They weaved in and out of several lanes of traffic, dodging trucks and minivans. Jess was trembling violently, then suddenly the words burst out of her mouth.
"Okay, time out! Stop the bike! Come on, stop the bike, time out." she cried, gripping the handlebars with her sweaty, shaking hands. Obediently the biker pulled into a side street, and put the kickstand down.
"Now don't take this the wrong way, but you are a Terminator, right?" asked Jess, getting off the bike and staring at him, her blue eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.
"Yes. Cyberdyne Systems model 101." the Terminator stated calmly, and began reloading the shotgun with shells from his pockets.
"Shit," Jess swore, walking slowly around him. She poked a finger through the holes in his leather jacket. "So you're like…a machine underneath, right?"
The giant flicked the shotgun back in it's normal position. "I am a cybernetic organism, living tissue surrounding a metal endoskeleton." he growled.
"This is deep." she said. With a trembling finger, she traced his rugged jaw line, then dipped a finger into the holes in his tight gray muscle shirt. It came up bloody.
"Okay, then, so you're not here to kill me. I figured that part out for myself. So what's the deal?" she asked.
"My mission is to protect you." the Terminator say, impaling her with those mirrored sunglasses.
"Who sent you?" Jess asked suspiciously. If he said "robots" she was out of there in a flash.
He stared at her as if it were obvious. "You did. Thirty five years from now, you reprogrammed me to be your protector here, in this time."
"Damn." said Jess. The Terminator suddenly turned around, his eyes scanning the alleyway.
"Come on. We have no time to lose." he said, helping her on to the bike. His calloused palm nearly swallowed Jess's hand, which felt delicate in his grip.
"But I thought he was dead." Jess said. He looked at her with something like pity.
"No." was all he would say.
It was several miles down the highway before Jess scraped up the courage to ask another question. "So this guy is a Terminator like you, right?" she asked, holding onto his muscled waist tighter.
"Not like me. He is a T-1000, a prototype model." he said.
"What the hell is that?" she asked.
"Liquid metal." said the Terminator calmly.
"So this guy's more advanced then you?" asked Jess, her mouth going dry.
"Affirmative." barked the Terminator.
They traveled for almost three miles before Jess thought of another question. Luckily, the Terminator seemed perfectly complacent with answering her questions.
"Hey, can we stop by my house first? I need to pick up some stuff," Jess said.
"Negative. The T-1000 would definitely be waiting for you there." said the Terminator.
"You sure?" Jess asked. He turned to her.
"I would."
A little cold pit of fear began gnawing at Jess. She was with the same man who murdered her father. Not that she cared much for her father; she had never met him, after all. But still! She was in the presence of a killing machine. But he was gentle, almost tender with her, which threw her off guard even more. He was handsome, that much was clear; but Jess had never been one to fall for a guy just because of their looks. Still, even considering that this man was remotely attractive scared her. He was a murderer, a robot, a machine. Not even human!
But there was no denying it. He was handsome.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Sarah stood in her psychiatric issue gown, a baggy gray hospital type with blue polka dots. Her hair was neatly combed and washed, her brown bangs fluffy and neat. She was smoking a cigarette, her nails clipped close to the quick. Dr. Gorke was sitting across from her, the two of them watching a video.
In the video, Sarah was sitting at the very same table, her face in her hands.
"-I'm standing at a chain link fence, watching myself with Jess at the park…and I scream for them to run, because I know it's coming, it'll be there soon…" she broke off, blinking hard, looking at Dr. Gorke. "The dream is the same every night, why do I have to keep telling you?" she asked bitterly.
"Keep talking, Sarah," Dr. Gorke said in the video.
"Then the blast wave hits them," Sarah continued, her eyes going blank with horror. "And their skin peels away like dead leaves, and I watch it float in the air…My flesh slides off my bones…" She stood up abruptly, her eyes wild.
"Sarah, calm down." Dr. Gorke said calmly.
"Don't you get it? I know the exact day this happens, the very day, Dr. Gorke! Do you get it? You're all dead, do you hear me? You're all dead!" Sarah screamed, thrashing around. Orderlies come in quickly to restrain her.
Dr. Gorke froze the video when the camera landed on Sarah's enraged, livid features.
"I'm much better now," Sarah protested. "Clearer…calmer."
"Yes, you have shown much improvement," said Dr. Gorke encouragingly.
"It's helped me a lot, you know, to have a goal in mind." Sarah said, stubbing out her cigarette.
Dr. Gorke smiled. "Oh, really? And what might that be?" he asked.
"Well, you said if I improved in six months, you would transfer me to minimum security, and I could have visitors. I need to see Jess. She'll be eighteen in a few months, you know." Sarah said, her eyes going misty at the thoughts of her girl.
"Yes, I know. But I need to ask a few questions. First you say that the Terminators do exist, and now you say they don't. Why the sudden change?"
Sarah's eyes glazed slightly, then flickered. "There would be evidence," she said quietly. "Remnants in the compressor…things like that."
"What happened to your theory that they hid the evidence?" asked Dr. Gorke, referring to his file.
Sarah looked away. "No. Why would they?"
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Almost three hundred miles away, in a huge lab called Cyberdyne, there was a man named Miles Davis. He was a hard-working, intelligent man, and he was the lead researcher for this particular squad.
"Mr. Davis! Mr. Davis!" a youthful voice called. It was an intern, with scraggly blonde hair and a perpetual lollipop in his mouth, which made his words slightly garbled.
"Um, they need you to sign out on…it. You know, it? Whatever it is." said the intern, holding his diet soda on his clipboard. He offered the clipboard to Miles, then hastily withdrew the soda.
The two of them walked towards the lab doors. "Uh, Mr. Davis?" the intern asked hesitantly. Miles raised an eyebrow. "Can you tell me…I mean, if you know, of course…where they got…it?"
Mile signed the clipboard with a flourish, and handed it back. He had a grim smile on his features. "You know, I asked them that very same question the first time I saw it and you know what they said?" he asked. "Don't ask."
The intern shrugged, then left, leaving Miles alone in the lab. Miles went over to the guard, taking out his specialized key. "Morning, Jack," Miles said cheerfully.
"Morning, Miles. How's the family?" Jack asked. Miles smiled.
"Doing fine. On three-one, two, three." The two of them turned their identical keys at the same time. The keys had to be turned within a second of each other, otherwise the silent alarm would go off and the police would be swarming all over the building in minutes.
Miles entered the vault, hearing the pneumatic hiss of the door behind him. He went over to the wall and entered his password. A section of the wall popped out silently, and there, contained in a tiny Plexiglas case, was the fragment of a memory chip. It was insanely complex, more difficult then anybody had ever seen before. And next to it was a mechanical arm, larger then the size of most humans, but only by a bit. Miles looked at them both, a little knot furrowing on his brow.
0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o
Dr. Gorke rubbed his temples. "Look, Sarah, I know how smart you are. And I have a feeling that you haven't really changed. You're just telling me what I want to hear. So, I don't have any other options. I'm going to have to recommend to the Security Board that you stay in maximum security for another six months."
Sarah was watching him, a look of savagery on her face. Without a seconds warning, she lunged at him, her face contorted with rage. Her hands, calloused and strong from all the pull ups in her room, were around his neck, seizing his tie, choking him as hard as she could.
"You bastard! You don't know what you're doing, you son of a bitch!" Sarah shrieked. Orderlies rushed in, restraining her with Velcro straps and straitjackets. A needle was jabbed into her neck, and a piercing scream tore itself out of her mouth.
Dr. Gorke stepped back, rubbing his neck, his eyes still wide. He turned to the one-way mirror that covered one wall, and sighed. "Model citizen," he said ruefully.
0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
They stopped for a phone booth a few miles down the road. Jess dug into her pocket, bringing out a wad of unused bills. She looked at them with a bitter mixture of regret and sadness. Only a few hours ago, she and Mikey were planning on spending this in the best and loudest way possible. Now she was being pursued by a robot from the future, and being protected by the same machine who killed her father.
"Look, Todd and Janelle are dicks, but I gotta warn 'em." she said. She stuffed the bills back into her pocket. "You got a quarter?" she asked.
Without a word, the Terminator smashed his fist into the change drawer, spilling nickels, dimes and quarters over the floor. Silently he picked one up and handed it to her. Jess shook herself and put the quarter in the slot.
The phone rang once, twice. Then Janelle's voice. "Hello?" she said. Jess sighed with relief.
"Janelle? You and Todd okay?" she said worriedly.
"Jess? Is that you?" Janelle asked. Something didn't feel quite right to Jess. She never calls me Jess, she mused.
"Yeah." Jess said.
There was a little relieved noise at the other end. "Oh thank God, Jess, I was beginning to worry. Look, it's late. If you hurry home we can have dinner together."
Jess covered the phone with her hand. "Something's wrong, she's never this nice." she mouthed at the Terminator.
He took the phone away from her and held it to his ear. "Jess?" Janelle said again. "Where are you? Are you all right?"
Then, to Jess's shock, he opened his mouth and imitated Jess's voice perfectly. It didn't even sound like an imitation. "I'm fine. I'm right here."
Todd opened the refrigerator door and took out a carton of milk. He raised it to drink, then stopped. He looked out the window.
"Hey, shut the hell up! Stupid dog," he muttered. He shrugged at Janelle. "Thought you were gonna tell her to get rid of that mutt."
Calmly, Janelle shifted the phone to her other ear. With her right hand, she impaled Todd with a four foot long shining sword that had sprouted from her arm.
"Honey, where are you?" she asked again.
He covered the phone with his hand. "What's the dog's name?" he asked.
"Max, why?" Jess said.
"Hey, Janelle, what's wrong with Wolfy? I can hear him barking." he said, again in that perfect imitation.
"Wolfy's fine, honey. He's just fine. Where are you?" Janelle asked again.
He hung up the phone. "Your foster parents are dead." he said brusquely.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Janelle watched her husband die with disinterest. Todd gurgled, vomiting blood from the corners of his mouth, his speech impaired by the sword that had stabbed him directly in the mouth. With a little jerk, she withdrew the sword, and Todd slumped to the floor.
She looked at her hand as it slowly faded from silver to gray, then finally to skin tones. A little smile twisted her lips, a spark of malicious pleasure in her eyes. Then she turned away, her whole body going bright silver, like liquid metal, then forming into the shape of a young police officer.
"Wait, you're telling me this thing can imitate anything it touches?" Jess asked, her eyes bright with fear.
"Affirmative." said the Terminator.
"So, how about a pack of cigarettes?" she asked.
"Negative. It can only transform into something of equal size and body mass." he said.
"So why didn't it just become a bomb or something to get me?" Jess asked, her voice bordering on hysterical.
"Bombs and guns have complex machinery, moving parts. It doesn't work that way." he said, still on scan mode.
"So what can it form?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"Knives and stabbing weapons."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Two detectives, one of them middle aged and balding, the other younger with a heavy moustache, stood in front of Sarah Connor. The balding one had one black suspenders, and threw two photographs in front of her.
"Sarah, these pictures were taken eighteen years ago, down at the Nevada police station," he was saying. The pictures were of a muscular, leather clad man with a striking jaw and sunglasses. "And these," he said, tossing out more pictures, "Were taken today, at the mall downtown."
There was no doubt about it. They were the same muscular man, same sunglasses, same menacing frown on his face.
"Ms. Connor, we know you know this guy," said the man with the moustache.
It took every ounce of willpower in Sarah not to scream "That's the man who killed Kyle!" but she remained calm. Her stare was blank and expressionless.
The bald man waved a hand in front of her face. "We're wasting our time." he snapped, and turned to Dr. Gorke.
"Sorry guys," Dr. Gorke said. "She just becomes more and more detached from reality."
Unbeknownst to them, Sarah secreted three paperclips, which had been used to secure the photos, in her hand. When none of them were looking, she transferred them to her mouth.
"Nelson, take her back." Dr. Gorke said. The mustached man started to gather up the photos.
"Come on, sweet heart." said Nelson, a pudgy guard who was in charge of maximum security.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
. Jess sat on the hood of a burned out car, talking, while the Terminator swiveled slowly, scanning the area for potential threats. The only people in sight were two pimps who were talking in low voices across the street.
"Mom dated this guy once, down in Mexico? You know, running guns. She'd shack up with anybody so she could teach me to become this 'great military leader'." Jess said with a snort. "And then poof, it's like, 'Sorry kid, your mom's a psycho, didn't you know?'"
Jess paused, her eyes far away. The Terminator paused for a moment in his scan mode, watching the bitterness slowly fade away behind those icy blue eyes.
"I hated her for that," Jess snapped, slamming a fist into the roof of a car. "But it turns out it was true…" she looked bleakly at the Terminator, and his brown eyes softened when he saw the terror and fear and weariness in her blue eyes.
"Nobody believed her," Jess said quietly. "Not even me." She turned to the Terminator. "We gotta bust her outta there," she said fiercely.
"Negative. The T-1000 would assume Sarah Connor's form, and wait for you to make contact with her. It is not a mission priority." he said in that gravelly no-nonsense tone.
"What happens to the people who are imitated?" Jess asked.
"Usually, the host is terminated." he said.
"Why didn't you tell me that?" Jess shouted. "Quick, we gotta go right now!"
He seized a handful of her shirt as she tried to make for the bike. "Help, help! Somebody help!" Jess screamed.
"This is not assisting our mission," said the Terminator with a sigh.
The two pimps across the street took notice. They flicked out their cigarettes and started over.
"Let go of me, you dickwad!" Jess shrieked. Instantly, he let go, and she fell onto the pavement with a surprised "oomph".
"Why did you do that?" she asked. He leveled his sunglass-covered eyes at her.
"Because you told me to." he said.
"Wait…you have to do what I say, huh?" Jess said, picking herself up. Despite her skinned elbow, a grin was unfurling on her face. "Prove it. Stand on one foot."
Without hesitation, he lifted one knee in the air. Jess whooped and hugged herself.
"Yes!" she said. The two pimps reached them, out of breath. One was a fat black man with an afro, and gold bracelets jingling on his wrists. The other was a medium-sized white man, well-built, but puny compared to the Terminator.
"You okay, kid?" said the white man. Jess sneered at him.
"Get lost, bozos." she snapped. The black man sighed.
"C'mon, Lewis, let's get outta here." he said. Lewis growled at Jess.
"You little bitch," he snarled, then turned to leave.
"Did you just call moi a bitch?" Jess laughed mockingly. Then, to the Terminator. "Grab this dickhead."
The Terminator grabbed Lewis by the hair and hoisted him in the air. Lewis screamed, tugging, but he only pulled harder. The black man wrapped an arm around the Terminator's neck. The Terminator grabbed his arm and twisted-hard.
There was a grinding crunch of bones, and the black man fell, yelping, to the pavement. The Terminator turned quickly, and pinned him against the car. To Jess's horror, he pulled a pistol out of the waistband of his leather chaps and aimed it square at his chest.
"NO!" Jess screamed, and pushed the gun out of the way as he fired. It missed the black man, biting deep into the rusty hood of the car instead. "Beat it, you guys!" Jess shouted, and the two of them left, screaming for the police.
"You were gonna kill that guy!" Jess said in shock. He stared at her dully.
"Of course. I'm a terminator."
Duh, Jess thought to herself. "Well, you're not a terminator anymore, you got that? Now, I am gonna rescue my mom, and you're gonna help me." She handed the pistol back to him.