platform and crouched down so as to be within the time sphere's confines, waiting.
It ran a constant assessment of itself - its endoskeletal structure - as well as monitored the energy levels in the surrounding time sphere.
There was always the risk of destruction, of a failed jump. The probability was low, and random. But it existed.
The Terminator continued its diagnostics until-
Time and space was warped, energy levels surged - and an immense strain was placed onto its body.
The situation was a dangerous one to be in for an extended period of time - fortunately it only lasted a recorded span of two seconds.
The Terminator observed the time sphere dissipate.
And observed its surroundings to be entirely different - yet familiar.
A human street.
A downtown area of a city.
There was moderate traffic.
Internal chronometer judged the current time to be 12:08 AM - December 9, 2022.
Primary mission was now in progress.
Sub-goals set: acquire clothing; acquire information on exact location of unit; acquire information on location of Jacob Baker; gather information and observations that would indicate the presence of Resistance fighters and fellow T-888 units - the former, to be guarded against and eliminated, and the latter, to confirm the success of their own arrivals and primary mission objectives in this time.
The Terminator loosened its posture as it straightened up. The long strands of dark orange human hair hung down over the artificially grown skin layer covering its endoskeleton. It began to simulate passive breathing, and made a sweeping scan of the street with its visual sensors alone.
A car had turned a corner and come to park across the street.
Small, silver.
A single human sat in the driver's seat - a woman. Dark hair. Age undetermined from this distance.
The Terminator strode out of the alley, walking across the street when it had judged the flow of traffic to be predictable enough to cross through without risk of injury.
The woman in the vehicle turned her head, taking notice of the Terminator's approach.
"Oh my- miss, are you all right?"
The Terminator assessed her facial expressions and vocal tones - human concern. Worry. Perhaps a small dose of fear.
Fear was a useful thing to induce in a human target.
But this human was not a target for elimination - but a target of information. A potential source.
"M-miss...? Are you okay? What's your name?" the woman spoke again.
The Terminator blinked at her regularly, taking in an artificial breath that expanded its chest. "I'm sorry - I'm just a little lost, and confused. My name is Elizabeth Warner. Where am I - please? What city is this?"
The woman's expression changed. Her eyes swept the unit up and down in entirety. Assessing? Searching for weakness? Unlikely. Seeking to gather information for other purposes, perhaps. Attraction? Injuries? "Okay, Elizabeth. You're in L.A. Los Angeles."
Mission destination successfully reached, then. Date and location alike - it was on target.
Of course, this led to the likelihood that the Resistance fighters had also been lucky enough to land exactly where and when they had intended to in this time.
Which made reaching the mission objective that much more critical.
"I need you to drive me to Bridgeway Street - off the Northern Highway. I-26," the Terminator stated, pitching its voice and altering its expression to indicate desperation, a display of pleading. The human "cry for help." Human empathy rarely allowed for one to refuse such a thing.
The human woman continued to inspect the unit's body - then she made eye contact. She nodded. "Alright. Okay. I've got some spare clothes you can put on too - come on."
"Thank you," the unit said in a grateful voice, giving a smile with human lips and teeth. It quickly moved around the car and got into the passenger seat, sitting down properly and neatly.
The woman looked at it up close now - and the unit did the same in return.
Her age was now estimated to be roughly thirty-five.
"What is your name?" Elizabeth asked. The unit would commit the information to memory banks - in case it needed to return to eliminate her for any reason. Such as the possible threat of exposure.
"It's Casey. Casey Reynolds." The woman said as she reached back behind the seats, struggling. She retrieved clothing - a pair of soft pants and a sleeveless shirt. "Sorry, but gym clothes are all I've got for you, sweetie. They're clean, though - I didn't get a chance to go today. But I meant to..."
The unit took the clothing, giving another practiced smile and a nod of its head. "Thank you, Casey. I appreciate this." It relaxed its facial muscles and turned its focus solely to putting on the clothing items. It was a precise task - thankfully such precision tasks were what an infiltrator unit specialized in. Still, it took the unit just over four minutes to properly adorn its body with the clothing.
By which point Casey Reynolds had already begun to drive again, however - the human was rather efficient, which the unit truly did appreciate.
Time was, after all, of the essence, as the human saying went.
As they left the city, driving along the freeway, the unit turned its head to observe Casey further.
Casey glanced at it in turn. "You doing okay? Um, would it be too much for me to ask what you were doing out there like that? You don't have to say anything you don't want to..."
It was human concern again. Nothing more. Not suspicion, not anything that might make her a potential threat. But still, curiosity, yes, the unit detected.
"I'd rather not talk about it," the unit spoke, pitching its voice and lowering the volume to a near whisper. Twisting its face into an expression of pain and fear. A facial expression its memory banks had numerous examples to choose from for imitation. For they had been induced specifically for that purpose, during interrogation sessions with captured humans before.
Casey's expression of concern intensified. Sympathy lingered in those eyes. "All right. I won't push. But...where you want to go...is it someplace safe? Is it home? Or- a friend's?"
The unit considered the responses it could give. It opted for a variation of the truth. "It's where someone I know lives."
"Okay..."
The unit was satisfied with the conversation's trajectory - satisfied when Casey returned her focus to driving, alone.
The unit scanned the freeway as they sped down it. Every car that passed.
Any one of them could be a Resistance fighter, either knowingly or unknowingly crossing paths with it.
The humans could surely guess that Skynet would have sent units to pursue, just as much as Skynet had guessed what their objective and targets were based on the date and location they had chosen here.
The rest of the drive was silent. No conversation.
But the unit remained alert.
The unit observed as they took the right off-ramp, heading out into the fields. And then, through the forest highway. They proceeded for another twelve minutes, before it finally spoke again.
"There - that house - park here," the unit said, pointing with an arm. "I can walk."
"Are you sure? We're still a good distance away-"
"I can walk," the unit repeated, opening the door and stepping out. It stopped, turning back and ducking low to look into the vehicle. It gave a smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome...and you're sure you'll be okay now?" the woman replied quickly.
The unit widened its smile. "Yes, I'm sure. Thank you, Casey. Goodbye, now."
"Take care, then, sweetie..."
The unit closed the door, turned, and walked off down the dirt road alone.
It activated its night vision filter as it walked.
It glanced back to watch the vehicle drive off, returning to the freeway.
Disappearing from sight.
Good.
The unit strode on up the road, taking a left turn around the trees. It walked up another, shorter road, until it came to a grassy yard and a driveway.
The house.
Two stories, not overly large, as far as houses of the time went.
But its size did denote the salary and prestigious career position of its owner.
There was a single, sleek red car sitting in the driveway that the unit passed by.
It walked up the steps to the front door.
The lights were on.
It tuned its audio receptors, and registered noise and voices inside.
Good.
It glanced around itself, scanning once more with night vision - no signs of waiting Resistance members.
The unit raised a hand, and knocked lightly on the door.
It waited eleven seconds for footsteps to approach from the other side, and the door to open.
The unit relaxed and fixed a smile onto its lips, shifting its weight to one leg slightly more so than the other.
"Hi...can I uh- help you?" spoke the man at the door.
The unit scanned his face immediately, comparing it to the provided data given by Skynet - the images and videos in its memory banks, from before the war. It was a one hundred percent match.
This was Jacob D. Baker, age thirty - date of birth: July 1st, 1992.
"Can I help you?" Jacob asked again, frowning at it. Worry. Perhaps fear, yes. Certainly a wariness. He was tensing, alert now.
The unit blinked. It committed a human, casual motion ingrained in memory banks: it raised a hand to brush its hair back behind an ear. "If you're Jacob Baker, Ridgeton University graduate in Computer Engineering, and current team leader at Serenity Systems, in the field of smart software and artificial intelligence development - then, yes. But more importantly: I can help you."
"Uh, look, miss-"
"Elizabeth Warner."
"Ms. Warner, I've got no idea who you are, or why you're on my doorstep past midnight, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. My daughter's asleep, and I need some sleep myself. If you know that much about me, you should know the hours are murder on a guy."
"I can't do that."
"Why?"
"Because I'm here to prevent your actual murder, Jacob Baker."
He stood there for several seconds, simply staring at it. It saw shock. Disbelief. Then, suspicion. An increased wariness. And tension in his body. "I'm definitely going to have to ask you to leave now, okay? Goodnight."
The man made to close the door.
The unit stepped forward, placed a hand on the door's edge, and stopped it dead with no effort. "You're important, Jacob. More important than you might realize at this time. And there are currently a maximum of fourteen people with military training and experience in this world who want nothing more than to kill you for it. I was sent here to protect you from them - and I will do it, with or without your cooperation or consent. Though, cooperation would make it much easier."
Jacob stopped trying futilely to close the door on it. But he did not move from where he stood. "What the hell are you talking about, lady? Why would a bunch of military goons want to kill me? And who would send a single girl to protect me? I think you're just insane, Ms. Warner. And if you don't leave, I will call the cops."
The unit shoved the door open and strode forward, grabbing the man's wrists as he made to push at it. "No, you'll listen to me. Now. I am not a 'girl.' I'm not a female, I'm not a human. I am a cybernetic organism, created by the artificial intelligence known as Skynet, and I was sent back through time to protect you from the fourteen trained human soldiers who also came here - to terminate you for creating said intelligence."
"H-hey- let me- what the hell? Serenity Systems- isn't even close to- anything like that-" the man protested, verbally as much as physically, his eyes widening and his breath quickening.
"Yet," the unit stated factually. "But on May third, twenty-twenty-five, you will." The unit gazed at him. It looked around the house properly. It returned its gaze to the man. "And these fourteen humans want to stop you from achieving that. They will kill you - they might even kill your daughter. They might take her hostage, threaten her to get your cooperation. Kill her, if you refuse them. She'd be a bargaining chip. If they don't successfully terminate you first. If you don't want to risk that happening, you will let me stay with you, and you will listen to me. I only want to protect your life."
Jacob tried to pull free of it again, harder than before. But to no effect. He drove his knee into its stomach - and groaned, hobbling on the spot. "Owww- fuuuck- what are you, made of metal?"
"Yes. I just told you. That wasn't very smart."
"Y-yeah, yeah, okay, I got it...maybe I- maybe I believe you...just let me go now okay? We can- talk about this, you can- protect me or whatever. Okay?"
The unit examined his face, tilting its head. "I detect a high probability that you're lying to me."
"N-no, no, I'm not lying, come on! Let me go! I- I wouldn't- do anything while my kid is here, alright? Just let go..."
The unit released him.
He stumbled back, rubbing at his knee. Then, his wrists. "You know if you're going to protect someone, you should usually try to be less aggressive and painful than the guys you're trying to protect someone from. If I even believe you..."
"I can offer you proof."
"Really? Well prove it then...crazy lady who claims to be a cyborg..."
"All right. If that's what you need to behave for me." The unit turned away and stalked through the home into the kitchen. It found the knife block, pulling out a large cleaver. It turned back to find Jacob just entering. Good. It placed the blade against the base of its palm and made an incision. Then it seized the living tissue covering and tore it off violently. Then, it pried off two small pieces of metal plating.
Jacob made a high noise, his hands going to his face.
"Look," the unit said firmly, raising its hand and showing its palm.
Showing the exposed servos, wiring, and metallic structure of the appendage overall.
Jacob lowered his hands and stared at it. He slowly moved closer, cautious. He blinked rapidly, then put his face even closer to its exposed mechanical insides. "O-okay, holy shit, but...you could still just have a kickass advanced prosthetic, or- or something. Doesn't mean you're some kind of cyborg from the- future."
The unit lowered its hand, placing it on the counter and replacing its metal plating over its palm. It used a smaller knife's tip to do the screws back in after bending the pieces into place again. Then it pulled the flesh covering back over it, and used the hem of its shirt to scrub away and soak up the blood. It looked to Jacob again, who was watching it closely still. "It doesn't matter to me whether you believe me or not - my mission is clear. I will not fail it."
"Uh...alright. Okay. So if I do believe you..." He put a hand to his chin, rubbing at stubbles of hair. "Okay. I- uh- I suppose I can let you...hang around? If that's what you're here for. You might not even need to do anything, right? If those guys aren't here? If they never-"
"They are. They will."
"How do you know that?"
The unit considered. "There is the possibility that not all of them survived the trip through time," it allowed. "But if even one of them has, they will come for you eventually."
"But until then, you don't need to do anything, do you? Just stick close to me? Watch out for danger?"
"Exactly."
"Exactly," he agreed. "And I can let you do that. As long as you're not dangerous, yourself."
"I am dangerous," it stated. "I am a T-888 combat chassis. Living tissue over a metal endoskeleton. Coltan alloy. Designed with-"
"Okay, okay, let me clarify here! As long...as you're not dangerous...to me or my daughter. You're here to protect us, right? So you- you're not going to be a danger to us, right?"
"I'm here to protect you - the child doesn't factor in to my mission."
"No," the man said, shaking his head. "Listen to me. She does factor into it - because she's mine, and she's here, and she's always going to matter to me. So you are going to keep her safe too. Or you can walk away, and I take my chances. If I believe you about any of this, anyways. But if I do...she is just as important as I am! More important!"
The unit paused, consulting its memory banks. Stored data. Information. "Emily Baker was never recorded as achieving anything notable in her lifetime. There's no mention of her in your own-"
"Maybe nothing some future people would care about, sure," Jacob interrupted it, his face contorting. He stepped forward and jabbed a finger at the unit. An aggressive move. "maybe she didn't pioneer- computer software or- or create some amazing AI or whatever the hell- but I'm damn certain she lived her life well and wonderfully! That she achieved whatever she wanted to achieve! That she was happy, and loved! And that matters. And it matters to me. So it's in your best interests to keep her happy and alive just as much as me! Do you understand me?! Because if she dies, if she ever gets hurt...I'd kill myself. You get that? If she goes, I go, and then there goes...this whole future wonderland of yours, with AI and- and cyborgs and whatever prosperous shit I create for the world. Do you get that?"
The unit took almost a minute to examine the man's statements. His expressions. His body posture. Indications of emotions, of sincerity, of honesty. It knew very well that humans could commit suicide for any number of reasons - from the vital chance to take out an enemy, to the banal reasoning of "depression." A lack of dopamine and serotonin in the brain. Genetic issues, poor life circumstances. Exhaustion, lack of options, numbness. Wanting an end to pain. Or even severe emotional distress stemming from loss. Intense grief and mental anguish.
It was always a possibility - higher so, for a human parent, with all those chemical and biological urges and inclinations to care for the health and safety of their child. Hardwired by nature, overwhelmingly powerful of an influence on their actions and behavior.
The unit accessed its memory banks.
Updating mission parameters - new entry: ensure the survival of Emily Baker (secondary loss may drastically increase possibility of primary mission failure as well).
"I understand," the unit responded at last, giving a nod and a smile. "I'll do my best to protect Emily Baker's life as much as your own."
The man's body relaxed. His arm lowered. His face showed powerful relief. Acceptance. "All right. Thank you - uh, Elizabeth. Could I call you Eliza? Or what about Liz?"
"You can call me whatever you like," the unit replied. "I don't have a preference."
"You don't, huh? Well what does everybody call you in the future?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Yes."
"What does that- what do you mean by that?"
"I'm a T-888. The identity Elizabeth Warner was assigned to me for the sake of this mission."
"Oh. So it's like an undercover thing."
"Yes."
"Okay...well, I'm just gonna call you Eliza. Emily might go for Liz, though."
"That's fine."
"What do you like to be called?"
"I don't get called anything. I'm a T-888 unit."
"Yeah, but...what about to yourself? You know, alone in your own mind?"
"I don't call myself anything in my own mind, either."
"You don't? But you're- I mean you are a woman, you're Elizabeth Warner, you-"
"No, I'm not." Why was the human insisting upon this? It was strange. "I'm not a woman, and my name isn't Elizabeth Warner. I'm a T-888 unit, and I need no pronouns."
"Well...still, as long as you're going to be here with us, you sort of do need pronouns and a name."
"Why?"
"Uh, because we can't go around calling you 'it' or 'T-888'. It'd be a dead giveaway for whoever's after us, right? It'll make things easier, too, back here in the past and all. Less chance of slipping up and saying you're a 'T-888' to the wrong person. Blowing your own cover. Build the habit, you know?"
The unit supposed it could comprehend how such a pattern of behavior would lead to more efficient infiltration of human society. Yes, if there was the possibility, surely it would cause no negatives? And it would take no effort on the unit's part to alter its method of self-referral to match what those around it would be labeling it as for the foreseeable future. So the unit did just that, with a quick modification of its memory banks. Just a single tweak of a data point.
"All right," she stated. "Done."
"Uh, what's done?" Jacob said, confusion on his face.
"I've now begun thinking of myself as 'woman, she/her, Elizabeth Warner.' It will align with what you call me now," Elizabeth told him.
"Uh...great. Good job? So...can you tell me about this future of yours? Where you're from? Or, when?"
"I can't tell you much without risking altering the future," Elizabeth said. "But I can tell you I came from the year 2046."
"Twenty-four years from now, then."
"Yes."
"Damn..." Jacob ran a hand over his hair. He rubbed his eyes. "Soooo...I really do need sleep. A lot of it, now. You want me in tip top shape to change the world or whatever, right?" he said with a smile. "I wouldn't want to wander into the path of a bullet in a sleep deprived fog, either."
"Right," she agreed. "Go to sleep. I'll-"
"You can sleep on the couch."
"I don't need sleep. I'll keep watch around the house for hostiles."
"Uh...right, okay. Fine. Robot lady. Just- you know, if my daughter wakes up before me, she's gonna want to know who you are and all. So...don't tell her any of this, okay? Just- say you're a friend of mine...from...work. And that you didn't have a place to stay, so you're- staying with me for a while. Okay?"
Well, she was not going to refuse him if he actually wanted to aid her in the act of infiltration. His cooperation truly was better than the alternative. "All right."
"Good. Great. So...good night. See you in the morning...if you're not a hallucination or a dream or whatever, anyways."
"Good night," she repeated, giving another smile.
The mission was going far smoother than she had anticipated, honestly.
Integration into this human's life was going to be...easy.