John Connor Interview – Monday 15th October 2029
"Life means nothing to them."
He held his hand up high. "They're up here, and we-" He gestured abstractly "We don't exist to most of them. Most of them see us the way we'd see a cold – mildly annoying, but we'll be rid of it soon."
"And the rest of them? You mean Alison, don't you? What does she think?"
December 4th 2006 – 5.15pm
Patton stopped by the impossibly tall column, halfway across the square – the palace in front of her was huge, beautiful, imposing. Eighteen century architecture, columns and rows and rows of windows. It was painted a duck egg blue and the golden accents glinted in the low Russian winter light; it was getting dark now.
Her breath condensed in front of her – even with three layers of warm clothes and a hat it was freezing. Her feet crunched the snow under-foot; they'd walked down the embankment and the river had frozen, hard. It almost looked like you could walk across.
"It's closing Patton! Come on, before we die!"
John Connor Interview – Monday 15th October 2029
"My mother? She was tough."
"On you?"
"On everyone."
"But you loved her."
"I worshipped the ground she walked on."
Saturday 14th July 2007 – 11.32am
Machines beeped. There was a screen with some squiggly lines. A drip was hooked up to Sarah's arm, pumping poison into her veins. She sat back in her seat and looked at the tiled ceiling.
"In other news, Jack Beattie, Dave Martial and Marita Tolstaia were arrested last night in connection with several armed robberies of banks in the Washington area over the last few months," the radio prattled. No-one was listening.
Sarah was starting to doze off a little, when the nurse came up.
"Sorry, blood pressure-" he began. Sarah nodded and held out her arm.
The nurse started to chat; they always did. "Any family coming to visit soon?" he asked absently, his mind on the task at hand.
Sarah shook her head "Only child, parents are dead and I never had kids."
"Oh, I didn't mean-" he said uncomfortably as he took her wrist and stared at his watch.
"No, it's fine. I'm used to being alone."
John Connor Interview – Monday 15th October 2029
"If you could do anything different, knowing what you know now, what would it be?"
Connor thought about this for a minute.
"My life – from childhood, I always knew we were heading for this, always knew I'd have to lead humanity in the end..."
"So?"
"I'd have fun. Before the world ended, I'd have some fun."
Sunday 3rd May 2009 – 10.42am
"Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been ten days since my last confession."
"Go on," the priest sounded bored – he'd been listening to people's so called sins for hours. Mostly, old parishioners confessed to wishing their neighbour's dog would be hit by a car, or stealing ten cents from the collection plate.
Cecilia smiled. Time to wake him up.
John Connor Interview – Monday 15th October 2029
"Markus was like an older brother to me – tried to teach me to surf once."
"Before Judgement Day?"
Connor shook his head "Just after. We were on this deserted beach in Southern Chile."
"What happened?"
"I was just getting the hang of it – I'd managed to stand up a couple of times."
"Then-?"
"Then a plane flew overhead. We didn't know if it was one of us or one of them, so we dropped everything and ran."
Saturday 24th August 2013 – 2.15pm
A child screamed in the yard. Markus stopped and listened carefully. No, he was pretty sure it was a happy scream. If it wasn't, one of them would surely run in to get him.
Before he started playing again, he took a moment to look at the photo of a woman on top of the piano. She was young, and quite pretty, but even then she was starting to look sick. He stretched out and touched it.
"God, I miss you," he told her, under his breath.
He started at the beginning of the phrase and played right through, but it didn't have an end yet. He jotted down some notes on the sheet music. Then he played it again.
That's it, he thought. It's done.
John Connor Interview – Monday 15th October 2029
"Relationships?" Connor was slightly wistful. "I never let anyone get close. Before Judgement Day – well, would you have let yourself get attached, knowing what was coming?"
"And after?"
"After... Well, I'm John Connor, amen't I? Anyone mad enough to want to date me, well, they were mad enough that I didn't want to date them."
Monday 31st October 2022 – 11.49pm
Ugh, this is awful, Joan thought. She just wanted to get back to the dorm; she had a paper due Friday, and she'd barely started the research. Besides, with the heat from the stuffy bar, and the ill-fitting mask, she was finding it hard to breathe.
"Music's horrible, isn't it?" A voice came from beside her – she turned around to see what seemed to be a slutty RAF pilot.
The music was probably the only thing Joan didn't object to, so she shrugged politely and started to leave, but the girl grabbed her arm.
"Don't go. At least let me buy you a drink. I'm Gina."
She was good-looking... "Gina? I'm Joan."
"It's Georgina actually, but I hate the George bit."
John Connor Interview – Monday 15th October 2029
Connor looked past the camera, at the interviewer:
"You were there in the corridor when they beat Alison?"
"Yes."
"She can feel pain you know. They feel things, physical things. Like pleasure. Like pain," he said it, completely matter of fact.
"Why didn't she fight back?"
"When I remade her, I made her so she couldn't hurt humans.
Monday 5th September 2016 – 7.30am
Collette snapped a picture on her phone. "Could you try to smile, please sweetheart?"
"Mom! They're not going to like me! And Neil said the teacher is really mean! And my school bag is too heavy! Can I just stay here, with you?"
Erica was so cute, Collette thought; she had little pigtails and a very cross expression.
"You'll be fine. We've got to get going, don't want to be late on your first day."
John Connor Interview – Monday 15th October 2029
"Don't you see though? We were always headed for this. There's no stopping it. You can't stop progress. The technology that causes Judgement Day will always be invented, sooner or later. The best we can do is delay it a little."
Tuesday 16th September 2029 – 6.18pm
Teabags. Milk? Milk milk milk milk milk. There! Milk!
Mr. Sansom bustled around the kitchen; they'd be here any minute, and he wanted to be ready. There was a ringing – his phone, in the living room.
He crossed, humming happily to himself, and picked it up with a fake deep husky voice "Hullo?"
"Not the time dad."
"Oh, are you nearly here? I don't have any sweets for the kids."
"Have you been watching the news?"
"No, why?"
"Just turn it on. We're not coming, I'm taking them back home."
She hung up. Mr. Sansom's heart fell – he only got to see his grand-kids about once a year, they lived on the opposite side of the country. Whatever it was, it couldn't be that bad, could it? He switched on the TV.
"We've received unconfirmed reports – oh, actually," the news reporter looked off screen "that's confirmation now. Berlin, London, Washington, Dallas and New York have been hit. We don't know who, we don't know why, as of yet. Stay tuned for more updates."
Mr. Sansom was seriously glad he wasn't president any-more.
"We are under attack."