(Disclaimer: All Chapters of this story are the product of my own creation using the characters from the T.V. show Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles. I am making no money off it and write solely for my own entertainment)
Special thanks to Fortex for betaing the chapter as well as helping me with concepts and ideas for the story
Chapter 5: Acting in Reality
Sarah's eyes snapped open. She had been dreaming. Though suffering from a nightmare would be more accurate. Not that that was anything new to her. Nightmares had become like her most hated stuffed animal. The one that no matter what you did with it, it always found its way back to your bed. Most of the time her dreams were of machines. Machines killing her, her son, the whole goddamn planet and this one was no different…Well it was, but not much.
She had dreamed of being surrounded by all the scientists involved with the Manhattan Project. The project responsible for developing the atomic bomb. The dream left her feeling contemplative. Had they known just what they were developing? How couldn't they? Why did they continue if they did? Would she have killed them if she had the chance? The dream answered that last question for her when she put a round in each scientist's head. Only for them to get up and reveal themselves to be machines before returning the favor.
It hadn't been all that long ago when the world was painted in black and white for her. The mysteries of life had disappeared and were replaced with simple answers. Science was bad, machines were bad, and humans were good. Life was simple for her back then, but now she looked back on those days in shame. Her actions back then resulted in the deaths of many. Ruined lives and permanently scarred many others. Including, she was sad to admit, her own son's. Had it not been for the T-800 and Miles Dyson she probably would have never reclaimed her sanity; her ability to see the shades of grey once more.
Pushing herself up from her bed she looked around to see various papers and pictures scattered around reminding her of what she had been doing the night before. She had been going through the files they had recovered from the Resistance hideout trying to make sense of them. Many of the papers and names meant nothing to her, but one did. She started shuffling through the papers on her bed trying to find it when John walked in carrying a mug of coffee.
"Good morning!" He said in an overly cheery tone getting an annoyed grunt from his mother. Sarah snatched the mug from him. "Now is that any way to treat your loveable, funny, and all around good looking son? The skies are clear and blue, the birds are chirping, and-"
"If you continue talking like that I'm going to assume you've been replaced by a machine and shoot you in the head." she said cutting him off.
"Well aren't you just a bright fucking ray of sunshine today." He dryly responded.
"And there's the son I know and love." She muttered to herself. It had been two weeks since the warehouse incident and while things were still tense at times, they had for the most part returned to normal.
John looked around the bed at the various sheets of paper blanketing it. "Find anything?"
"Newspaper clippings, surveillance photos, bank records. Pretty much everything they could find on every high-tech company in the state. It took me a while to figure some of it out, but then I found this." She said handing him a handful of papers stapled together.
John took the packet and started leafing through it. He scanned the pages briefly before returning to the first, taking note of the emblem at the top-left corner of the sheet. "Cyberdyne Systems? That company has been gone for over a decade…why would they…"
He looked at his mother in realization. Sarah nodded in confirmation. "They weren't a support crew like we thought. They were a SKYNET hunting party. Considering the relation between SKYNET and Cyberdyne, they felt it would be a good place to start. And it is."
"She's not going to be happy to see you." John commented having figured out what his mother was planning.
"She never is."
"Want me to come along?" He asked. He knew what she would say, but he also knew she'd be suspicious of him if he said nothing at all.
"No, you have your own job to do." Sarah said. John silently agreed with her. But the job he had planned wasn't the same one she was thinking of.
The sound of combat boots on hardwood drew their attention. Looking out into the hall they saw Cameron walk by wearing said boots and mismatching undergarments. John's gaze remained fixed on the hallway even after the cyborg had walked out of sight much to his mother's ire.
"What the hell are you staring at?" She demanded in annoyance.
"The greatest pair of a fake boobies I've ever seen." He responded before quickly bounding out of the room.
XxXxXxXxX
John entered the kitchen after showering to see Cameron standing by the counter applying makeup. He absently noted that she was now fully dressed.
"You're getting pretty good at that." He praised as he opened up the refrigerator intent on finding the milk.
"Thank you." She replied.
Giving up his search he closed the door and turned around to see the milk sitting by a bowl of cereal and orange juice. He gave her a mild look of annoyance as he poured the milk into the bowl. Even after two, almost three weeks of living with her, he hadn't gotten used to her setting up breakfast for him. Between his mother's pancakes and Cameron's acts of indentured servatude he was quickly finding his morning meal to be the most annoying aspect of life. Even more than the, "Hey you're the future leader of mankind!" bit.
His glass and bowl full, he put the milk away before sitting down and taking a bite from his cereal. "Still, wouldn't say much for SKYNET's terminators if they couldn't figure out how to use and apply makeup."
Sarah walked in and smacked her son on the back of the head with a roll of paper. "Don't talk with your mouth full." Looking in Cameron's direction she added. "And you, don't walk around the house in anything less than fully clothed."
"There goes my one joy of getting up at the crack of dawn." John said just loud enough for his mom to hear.
Sarah smacked him again with her roll of paper before she unraveled it and laid it on the counter. The eight-by-eleven sheet showed the blueprints for the school. She was just about to start explaining the possible exits and security when John snatched the paper up. He quickly crumpled it up and threw it across the kitchen into the trash.
Sarah glared disapprovingly at her son and was about to lay into him when he spoke. "I already know the layout like the back of my hand. Six exits, two guards in the morning, four in the afternoon. Trust me, I did my homework. Worse comes to worse, I have a life-size Barbie with karate-chop action." John quickly grabbed Cameron's wrist and started moving it up and down. "And believe it or not, she can break through concrete blocks better than Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris."
Sarah did her best to hide her smile but found it hard between her son's sales-pitch tone and Cameron's look of utter confusion. Finally she relented. "Alright. You pretty much covered everything I was going to say anyway."
Getting up and grabbing his back he gave his mother a kiss before walking to the door. "Anything happens, I'm sure we can handle it."
Cameron repeated his words to Sarah who nodded in agreement. Realizing something, she quickly said. "Don't you kiss me."
The terminator gave her a quick look before walking off. As she neared the door, Sarah added. "Or anyone else."
John stood by the door holding it open for her. When she passed, a mischievous smile spread across his face and he said just before closing the door, "Feel free to kiss me all you want."
Sarah watched the door shut and debated yelling after her son, but decided against it. She would do it once he got back from school.
XxXxXxXxX
Cameron and John walked side by side conversing quietly. It would have been just what people would expect from two teens going to school. Only problem was there school being in the opposite direction.
"Computers?" John asked.
"Check." Cameron responded.
"USBs complete with simulated programs?"
"Check."
"Packed lunch?"
"Check."
"Phone call to the school?"
"I called while you showered excusing us from class."
"How'd you manage that?" He asked. Cameron gave him a blank look. "Right, dumb question." Looking forward, he interlocked is hands behind his head. "That should cover everything I can think of. That means we have roughly eight hours for me to relearn hacking."
'Which is easier said than done.' He silently added. Hacking wasn't like learning to ride a bike again. It was like moving from a tricycle to a motorcycle. It had taken him years to perfect his skills and after an eight year lapse he would have to put in overtime if he ever wanted to be at that level again. The only problem was he couldn't afford to get caught. Security was a big issue and with the knowledge that there were other terminators out there he couldn't risk jeopardizing their safety. Vice versa, he also couldn't afford to not know how to hack. His computer skills were one of his defining attributes in the future. They enabled him to reprogram the terminators to use against SKYNET and possibly decrypt any messages SKYNET might broadcast.
Enter Cameron. The solution to his problems. Her own computer skills would have to be slightly below that of his future self. The simple fact that if they were better, he wouldn't have been able to reprogram her being evidence of that. With that in mind he had approached her not long after registering for school to see if she was capable of creating simulations based on the security networks of every level of law enforcement. She was capable of that and more. Since she never had to sleep she spent every night developing the simulations with varying degrees of difficulty that went to a level more complex and secure than what was currently available in the computer world.
However, he knew she couldn't just give him the programs and let him have a field day with them. He'd spend more time trying to figure out what the hell he needed to do just to enter the program than actually hacking it. He needed both a tutor and a lot of time. One he had, the other he did not. Cameron served as the perfect tutor, but between school, homework, and investigations into SKYNET he would be too busy to get any real practical experience with hacking.
So there was only one option available, skip school and learn something more useful. Sure there may have been some obscure alternative, but John didn't consider them practical. Nope, sacrificing the wonderful gift that is public education was the only possible way he would ever be able to learn the dreary task of cyber-terrorism. It was true! He really wanted to go to school so he could learn to right good, desecrate the bodies of dead things, and learn a language he already knew how to speak. And-
'Oh who am I kidding? Public education is horseshit!' He thought, breaking away from his musings. Besides high school would never offer him the same James Bond feeling that hacking did.
"…John?" Cameron spoke, breaking him further away from his thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"Do you hate Sarah Connor?"
'Ah the wonderful aspect that is terminator bluntness.' "No. What gives you that impression?"
"You're actions."
"…" John.
"…" Cameron.
"…" John.
"…" Cameron.
"…Could you be any less specific?"
"…No."
John rubbed the bridge of his nose trying to fight the incoming headache. "Right, you're a machine. Not well versed in the arts of sarcasm. So let's try this again. Can you elaborate?"
"Oh, thank you for explaining. I've noticed that many of your actions seem to undermine or disregard Sarah Connor's instructions and/or orders. You also spend a great deal of effort to say and do things she doesn't approve of."
"Well to answer the first part, we just have different views on how to get things done. It's not that I enjoy…no, wait…I don't always enjoy ignoring her ideas, it's just that our priorities are different. Take today for instance. She wants me to go to school and learn the same things as everyone else my age; I want to learn something I'll actually use in the future."
"I see."
"As to riling her up…that's just my God-given right as a teenager." John explained with an impish smile.
The two fell into another bout of silence as they continued walking, only for Cameron to break it once more. "…John?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you hate me?"
John wasn't too certain as to how he should answer that one.
XxXxXxXxX
Tarissa knelt before her husband's grave and placed a bouquet before the marker. She hadn't planned on visiting today. Normally she reserved those visits for anniversaries; both her wedding day and the date of his passing. Impromptu or not, it wouldn't stop her from bringing him flowers.
She briefly took note of a shadow looming over her shoulder. She didn't need to see who it was; it could only be one person, the woman who asked to meet with her; Sarah Connor. Sighing, she braced herself for the upcoming conversation. Standing up and turning around, she was only mildly shocked at seeing her unchanged appearance after eight years. She had long since gotten used to seeing the unexplainable around Sarah.
"Sarah." She greeted rigidly.
"Tarissa." She returned uncomfortably. Words weren't her forte.
"You look…"
"Different?"
"The same." Tarissa finished blandly.
"May I?" Sarah asked gesturing to the solitary carnation in her hand and Miles grave.
"I don't see why not. You brought it." She consented moving away from the grave. She didn't bother hiding her annoyance though. They both knew the flower was more of a peace offering than a sign of respect or remorse. Still, they went through the motions.
"How's Danny?" Sarah asked setting the flower done. "It's been ten years, right? Since Miles death?"
Tarissa held back a sigh. Danny hadn't come to visit his father's grave in many years. She couldn't say she was surprised. After Miles died he became withdrawn, trying to pretend his father never died. As he got older he grew bitter with her, for helping the woman who tried murdering Miles. Miles's death and by default Sarah Connor, tore her family apart. Tarissa wished she could condemn the woman, but she knew she couldn't do that without condemning the rest of the world as well.
Sarah Connor for better or for worse was trying to save the world. Like it or not Tarissa had long since come to realize that her family was just a casualty in a war that hadn't even started. The sacrifice of a few for the good of the many. That was why she continued aiding Sarah. She had little left to lose and was already entrenched deep.
"What do you want, Sarah?" She asked abruptly. Just because she'd help her didn't mean she had to like it. "You never die and you always want something."
Sarah tried not to dwell on her words as she walked over to the other woman and handed her a folder. "I need you to look at these photographs. I know it's been a long time, but tell me if you recognize anybody."
Tarissa took the folder and pulled out the photos. She idly wondered what she would do if she did recognize someone. She couldn't pull the trigger, but she could hand the gun over to someone who could. As she flipped to the final photo she realized she get her answer.
"No…there's no one."
Sarah seemed to see through her. "One of them might be involved with SKYNET right now. They may not even realize it."
Tarissa shook her head, sticking to her lie.
"I see." Sarah said quietly. "Sorry for troubling you…I'll leave you alone."
As the woman got up to walk away Tarissa hung her head in defeat. Sarah was willing to let her lie? If there was anything she didn't want, it was her pity. "The fourth photo. The young one. His name is Andrew Goode. Andy."
Sarah turned around and took a few steps towards her.
"He was an intern at Cyberdyne. Miles liked him." Tarissa continued. She watched as Sarah analyzed the face in the picture. "Is he going to die too?"
Her question drew Sarah's attention.
"Is that what happens now? He dies?"
"I…uh. I don't know." Sarah answered hesitantly. "I hope not."
"Well if it does, make sure it matters. Make sure it's not in vain."
"Nobody dies in vain."
They both knew that to be a lie.
XxXxXxXxX
Agent James Ellison carefully entered the burnt remains of a top floor apartment room. A few passing law enforcement warned him to watch his step as some of the floor was too damaged to sustain any substantial weight. Glancing around, he saw that almost all four walls surrounding the room had been blown away. Through the burned remains of the walls he noticed that the adjacent two buildings were vacant. Either someone had rented them out or it was just pure coincidence. Being a veteran FBI agent he went with the former.
"James Ellison." A female voice spoke catching his attention. It was Greta Simpson, a fellow FBI agent. "They told me you were coming. But I told them the last time you worked a crime scene Hoover was cross-dressing in Quantico."
Ellison ignored her comments and held up a folder he had brought along. "Ballistics."
"I can already tell you mine are bigger." She said taking the folder from him.
'Such a charming personality. It's a wonder why you're still single.' He sarcastically thought.
"Same gun that killed your boys here killed one of my CIs. Enrique Salzia."
"What's the connection?"
"He supplied fake papers. Your guys had fake papers." He knew the connection wasn't strong, but it was the only thing he could find aside from the weapon. He was hoping to learn more from Simpson.
"Hope you're not selling the terrorist-cell theory because I'm not buying it."
'Like a charm.' He thought. "Why not?"
"Look at the print report." She said handing him a sheet from her own folder. "Cal. ID, NCIC, CDP, Interpol. There's nothing here. These guys were drug dealers. Small-time. Definitely not worth you putting your tie on and breaking open your Thomas Guide."
Ellison made a show of looking around the apartment. "And I guess small-time drug dealers are making it a habit of wiring their workstations to explode. With plastic explosives no less. Oh and what about the empty apartments next door?"
"So they had a conscious? Maybe they conducted business next door? Who cares? The bottom line is these guys wanted to cover their tracks. Whacking your guy was just part of the equation. Go back to your office. Your desk misses you."
"Right. Good one." He said dryly walking off. Simpson's theory was just as poor as his connection. The only difference was the evidence worked in her favor. He knew there was more than meets the eye. He just needed to find out what.
XxXxXxXxX
The tall foreboding figure of Cromartie stalked through the halls of a Los Angeles hospital. It had taken some time to repair the physical damage from the plasma round that had struck him in the bank vault but he felt that worked in his favor. In the time it would take for him to prepare to carry out his mission, the Connors would fall into a sense of security. They would assume he was out of the picture. Too many variables worked against him during his first attempt. John Connor's skill with a high caliber weapon, the terminator protector, the TDE, and the plasma rifle.
Perhaps he had been too hasty in his attempts to assassinate John Connor. Every time he thought he knew all there was, something new would present itself. Now though, it should only be the terminator he needed to concern himself with. The TDE and weapons wouldn't have made it through time. That being said, Cromartie didn't want to delay too long. The possibility of the Connors fortifying was too great a risk. And there was still much to be done.
Turning, he stood before a door leading to the blood bank. Further down the hall he heard someone telling him to stop. Cromartie ignored him and forced his way through. He didn't make it far into the room until a man in scrubs quickly entered.
"What do you-" He was unable to finish his sentence before the terminator's fist hit his face. Cromartie's CPU took note of the man's skull caving as the body was thrown through the door and across the hall. He looked at the corpse briefly to confirm the man was dead before turning to analyze the blood in storage. He would need O positive.
Finding the correct blood type he broke open the storage unit and extracted the packets of blood. He set the tray holding the blood on a nearby counter before grabbing a transport cooler and opening the lid to ensure it was filled with ice to keep the blood cool. Seeing everything was in order he loaded the blood and exited the room.
"Stop!" A voice yelled. Cromartie turned around and caved in the skull of this new obstacle. He noted the individual as a security guard and glanced at the man's gun before turning around and walking away. A gun would be advisable when he began hunting John Connor, but for now it wasn't necessary. His hands would do.
XxXxXxXxX
It hadn't taken Sarah long to find Andy Goode. The Resistance fighters made sure of that having been watching him for some time before their untimely death. The same could be said for quite a few of the names on the list. However Sarah didn't know how they were connected to SKYNET, she couldn't say the same for Andy. He had past connections with both Cyberdyne and Miles Dyson. Still, she was having a hard time seeing how the poor cell phone salesman had any possible means of building a machine that would destroy the world. Her doubts were so strong that she found herself looking at Andy a bit too blatantly turning her intentions from scoping him out to Close Encounters of the Goode Kind.
'That sounded a little too creepy.' She thought as Andy approached.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"No. Just looking…Andy." She answered making a show of looking at his nametag.
"Ok, cause you kept looking over like you needed something."
Sarah shook her head to try and enforce her point of not needing any help. If Andy got the message, he didn't show it.
"That's the phone." He said gesturing to the device in her hands. "Seriously, if I was gonna be alone on a deserted island with only a phone for a companion that would be the phone."
"Is that something you would do?" Sarah asked. If he couldn't take a hint, maybe making him look like an idiot could. Andy just laughed.
"May I?" He asked, taking the phone. "Its got a four-meg camera, texting. True texting, not that SMS cartoon-bubble junk. Three-G data access, ten gigs free for music, six hours of talk time and a thirty-six hour standby on your battery."
Sarah stared at the device with a hidden look of shock and confusion. What the hell happened to cell phones in the last eight years? Better yet, why would anyone need the equivalent of a technological Swiss army knife? Taking the phone back from Andy, she asked. "What happens if I press these numbers here?"
"Excuse me?" He asked, not quite comprehending where she was going.
"These numbers right here, zero through nine. If I press seven of them will someone talk through the ear piece up here?"
Sarah always wondered where John got his sarcasm from, being completely ignorant of her own.
"Uh…yeah." Andy answered unsure.
"Okay I'll take three."
Dealing with Andy during the time it took to get the phones set up irritated Sarah. The whole purpose of her visit was for light reconnaissance and after having been engaged in conversation with her target, she found herself guilty of one of the things she constantly harped on John about; drawing attention to yourself. All she wanted to do now was put some distance between her and her target. Unfortunately the powers-that-be didn't get the memo.
As Sarah was walking away from the store the ringing of a cell phone gave her pause. She looked around before realizing the ringing was coming from within the bag she had just left the store with. Digging into it, she located the ringing phone and answered it hesitantly while entering her truck, "…Hello?"
"Hi." The cheerful voice of Andy Goode responded.
"Are you calling me?" She questioned in disbelief. What the hell was wrong with this guy?
"Uh, I was just following up to make sure everything's okay with the phone." He replied. Sarah checked her rearview mirror and saw Andy's approach.
"I just left the store." She deadpanned.
"I know." He said before hanging up, having reached her truck. He walked over to the passenger side and rested his arms on the door since the window had been rolled down.
"You wanna have dinner tonight?" He abruptly asked.
"No."
"Well you answered too quickly." The guy was either incredibly dense or incredibly persistent. "Just give me one minute…" Sarah gave him a 'no' look. "…Thirty seconds?"
"Talk fast." She said finally conceding.
"Okay, well first let me clear up the whole desert-island-and-a-cell-phone thing. It seems kind of strange if you picture it-"
"I wasn't." She said cutting him off and making him look foolish once more.
"Right, of course. Why would you?" He said unfazed by her comment. "It's an asinine sales pitch really. There's nowhere to plug it in. It would be worth less than a rock when the battery died. Couldn't even use it to open a coconut."
"This is you selling yourself?" She asked sounding unimpressed.
"Selling myself? I don't know. There's something immoral about the whole selling process."
Oh goody, the guy has a sense of humor. Maybe he's not a lost cause after all.
"And yet, that's your job."
"I'm part-time. And I'm not very good at it." He explained. "So I'm actually less immoral than the average-" Andy stopped midsentence when he realized he was rambling. "Anyway. Um…where was I?"
Sarah couldn't help but smile. Despite her initial thoughts, she couldn't help but find his innocent school-boy actions to be…cute, for a lack of better word. She couldn't even recall the last time a guy tried so hard to ask her out. Especially since Charlie had more tact and confidence.
"You're right." She said deciding to throw the guy a bone.
"Huh? Right? …About what?" He asked, startled by her sudden change of heart.
Sarah gave him a warm smile. "I answered too quickly."
Andy's face lit up and she couldn't help but smile a bit wider. Worse came to worse, at least she would learn more about Andy Goode and determine if he was a threat or not.
XxXxXxXxX
John leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms over his head. Bringing his hands down he took a moment to rub his eyes before checking the time. Realizing it was nearly one in the afternoon he pushed his chair back and stood up. He and Cameron had gone to the library to work on his hacking. Or to be more precise, he worked on hacking while Cameron read books. Occasionally he would ask for her help, but for the most part he worked by himself. Shutting the laptop down and putting it away, he walked over to the ever-so quiet terminator. They had arrived at 8:30 in the morning and after a brief run-through, she had left him alone to quietly work. In the past five hours he had only managed to make it through three of the eight simulations.
'Computers have really become a bitch to hack.' He thought tiredly. Cameron closed her book and looked up at him expectantly. She said nothing as she waited for him to speak.
"I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat."
"I don't eat."
"You don't eat, you don't sleep. How do you fool anyone?"
"I fooled you." She said, as if to defend her skills as an infiltrator.
"I fooled myself," John replied, unconsciously taking a hard tone with the terminator. Realizing how harsh his words came out, he quickly changed gears and cheerfully repeated, "Let's go eat."
XxXxXxXxX
Agent Ellison made his way up the driveway of his contact's nephew, Carlos. He knew he was putting himself at risk entering a bad neighborhood and being a government official, but if he was going to piece together the little mystery Enrique left him, he would have to get all the information he could get his hands on. So far that information was fairly limited. All the evidence he found so far only left him with more questions and no answers.
Enrique said he had a very nice bit of info for him, something worth a lot of money and by the way he phrased his message, of great personal interest. Sadly there were no details hinting at what that something might be. That was definitely like his contact. Enrique was a major criminal supplier long before he was an informant. History had taught him how to conduct business with the maximum amount of return.
But now he was dead, killed by a gun that was responsible for three seemingly unrelated deaths across town. Ellison highly doubted those men were the "product" Enrique had been hinting at. As Simpson had said, they were nobodies. They were of no interest to him. Then again, who were they and what connected them aside from being killed by the same weapon?
There was only one possible lead left to him, which brought him full-circle as to why he was in gang territory. Enrique and contacted his nephew quite a few times the day before and the day of his death. Ellison knew of Carlos, of course. Carlos provided Enrique's "product" with incriminating evidence. Because of this relationship the FBI would turn a blind-eye to Carlos's involvement. All in the name of the "Greater Good".
'Yeah right,' He thought with disgust. Eight years ago when he had been chasing Sarah Connor and her son John he believed in the "Greater Good", but events surrounding that investigation gave him pause and as the years drove on he started to resent the idea of committing minor sins for a better tomorrow. Sins were sins and regardless of the reason behind them, that never changed.
When the Connors were declared deceased, that was it as far as the FBI cared. Two dangerous criminals were dead, mission accomplished. They didn't even think twice about the robot-legged shooter at the high school, the dead school teacher with the broken neck, or how a bank vault was practically vaporized. Not to mention the metal vault door that seemed to have been ripped off by the Hulk.
But none of that mattered to them. "Don't worry about the little details Ellison. Just be glad they're out of your hair". But he couldn't do that…wouldn't do that. He found it highly ironic that the subject of Sarah Connor's insanity happened to be seen by no less than ten people. So either there was some validity to her ravings or everyone in Red Valley had been high on crack. Sadly he was unable to find anything related to the shooter in Red Valley and suggesting that Sarah Connor may not have been completely nuts didn't really fly well with his superiors.
'Focus!' He commanded. Sarah and John Connor were dead. Had been for eight years. He had long since given up on solving their puzzle. His attention was needed in the present, not the past.
As he neared the house he saw a Spanish girl and large tattooed man standing by the door. No doubt they were keeping an eye out. Both for him and any possible attempts at a set-up. The girl opened the door to the house and led the way inside.
The house's interior was exactly how he imagined it, mildly messing and teaming with Carlos's men. In the kitchen he saw one of the residents cleaning a handgun. Nothing illegal and he couldn't see any ammo laying around, not that he expected to. The message was clear however; you are not in control. Carlos sat in the middle of a sofa with his arms hanging off the back with four men flanking him, two on either side. Once more showing Ellison who was in charge.
Ellison took a seat in a single chair resting right in front of Carlos. He didn't once question the strange layout of the furniture. A brief glance on either side showed two more men moving to take position in his blind spot. He was now completely surrounded. The room filled with a tense silence before he spoke. "So.-"
"So." Carlos mimicked. It was time to get this conversation underway.
"Like I said on the phone, your sweet Uncle Enrique lived a colorful life. One we have not yet painted in full." Ellison started. None of this information was new to either party, but it was a necessary formality to keep up the illusion of a simple conversation.
"You grow apart. Every day's a new adventure. Who can keep up?" Was the reply he received. Carlos was making it clear this conversation was of little value or interest to him.
Ellison took a moment to consider his words before continuing. "I got an uncle who's like a father. I also got one who is like a stranger. How bout you two?"
"More like an aunt. Chatty, chatty."
The two laughed, but it was clear in their eyes that neither found the comment funny.
"All right. So you're not too close." He relented before moving to the heart of the topic. "But he did call you a number of times before his death. Two the day before and one the day of. What did you chat about?"
Carlos shrugged before answering. "Those Lakers."
"Really?" He asked with a smile, feigning interest. "What about them?"
"Kobe. He's the bomb."
"I always thought he was a ball hog." He responded dropping his smile. With Carlos refusing to be forthcoming he would have to take a gamble and try antagonizing him.
"He's all alone, man. He's got no one else who can shoot." The tone in his voice told Ellison that Carlos was detecting the change of flow in their conversation.
"Is that you, Carlos?" He questioned. "Now that your uncle's dead? You all alone."
And thus started the conversation's move into metaphors. The translation; Now that your uncle is dead are you the last criminal supplier for the family?
"Yeah." Carlos answered truthfully, yet vaguely. If the FBI agent was willing to play such a dangerous game, he'd best be reminded of the rules. "But it ain't so bad. All these boys can shoot, see?" Silence took hold of the room once more. It was almost suffocating. Carlos pushed his back of the sofa and leaned forward. "I didn't kill my uncle."
Ellison believed him. "No. And you're too smart to know nothing about who did." Standing up he reached into his coat and noticed one of the guards move to intercept. He paused a moment to calm the man down before producing a business card and handing it to him. Glancing back over at Carlos, he said. "I'll be in touch."
A lie, but when the just and unjust sit down to talk most everything they do and say to each other is.
Carlos watched as Ellison left. He had to admit his uncle's death had been unexpected, but there was no love lost. Truth be told, he had a strong dislike for the man. Having a relative that was a rat for the government was bad for business. With him out of the way, things would be much simpler and more profitable. Still, that hadn't stopped him from considering the idea of giving the Connor-bitch up to the feds. It was tempting, but he knew it would have been a bad move on his part. Not only would he have betrayed a customer, but he would end up inheriting his uncle's title as a rat. As much as he hated her smug attitude and the way she talked down to him, he couldn't help but feel her words ring true. Screwing your consumers over was bad for business.
XxXxXxXxX
It was later that afternoon when John and Cameron walked home. He hadn't gotten much further in his hacking due to the more complex simulations requiring a CYAP. When Cameron asked what a CYAP was, he answered with "Cover-Your-Ass-Program". In short, it was really nothing more than a shield meant to thwart any attempts at tracking the hacker, a counter-measure. It wouldn't be the only thing he needed to hack into the higher level sims, but it would be one of the more crucial elements.
Progress aside, he had managed to pass what Cameron called his "first test". John still snickered at that. Her idea of a "first test" was for him to hack into the school database and reset her schedule so that it mirrored his own. He did it of course. Cromartie did a great job showing just how easy it was for a terminator to waltz right in the classroom and put a bullet in your head. Besides a bodyguard was only useful if they were less than five feet from you.
However, hacking a system after only a few hours of practice was incredibly risky. Which was why they did it within the bounds of the school's wireless network. Should they have been caught it would register as happening within the school grounds and more importantly, in the school itself. They would search every computer on campus not thinking the attempt came from a laptop. This also had the benefit of putting them near the school. A definite plus should his mother consider an impromptu pickup. Which was entirely possible considering who said mother was. Fortunately or unfortunately depending on the frame of reference, she didn't come to pick them up.
'Leaving the two of us to walk home. Ode to joy.' John sarcastically thought. He considered walking for a good portion of the day as something that should be done in moderation. Right up there with running for your life and thinking dirty thoughts whilst staring at certain parts of your robotic bodyguard as she walked in front of you. He started to let his eyes drift down, but quickly brought them back up. Moderation was good. It allowed you to appreciate the quiet times in life as well as the level of enjoyment to be found when gawking.
Cameron looked over her shoulder at him. She would do so periodically to ensure he was close by and safe. They locked eyes briefly before she looked forward once more. She had only caught him staring twice, not that it mattered. He was acting his age as far as her programming cared.
John frowned. Had Cameron been a normal girl she would have said something. Whether that would be a positive or negative response was forever in the air, but he had a feeling it would lean more towards negative. While he felt it was safe to assume that most girls don't mind an appreciative stare there was always a line between okay, enough, and too much. Reflecting on the past few days, he felt he was probably in the realm of creepy stalker. Not that any of it mattered! Cameron never reacted! And so any and all experience he would ever have with the opposite sex would continue committing suicide.
'I'm gonna be a virgin for the rest of my life.' He thought dejectedly. Looking at Cameron's back, he felt his gaze harden. 'If I ever meet my future-self I'm kicking him in the balls. Provided they haven't shriveled up and died from lack of use.'
His vow made, he continued following her past the gate, through the front yard, and into the house. Cameron walked passed his mother without saying a word, not really surprising given the fact that they had rehearsed their story during lunch.
"How was school?" Sarah asked. She didn't even bother glancing at Cameron as she passed.
"Oh it was just great." John drawled. He knew if he failed to respond without a convincing level of sarcasm his mother would be suspicious. "Nothing prepares you for a future war with machines better than Intro to World History and Writing Workshop. I tell ya with my awesome high school education I might just be able to end the war by submitting a five-page essay on the negative effects of war as seen in history to SKYNET."
"John, I know you feel like you're wasting your time, but how can you expect to lead anyone without any people skills?"
"I figured I'd stick with what I know best. Stay an outcast and lie my ass off." Oh the irony of that last sentence.
Sarah was unperturbed by her son's comment. However, she knew a dead end when she saw one so she tried a different route. "Meet any pretty girls?"
'This is working out better than I had hoped.' He thought before answering his mother. "I try not to. The last pretty girl I met turned out to be a pretty robot."
John saw his mother flinch slightly and knew she was going to drop the topic altogether. He was hoping to dodge her interrogations to avoid suspicion. Ironically, when he considered the ease in which he deflected all her questions he couldn't help but feel his own suspicions arise. 'She's distracted by something.'
"So, how was your day? Any leads?" He questioned casually.
"Actually, yes." Sarah said as she reached for Andy's picture. She had set it aside so she could inform her son when he got home. Handing him the picture, she explained. "His name is Andy Goode and he was an intern at Cyberdyne. Tarissa said Miles liked him, so there is a connection there. Whether or not it's anything major is still unknown."
"Great. So when do we start?"
"We aren't starting anything." Sarah stated. When she saw her son's frown she felt it best to elaborate. "I'm not cutting you out John. It's just when I went to scout him out I ended up drawing his attention. One thing led to another and…well, he asked me out."
"Asked you out? …Like on a date?"
"Yes, like a date."
"Is he mentally insecure or something?" John asked with a mischievous smile and a deadly serious voice. Sarah was about to hit her son, when Cameron walked in.
"He may have a thing for much older women." The cyborg deadpanned.
Sarah furiously glared at the terminator, but recognized her son's influence. "You're teaching her to be a sarcastic smart-ass!?"
Cameron cut John off before he could answer. "Riling you up is my God-given right as a teenager."
XxXxXxXxX
Cromartie busied himself with writing the complex formula for the skin compound SKYNET used for its infiltrators. It was one of the few things machines took with them when they made the jump to the past. In a world dominated by humanity, knowing how to create the tools to blend in was crucial.
A faint groan from behind him alerted Cromartie that the unconscious scientists, whose home he broke into was awakening. No matter, he was nearly finished with the formula. What would follow upon its completion would be a brief interrogation focusing on whether the human in question could create the compound necessary. If they couldn't they would be terminated and he would move on. A brief subroutine reminded the machine of the human saying "third time's a charm". Had he a face accompanied with emotions he might have smiled.
XxXxXxXxX
Chinese food and cheap wine. Not that that meant much to Sarah, she'd experienced worse. Hell, John would consider that a five-star meal. Though if she ever caught him drinking alcohol she'd doom the world after killing him. But that was getting off topic.
That was what her dinner with Andy consisted off. Take-out and poor quality drinks in the hopes of sustaining a somewhat romantic atmosphere. At least, she assumed that was what he was going for. If he had more nefarious deeds in mind he'd need a lot more going for him and a much harder drink. Looking at him from across the table she doubted he had it in him.
"So what's your deal, Andy? I can't imagine you majored in cell phone sales in college." She started, hoping to lead him into giving away information she was truly interested in.
"No. No. More like Funyuns and 12 packs of Jolt from the vintage soda store while my roommates and I hacked "Zelda 3" So the princess would say funny lines ripped from television reruns." He answered trying to be humorous.
"What's that language you speak, boy?" She asked playing along. All things "hacking" were part of John's world and the fact that Andy used it was a frightening aspect in and of itself.
"Computer science. Caltech…Advanced Dork."
"And what would you do with a computer degree from Caltech?" More computers, less dork.
"I don't know. I never got one." He answered wistfully.
"Really?" Sarah asked in surprise. Andy was looking less and less like Miles Dyson. How could someone like Andy possibly be capable of building SKYNET. Then again, in those brief hours she got to know Miles, she had started wondering the same with him as well.
"My father died senior year. Mom went a little off the rails and I dropped out to help."
"I'm sorry." She said sincerely. If anyone knew what it was like to lose someone close, it was her.
"Eh, it was a long time ago, but thanks anyway." He replied trying to brush it off, but she knew better. Time dulled the ache, it never went away. Wanting to change the topic, Andy added. "She's good. She married the security guard at her bank."
Sarah stood up from the table and started to wander into the next room. She was fairly certain Andy wasn't a threat, but she needed to do a little more investigating to be sure.
"Do you have family?" She heard him ask from the table.
Sarah nodded. "Distant."
That was a lie of course. Her son hardly counted as distant family. However, she had learned earlier in life how mentioning she was a single mother tended to scare men off. Few people were ever comfortable with raising someone else's child.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but as a cell phone salesman I think I can ask. Did you ever wanna be anything other than a waitress?"
Another nod, "I did."
"What was it?"
She thought back trying to recall the memory. Looking down she sadly answered, "I can't remember." Looking up she noticed a poster on the wall, the image on it rocked her to her core. "What's this, Andy?"
"Oh, isn't it great?" He asked excitedly. "That is the official promotional poster for the Kramnik-Deep Fritz match. Awesome match. Just awesome. Most people cite the '97 Kasparov-Deep Blue as the watershed man-versus-machine chess match. But, uh, Fritz would have wiped the floor with Blue just like Kramnik did with Kasparov. Besides, the other poster's impossible to find."
"What is it you do, Andy?" Sarah asked with a kind smile. That damn child-like innocence he gave off was hard to not like.
"Do you wanna see?" He questioned with mirth.
Sometimes it was annoying.
"Yes, I wanna see." She answered trying not to show her impatience.
"All right…behold." He said opening a closet door. "The Turk."
Sarah's mind went straight to red alert. The computer set-up in the closet was eerily reminiscent to the set-up Miles Dyson had at his house.
"The Turk?" She managed to get out. If Andy noticed the strain in her voice, he didn't show it.
"Well, not the original Turk. The original Turk was an automaton constructed and unveiled in 1770 by the Baron Wolfgang von Kempelen. It played chess."
"Is that what your Turk does? It plays chess?" She pressed. Nothing scaring about playing a board game, right?
"I know that sounds boring as hell. Most people think so. But maybe I should put it this way: My Turk plays chess at a level that could defeat every human player that has ever lived and probably ever will live. That's not bragging. A number of AIs can do that now. But the AI chess platform is very valuable for artificial intelligence developers."
Sarah was partially following along before she noticed something. A nearby mirror hanging on the wall was angled just enough for her to see the outside window. And outside she saw someone peeking through the glass.
Andy seemed to notice her posture change. "What?"
"I thought I saw someone outside." She said before making her way to the back door. Whoever it was it was, they were human. A machine would have just broken down the door. She stepped out into the cool night air and looked around from the front porch, but she saw no one. Whoever she saw, they were either really quick or they were hiding. As she went back inside she saw Andy on the phone. Quickly deducing that he was talking to the police, she decided it was time to go.
"I have to go, Andy." She said grabbing her things and rushing to the front door.
"No, Sarah, wait." Andy called out assuming she was frightened. He quickly wrapped things up on the phone, but it was too late. Sarah was already gone.
(End of Chapter 5)
Alright all sorts of fun in this chapter, not so much in the next given what happens. As I said last chapter, John's character will begin to change from there on. And while it may not be noticeable, I've set things up like game of Jenga so those changes can noticeably start next chapter. I tried channeling how I felt Sarah would view Andy in this chapter. I know she warms up to him, but at the start of episode 3 she seemed split between annoyance and endearing. A few minor notes, John's inability to explain how he feels about Cameron will be explained next chapter and the "right good" line is an intentional typo because of it being a narrative of his thoughts.