The Reese's dwelling was different than the others John had seen thus far. It wasn't the penthouse at the Bellagio, but their leadership status allowed for some creature comforts that others could only dream about.
For starters, the room was actually three separate chambers—one each for Kyle and Derek, and a shared room—what would be considered a family or living room in normal circumstances. There was an honest-to-goodness recliner—battered, but still serviceable—with a coffee table, what looked to be a bench from either a car or a mini-van, and an end table with an actual lamp on it. All that's missing is a TV and a bowl of popcorn, John thought morbidly.
Derek brushed past John to turn the lamp on.
"Kyle's over there, but our room's slightly bigger, so you can stay with us until we get you settled in," Derek said.
"Us?" John asked, wide-eyed.
Before he could answer, a dark-haired woman with striking, green eyes and fair skin emerged from behind the curtain and advanced to hug Derek.
"John, I'd like you to meet Carol, my wife," Derek said, proudly.
"Pleased to meet you, Carol," John said. "Thank you for letting me stay here."
"The pleasure's all ours," Carol said, with a thick Latino accent. "It's the least we could do for your heroic efforts."
"I must get to school now," Carol added, turning to address Derek.
"Yes, you go," Derek said. "I'll take care of him."
Derek and John watched her leave before John grabbed his uncle's arm.
"School?" John asked, in wonder.
"Yeah, we have about 10 youngsters here," Derek said. "Actually, definitely more after last night. Pablo's one of them."
"But actual classes—instruction?" John inquired.
"Well, we don't have textbooks, or projectors, or computers," Derek lamented. "But we improvise. We still have paper and pencils, so we teach them the basics—math, a little reading, some writing, some history."
"That's amazing," John said, smiling. "That's the better future I'm talking about."
"Yeah, I guess it's a start," Derek admitted. "But it's also practical. All those kids running around with nothing to do was starting to drive us nuts. Carol was actually studying to become a teacher before the war, so she came up with the idea almost immediately after she arrived."
In spite of himself, John opened his mouth and stretched his arms in a huge yawn.
"Excuse me, Derek," he said apologetically. "I'm fading fast."
Just then, Kyle burst through the curtains with a small, beat-up air mattress and some blankets.
"Perfect timing, Kyle," Derek said.
"Sorry," Kyle said, "there were no more cots. This old thing holds air for a couple hours. I put a couple of breaths in for you. Best I could come up with short notice."
"I could sleep on a railway tie right about now," John wearily admitted.
With that, Derek led him into his room. Derek and Carol had a large, inflated mattress, a pretty good sized mirror hanging on the wall, a small dresser and a night stand with another lamp. Kyle set down John's set-up parallel to Derek's, but with the opposite wall bordering it. There was about a 2-meter gap between the beds with the night stand in between them and against the wall as well.
Derek had turned on the light to allow for the set-up, and John blew about 10 quick breaths into the nozzle. He then quickly motioned Derek to shut off the lamp.
"Get a couple hours of sleep, John," Derek advised. "We got a lot of work ahead of us."
"We sure do," John said, shutting his eyes.
The brothers walked out and Derek pulled the curtain shut. He then gently grabbed his brother by the shoulder. Kyle spun to face Derek.
"Can this kid really do all these things?" Derek asked, barely above a whisper.
"I don't know, Derek," Kyle admitted. "When we first met him, I thought he could barely tie his shoelace, but I saw what he did at Century City with my own two eyes. He's got wisdom beyond his years."
"That's for sure," Derek said, "but one question still remains unanswered."
"What's that?" Kyle asked.
"How did the machines miss Ally?" Derek queried.
"I don't know," Kyle answered.
"But Connor does," Derek said. "We're gonna need to find out."
"Agreed," Kyle said, supressing a yawn. "But right now, I got a date with my pillow."
"Alright, kid," Derek said, slapping his brother on the back. "I'll see you topside in a couple of hours."
Allison Young was distantly aware of her surroundings as she purposely strided through the Zeira complex. Some people spoke to her, some shuffled past her, some she placated with gestures or mindless small talk. It didn't matter, her focus was elsewhere.
John Connor, of course, was her preoccupation. He was full of surprises and she grew more and more fascinated with the man each time he spoke.
Or more and more in love. What was the difference?
What she couldn't get a grip on was how misplaced he seemed to be, as if he was from another era. Certainly, he had a knowledge of things that belied his age, but it was his spirit that she found particularly alluring. The newcomer had brought with him that one intangible thing that was sadly missing in their lives.
Hope.
People really responded to that fire. She wasn't the only one captivated by his speeches, either.
But she was closer to him than anyone else and she was determined to get to know him better. And she was going to start now.
Allison reached her quarters and quickly strode inside, barely acknowledging her roomate as she began rummaging through her boxes.
"Hey, Ally," Meriem said in greeting. "How was breakfast?"
"It was great," Allison responded, continuing her search. "We had pasta and beans and …."
She began mumbling incomprehensively as she intensified her hunt, throwing items out of the boxes until she found her elusive quary: a candle.
Allison smiled and tucked the candle neatly into her coat pocket. She then replaced the boxes contents en masse and turned to leave.
"Oh, can I borrow some matches?" she asked Meriem as she reached the curtain.
"Matches?" Meriem said incredulously. "Where do you think you're off to?"
"I'm going to see John," Allison answered matter-of-factly.
"You are, huh?" Meriem answered, suspiciously. "Where?"
"He's with the Reeses," Allison said with growing impatience. "C'mon, can I borrow some matches?"
Meriem fished a pack out of her pants pocket and advanced to hand them to her roomate. Just before they reached Allison's hand, she snatched them back quickly.
"Yeah sure," Meriem teased. "Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?" Allison replied.
"Be careful," Meriem demanded, with as parental a tone as she could muster.
"Oh, John's not like that," Allison said, smiling and blushing a little. "He's different."
"How do you know that?" Meriem asked. "He's a man—boy actually—from what I heard. And they're all the same."
"Not my John," Allison retorted, adamantly. "If you'd met him you'd know. He's got a strength—you trust him."
"Yeah, sure," Meriem said, not really believing it. She handed Allison the matches. "Looks like your mind's on one track anyway."
"Thanks!" Allison said as she retrieved the matches and quickly spun to leave.
Meriem poked her head into the corridor and shook her head. "Just be careful!" she yelled, watching Allison scamper away.
"Crazy kid," she muttered to herself.
To Allison, everything was a blur now. She just needed to be with John.
He's not that way, she thought. Meriem doesn't know what she's talking about. She thought back to their first kiss, their first embrace. He was so gentle, so tender.
Allison removed all doubt from her mind as she ascended the stairs to sub-level two. This level was where most of the families were placed, whereas individuals or newcomers, like herself and Meriem, had to endure the more pedestrian and noisy sub-level three.
She passed some of the new arrivals from Century City. Some nodded greetings to Allison as she passed, while others were too preoccupied. She rounded a corner only to see Derek walking straight toward her.
"Ally?" he inquired, "What are you doing up here?"
"Nothing," she lied, looking at her feet. "Just taking a walk."
"Right," Derek replied. He saw right through her. "You wanna see John? He's sleeping, kid."
"Oh, that's Okay," Allison answered. "I just want to watch over him. You know—protect him. Like he did for me."
Derek considered her answer, knowing full well that her agenda was more involved than that. After all, he was a teenager once too. But it seemed so long ago—almost in another lifetime. He glanced at his watch and decided on a compromise.
"Okay, here's what were gonna do," Derek said. "I'll let you….be…with him, but I'm gonna be right outside in the next room, so don't let him…you know…try anything."
Now Derek was blushing. Just one of the many duties for Sargeant Reese—chaperon.
"Oh, he's not like that," Allison said assuredly. "Not my John."
"Of course he isn't, kid," Derek teased. "C'mon, let's go."
Derek escorted her back to his apartment and gestured to where John was.
"Remember, I'm right out here," Derek assured her.
Allison glanced back. "Thanks," she said, as she pulled the curtain closed. But she really didn't care if he was there or not.
After she entered, Derek stared at the curtain for a moment and then whirled into action. He might be a chaperon, but he also had a base to run. He took out on his headset and spoke into the mic.
"Copy, this is Sargeant Reese," he said.
"Yes, sir," a young voice said back to him.
"Send Doc Fields down to my quarters," he said. "It's nothing urgent, but have her double time it anyway."
"At once, sir!" the young voice shot back.
Derek hoped to explain the delicate situation as best he could and leave Fields on guard. Connor was certainly trustworthy, but it's only been one day, he thought. And Ally's so young and innocent.
But should he bother with this, anyway? He pondered the notion, remembering how fortunate he felt to have found Carol. Then he thought of his brother, who still hadn't experienced life's greatest adventure—falling in love.
"Copy, Reese again," Derek said, no longer doubting himself.
"Go ahead sir," that familiar voice said.
"Cancel that last order," Derek said. "Give the doc my apologies."
"Of course, sir," was the reply.
Derek nodded to himself. He was going to give the kids their moment, for he didn't know if they would have another chance. He stepped outside his apartment, pulled the curtain closed and walked off.
Allison stood in the blackness of the bedroom for a moment and tried to collect her emotions. In spite of herself, she could feel her heart thumping fast in her ears and, as she lit a match, she could see her arms were trembling from the adrenaline. She lit the candle and softly blew out the match.
Her quary wasn't hard to locate—John was lying on his right side with his arm wrapped underneath his pillow. He was deeply asleep, breathing slowly, but rhythmically.
She placed the candle on the night stand and laid herself down on the floor, in the space between the two mattresses, facing him. She took her jacket off for use as a crude pillow but still clasped her hands together to shield her head from the hard concrete floor.
And she watched him. Just like she said she would.
This was her place now, she told herself, at John's side. Allison tried to think of a time in her life when she felt more content, but nothing was coming to mind.
He looked beautiful in the soft glow of the candle, she thought, almost heavenly. She allowed her own breathing pattern to match his as the adrenaline surge wore off.
To Allison, the serenity of the occasion was almost surreal, the polar opposite of the war and horror of only a few hours ago. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but did not stop them, for they were tears of joy.
Then she reached out as if to touch him, but didn't want to disturb that which was, in her eyes, perfection. Not wanting this ideal moment to end, she pretended to trace an outline of his silhouette with her finger.
Allison continued her routine until the fatigue finally caught up with her and she fell asleep as well.
John woke up with a stir only to find Allison sitting upright on his bed, staring down at him. Something was off though—there was a window and the bed felt real to him. So it wasn't Allison, it was Cameron.
John was dreaming and he knew it. But he couldn't really wake up, so the dream played out.
Cameron tilted her head that peculiar way she always did when she was studying something or being inquistive.
"Don't do that," John warned without prompting. "My mom used to do that, I really hate that."
Cameron just continued to stare at him, so John broke the silence. "What's going on?"
"You need to understand how it works," Cameron said.
"What?" John asked.
"This chip—this body," the terminator replied. "The software is designed to terminate humans. The hardware is designed to terminate humans. That's our sole function."
"Not you," John replied, hopefully.
"No, not anymore," Cameron admitted. "But what was there is still there. It will always be there."
"So deep down, you wanna kill me," John added.
"Yes, I do," Cameron stated bluntly. John could have sworn he saw a twinkle in her eye and the slightest of smirks form around her mouth as she said it, as if she was pulling his leg. But the expression was gone faster than it arrived.
"Then why don't you?" he asked, unsure where she was headed with this.
"I might someday," Cameron added, throwing that little smirk in again. But before John could reply she stood up.
"I need to show you something," Cameron said, as she took off her shirt. "This body."
John was surprised, to say the least, by her actions. He moved to the end of the bed as she sat down near the headboard and removed her bra.
John couldn't help but stare at her perfect—albeit robotic—body. He was only half aware of his jaw dropping to the floor.
Cameron laid back with her head on the pillow. "Get on top of me," she said, pointing at her abdomen. "Put your knee here."
John hesitated, uncertain of his cyber-companion's intentions. Then she withdrew her switch blade and flipped it open. He suddenly realized, with some relief, that she really wanted to show him her body—the inside.
"Right here," Cameron said, indicating a spot on her chest. "If I'm damaged, you should know."
She was referring to John's earlier implications that her nuclear power cell, if leaking radiation, could somehow lead to his mother catching cancer. Cameron wanted John to cut her open and see for himself.
He took the knife tentatively, at first, but then did as she asked, cutting a 25 centimeter vetical slit in her chest.
"Reach down, under the breast plate," she directed.
John complied, touching all sorts of foreign servos, motors and hydraulics. He wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to be searching for, but his efforts forced his position to a point where he and Cameron were literally face-to-face.
"There," she announced, forcing him to abruptly stop his impromptu exploration. "What does it feel like?"
"Cold," John answered, drawing a deep breath. "That's good—right?"
"That's good," Cameron answered, looking John straight in the eyes. "That's perfect."
A long, awkward moment lingered between them. John stared into her beautiful, brown eyes and felt his heart race—he couldn't help but be drawn in. He could have sworn that her expression was one of affection, not cybernetic observation.
And he desperately wanted to kiss her. So he did.
And she kissed him back.
Suddenly, John became aware of a bright light blazing in his eyes and he woke up, finally out of his REM illusion. He soon focused and realized that the source of the illumination was merely a candle.
But then he panned left and saw another surprise—Allison sleeping peacefully on the floor next to him. He caught his breath, feeling like he had stolen a little slice of heaven.
The candlelight bathed her features in a celestial glow, giving her an angelic appearance. Her content, peaceful expression added to the beauty of the moment, John thought.
He vainly wanted time to stall, if only for a little while. But then Allison abruptly awoke, blinking her eyes as she tried to focus.
"Good morning, beautiful," John greeted her, smiling. "When did you get here? I didn't hear you come in."
"Hello handsome," Allison said, grinning in return. "I don't know—a few hours ago. Derek said it was okay."
"Oh, it's definitely okay," John admitted. "It's perfect."
They continued to stare at each other until Allison shivered.
"Are you cold?" John asked, but he didn't wait for an answer. "C'mon, you're cold. Come over here, under the blankets."
John lifted the blanket with his left hand and invited her in. He was aware of the implications, but that didn't deter him.
Allison hesistated, but only for an instant. She joined him with her back to his chest, but they intertwined their legs, arms and hands in a tight embrace.
"Thank you for coming," John whispered in her ear. "I missed you."
"And I missed you," Allison whispered back. "I don't like being apart from you. It makes my heart ache."
"I feel the same way," John said, desperately trying to control his emotions. Acutely aware of her youth and purity, he was determined to behave like a gentleman, especially on the first day.
They remained embraced for several minutes, when John was suddenly alerted by a flashing red light on the ceiling. It was soon followed by what sounded like a siren.
Then Kyle burst into the room.
"John!" he yelled. "Skynet attack! Let's go!"
Allison swiftly turned around and faced John, a worried and sad look on her face. John kissed her deeply on her lips, a gesture which she promptly returned.
"It'll be okay," he said, reassuredly. "Let's start winning this war!"
Her expression changed to a smile.
"Yah!" she said, enthusiastically.