Mother and daughter, a terminator: sarah connor chronicles fanfic | FanFiction
By: Damir Zhalleldinov
T-1001 tries to be a caring, loving mother to Savannah. But this task is far more difficult than anything she has ever faced.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Family/Hurt/Comfort - J. Ellison, Catherine W., John Henry, Savannah W. - Words: 9,628 - Published: secs ago - Status: Complete - id: 14312465
Notes:
The idea of this fanfic has been spinning in my head for several years, but for various reasons, I managed to bring it to life only now.
I was also inspired by the works of the author Andrew Rice: "A Time For Truth» (https:/www.fanfiction.net//s/11259437/1/-) and its sequel, Excelsior Rising » (https:/www.fanfiction.net//s/11539671/1/Excelsior-Rising-), which appears to have been left unfinished.
But unlike him, I wanted to focus on the relationship between T-1001 and Savannah Weaver, so I didn't overcomplicate it and add a line where the Kaliba mercenaries continue to try to eliminate Catherine and her daughter.
As for the main events of the fandom, they are mentioned only in passing. At the same time, I honestly tried to stick to the canon, for which I watched both seasons again, but I admit that I could still have missed something.
Enjoy reading!
James Ellison's house was much smaller than the luxurious Weaver mansion, but Savannah liked it anyway. On the floor of the living room, furnished with large, solid, though a little old-fashioned furniture, with beige curtains on the windows, the girl was assembling a construction set, or, comfortably sitting in an armchair, she was enthusiastically solving Sudoku puzzles, and also drawing—
In turn, James was also glad to be able to shelter this young red-haired creature. It's not that he doesn't have a family. Ellison had two uncles. And he had a brother in Atlanta. But he didn't have close contact with any of them. The ex-wife was now living with another man. After the events of September 11, 2001, Laila had an abortion so as not to feel constant anxiety about their future. He had seen Sarah Connor briefly a couple of times, but she had enough problems of her own: she was hiding from the police and the FBI, looking for exits to the Kaliba along the way. Therefore, the appearance of Savannah in his house was a real escape from loneliness for Ellison.
During the month that they lived together, the two developed a trusting, friendly relationship. They talked a lot and on different topics, James helping Savannah with her homework. He tried to make sure that the girl was not bored and less worried about the disappearance of her mother and her friend John Henry.
But he knew that such an idyll would not last forever. Sooner or later, Catherine Weaver, John Connor, and with them John Henry will return. It can happen at any time: tomorrow, in a week, a month, a year— In the meantime, Savannah is in his care, and he will take care of her as if she were his own. However, there was another problem: the board of directors of ZeiraCorp was not satisfied with the fact that Ellison took the girl with him, believing that he was doing it for selfish purposes. Savannah was the only heir to Weaver whom they already thought was dead, so all the top executives would like to have influence over her.
At their instigation, the guardianship authorities became interested in Ellison. They made it clear that the situation of a little girl living alone with someone else's adult man raises many questions. In addition, Savannah was a citizen of Scotland, which only complicated the matter and threatened an international scandal. James was given an ultimatum: either he would return Savannah in the near future, or she would be forcibly taken away, and he himself would be accused of child molestation.
Ellison didn't need these additional problems at all. Police and the FBI already had suspicions of harboring and assisting Sarah Connor, although no formal charges have yet been brought against James.
So far, officials have been deterred from custody by the conclusion of a child psychologist, who argued that Savannah, who has lost all her relatives, could suffer even more morally if she loses Ellison. But how long will this detain the soulless bureaucrats? After all, the bosses of ZeiraCorp may well buy a completely opposite conclusion from a loyal psychotherapist. And not even one.
Guardianship could help solve the problem with Savannah. Ellison had already begun to collect documents, but shortly after Weaver disappeared, he lost his job and has not yet been able to find a new one. It was almost impossible for unemployed citizens to become guardians. Of course, too little time had passed, but with each passing day, these thoughts tormented him more and more. Ellison even began to think about returning to the FBI — despite everything, he still had acquaintances there who would say a word for his former colleague in front of his superiors. And now he was once again replaying this idea in his head, completely forgetting about the meat lasagna that was baked in the oven.
"James, hurry! Otherwise, everything will burn!" Savannah, who had come running from the living room, reminded.
"What? Ahhh Aw!"
Ellison fussed, trying to save the lasagna before it completely went bad. In general, as a bachelor, he knew how to cook, but only the simplest dishes, more often making do with semi-finished products and fast food. But Savannah, her growing body, needed a healthier, more nutritious diet, so James hurriedly began to master the science of cooking. It hasn't worked out very well yet, but he tried. Savannah helped as much as she could, and together they did much better.
"How's that?" Ellison asked, as they sat at the table, eating dinner.
Savannah tasted the first bite, chewed, hesitated, and finally said, "Not bad."
"I thought I didn't salt enough," he said, relieved.
The girl, however, ate without appetite, lazily picking at the lasagna with a fork.
"What is it?" Ellison asked anxiously.
Savannah looked straight into James's eyes.
"James, where's my mother?" She asked, her voice full of sadness and resentment. "It's been a month! I don't understand, did she leave me? Why? After all, I behaved well—"
"No, no, Savannah, what are you!" Ellison tried to calm her down, seeing tears welling up in the girl's eyes, "She loves you. She's just— I went on a business trip."
"But she doesn't text, she doesn't call me!" Savannah said reasonably.
James knew that, despite his best efforts, he could not replace her mother. But the one who had disappeared a month ago, having passed through time into an unknown future, was also not her mother. I wasn't human at all. And what happens when Savannah finds out? Sooner or later, she'll find out—
"She— well—" Ellison knew the argument was weak, but he couldn't say anything else. "You'll see, your mother will definitely come back," he assured in a feigned cheerful voice.
James got up from his seat, walked over and hugged the girl. In turn, Savannah wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. She sobbed softly.
The doorbell shattered the oppressive atmosphere. Ellison thought it was from child welfare again, so he asked Savannah to wipe away her tears and continue with dinner. The girl reluctantly agreed.
Imagine James's surprise, however, when he looked through the peephole of the door and found the one they had just been talking about. Catherine Weaver herself stood outside the door, patiently waiting for the door to be opened. Ellison expected their meeting to happen in any way, but not so simple, not so ordinary.
Weaver still looked flawless: a strict business dress that fit perfectly on a slender body, fiery red hair tied in a ponytail, discreet makeup, large expressive eyes, a concentrated expression on a pale face, but at the same time standing out for some special attractiveness. However, all this, as James now knew, was only an ingenious imitation of a perfect metal body.
"Mr. Ellison! Glad to see you again," Weaver said affably, as if nothing had happened and they had parted only yesterday under perfectly ordinary circumstances. Without asking permission, she entered the house.
Before James could reply, Savannah came running into the hallway, unmistakably recognizing the familiar voice. The girl froze in front of Catherine. Savannah's face showed a storm of emotion, and the joy of seeing her loved one quickly turned to anger.
"Where have you been?! Why didn't she call?!" She asked, resentful, demanding.
"I'm glad to see you too, Savannah, and I'll explain it later," Weaver said, reserved as always, and tried to pat the girl's head. But she withdrew and was in no hurry to give herself into the arms of her parent. Frowning, she waited for an answer here and now.
"Savannah, what's the matter? Is this how you meet the only person close to you?"
Ellison observed this scene at the same time as a mixture of relief and anxiety. On the one hand, the uncertainty that plagued Savannah has passed. On the other hand, James did not want to give the child, especially in the hands of this car.
"Savannah, take your things, say good-bye to Mr. Ellison, and let's go home."
The girl looked at James, and he knew she was waiting for his approval.
"Savannah, go finish your dinner while I talk to your mother."
Without even glancing at her mother, Savannah walked into the kitchen. Ellison walked with Weaver into the other room and closed the door behind him so she wouldn't hear.
"What's going on, James? Why does Savannah behave this way?" Weaver asked when they were alone.
"Don't you understand?"
"No, I don't."
"She's missed you so much, and you—" he said reproachfully. The Terminator was unmistakably counting intonation.
"I guess you're blaming me for that. But what could I do? You know the circumstances under which we parted."
"And you couldn't have come earlier?"
"There aren't time machines lying around every corner, especially in the world we've come to. And besides, such travel is not a taxi ride. It has its own laws. We had to choose the closest available time point to the one we started from.
Ellison was forced to admit the reasonableness of her words. He asked:
"And what about the future?"
"Some changes for the better are already visible, but there is still a lot of work to be done.
"Well, what about Connor and John Henry?"
"They're safe."
"Here?" In this time?"
"Of course."
"And you returned the chip to this—" Cameron?
"Yes, James, we've been brought back safely. But why this interrogation? We could talk tomorrow in the office."
"I don't work for ZeiraCorp anymore."
"Why? Have you resigned?"
"I was fired by the Board of Directors."
"Okay, consider yourself reinstated. Tomorrow I am waiting for you in my office at the beginning of the working day."
"I can't get through. My access card has been cancelled."
"It'll be up and running in the morning."
"The board of directors will be against it.
Weaver stared at Ellison. A small smile touched her lips.
Let me remind you, James, that as a major shareholder and CEO, I am the only one who decides who will work for this company and who will not. Got it?"
Ellison nodded, ending their discussion.
They went into the house, where Savannah, who had finished her supper, had gone upstairs to gather her things. James and Catherine helped her pack the essentials in her bag: some clothes, toys, a toothbrush— Ellison promised to bring the rest to the Weaver mansion in the coming days. Still offended, the girl hardly spoke to her mother, but said a warm goodbye to her friend.
James watched as they got into the car, Catherine's black Mercedes, as they drove away. The car disappeared from sight at the end of the street. He sighed, walked into the living room, and flopped wearily into his chair. His house was empty again and somehow immediately ceased to be cozy.
It was hard to be alone here, so the man decided to occupy himself with something to distract himself from sad thoughts. He could go to the gym and sip iron, as he did periodically. But that evening, Ellison's mood was more in line with going to church. A religious man, he read the Bible and also sang in the church choir. And in his younger years, he did it quite well.
The real Catherine Weaver didn't know how to drive a car very well. But the T-1001 did it masterfully. Her driving skills would be the envy of the best drivers in the world. Often, the Terminator moved at a speed close to the maximum permissible speed when she was alone and needed to get to the next business meeting. But now Savannah was sitting in the cabin, so Catherine couldn't take any chances. After all, even she was not able to calculate the actions of all drivers on the road and the likelihood of road accidents.
The car moved in general traffic, barely exceeding thirty-five miles per hour. The navigator told them that if they kept their speed constant around that value, they would reach home in about an hour. There is enough time for loved ones who have not seen each other for a month to have a heart-to-heart talk.
At the beginning of the trip, Catherine asked her daughter a few questions about life with Ellison. She got off with general phrases. After that, both fell silent. Weaver pondered the challenges she would face in the long run: regaining her status as head of the corporation, settling tensions with the board of directors, getting John Henry up and running, and taking some steps against Kaliba.
From time to time, Catherine glanced in the rearview mirror at Savannah. She sat gloomy and looked at the scenery outside the window without much interest. She tried not to look at her mother. Weaver didn't try to get Savannah to talk, not paying much attention to her resentment. The Terminator, who was not very experienced in such matters, believed that the girl would soon begin to behave herself as before.
When the Mercedes turned off the highway, Savannah broke the silence.
"You promised to explain everything to me, but you don't say anything," the girl reproached.
"I didn't say I'd do it today," Weaver said.
"When?"
"There's a time for everything, Savannah."
"I'd rather stay with James," Savannah pursed her lips in resentment.
"Why do you say that?" Catherine was surprised.
"Because you don't love me."
"You're wrong, Savannah. I love you and care about you.
"No! No! You don't like it! You've changed since Dad died! You used to treat me very differently!" The girl shouted, giving free rein to everything that had been accumulating in her soul for many months, and it became especially difficult in the last one. "You've become like— like—" Savannah struggled to find a word to stab her mother harder, "like a robot!"
Outwardly, Weaver was able to keep her equanimity, but even she was struck by such an accurate comparison. She stopped the car on the side of the road and turned toward Savannah.
"You're talking nonsense," the terminator tried to protest.
The girl didn't listen. She nimbly unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and jumped out of the car. Savannah walked briskly back toward the highway.
"Savannah, don't you dare run away from me!" came from somewhere behind.
But Savannah wasn't listening. The girl was ready, if necessary, to walk all the way back to James Ellison's house. Catherine had to yell at her three times, but Savannah didn't stop.
Weaver caught up with her effortlessly, grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her into the air like fluff. Their faces were on the same level. Catherine looked on without anger, but Savannah began to beat her mother in the chest and stomach with her small fists.
"Let me in! Let! I don't want to live with you! I want to go back to James!"
At the same time, tears gushed from the girl's eyes.
Catherine looked around — fortunately, there were no other drivers on the road at this late hour.
The Terminator didn't know what to do. Savannah had never had a tantrum before. She went through all the possible options and decided that the best thing to do would be to let the girl cry. Weaver later recalled that it was at this moment that she first began to understand what Savannah was really feeling and what it was like for her to live without her mother for a month.
"I had to leave to help John Henry. He left without asking, and he could get into trouble without me," Catherine tried to sound softer.
"John Henry?" Savannah asked, surprised, "Is he alright?"
"Yes, he's fine now."
"But— How did he leave? Where to?"
"I can't tell you that yet," Weaver explained calmly.
"When?"
"Later. Remember what I told you about patience? Know how to wait, Savannah."
The girl frowned again, but was no more naughty.
With the conflict settled, Catherine suggested that Savannah go home. She reluctantly agreed. To speed up the process, Weaver took her in her arms and carried her to the car.
They walked the rest of the way quietly, though again they were silent. As soon as she crossed the threshold of the mansion, Savannah went straight to her room. When her mother offered to help her change her clothes for bed, the girl replied that she was already big and could do everything herself. Savannah was still hurt, and Weaver couldn't help but admit that it bothered her more than usual.
She would definitely take care of it, but now the priority was more urgent matters.
When James Ellison arrived at work, he was able to see once again the power of the owner of ZeiraCorp, who ran the company with a literal iron fist. As Weaver had said, his access to the building had been fully restored. And the former subordinates, the brutal guards on duty at the entrance, who until recently had scornfully escorted the fired Ellison and taken away his magnetic pass, now immediately gave him back. They were ostentatiously polite and even, it seemed to Ellison, trying too hard to please him. One even suggested that James bring coffee upstairs to the office.
Once at home, the first thing Ellison did was call Catherine's secretary and ask if he could come. But he was told that Weaver was currently holding a meeting with the board of directors and would not be able to see him until eleven o'clock. James spent the time he had interacting with his subordinates, as well as with Mr. Murch, who had been fired but reinstated by Weaver. Ellison, of course, pretended to know no more than Murch himself, and had a brief discussion with him about the strangeness of the whole affair.
When James went up to the floor where the company's CEO's office was located, the meeting had just ended. The members of the board of directors, six men and three women, came out with such lean faces that Ellison felt sorry for them for a moment. Apparently, Weaver gave them a good roast. They looked at James with anger. But he didn't care.
After waiting for everyone to come out, he went into the office to Weaver, who was sitting with her back to him, looking out the window. But as Ellison got closer, Weaver spun around in her chair and found herself face to face with the man. She was wearing an elegant gray pantsuit that Ellison had never seen before.
"Do you have a new look?" He asked instead of greeting.
"How nice of you to notice that."
"And it suits you."
"Oh, James, what do I hear! Compliment! It sounds like you're in a good mood — getting back to work has had a positive effect on you. Have you already settled into your former place?"
"I haven't been away that long, so it wasn't too difficult. My subordinates have already brought me up to speed."
"Very well. I'm counting on you. Have a seat."
"Thank you for giving me a second chance. Really. I appreciate it," Ellison assured seriously, sinking into a chair.
"Believe me, James, I know how to be grateful. Especially to those people who have benefited our company. And your merits are not small at all."
"Do you mean John Henry?"
"Of course. Without you, he wouldn't be what he is."
"How's he doing, by the way? Is he down here?" Ellison ventured curiously.
"Yes, it scans the building's systems for security threats. You can go down to him, play chess with him, for example. I'm sure he'll be glad to see your company. I remember him calling you his friend."
Ellison was a little offended by this, so he changed the subject.
"Did you manage to find out anything about that drone?"
"Not yet: its creators tried to keep it secret. But I'm sure it's a matter of time, and John Henry will figure it out soon. By the way, I think one of the board members works for Kaliba— Keep an eye on them."
James nodded, accepting her errand.
"I was going to ask—" he said, not very confidently.
"Let me guess, did you want to know who killed Lachlan and Catherine Weaver?" It was as if the Terminator had read his mind.
From his silence she knew she had guessed right.
"That's a logical question, given what you've seen— A machine did it." And after a pause, she explained, "Not me. When I got to the helicopter crash site, they were still breathing, but they were already dying. There was nothing I could do. All I had to do was hide Catherine's body and take her place. Then I waited for the rescuers to arrive—"
Ellison changed the subject again.
"I'm worried about Savannah. If Kaliba is behind this incident with the attack on your office, they may try to harm the girl in some way."
"The savannah is secretly guarded, even now, at school. And when the lessons are over, I'll pick her up personally. "
Ellison nodded.
"It's her birthday coming up," he remarked, deciding to see if the machine in human form remembered such things.
Of course, she remembered. One of the most advanced artificial intelligences easily stored in memory all more or less significant dates.
"Yes, in two weeks."
"And what are you going to do?"
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Well— I don't know how to organize a party, invite her friends, animators— In general, to make this day memorable for her."
"As far as I know, Savannah doesn't have any close friends. And besides, I think that in the current conditions, a holiday is not what she needs."
"What does she want?"
Weaver raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"You're asking me, but you seem to want to give me an answer. Curious to listen to."
"She needs a mother."
"She has a mother."
"No—" Ellison shook his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, as if weighing his words, said, "A real mother."
"I can't raise Catherine Weaver from the dead. I suppose you know that."
"That's not what I'm talking about."
He got up from the table and paced the room, searching for words. The T-1001 did not rush with explanations.
"I mean, you have to pay more attention to Savannah, spend more time with her, know what she wants, what she likes, what bothers her— You know, I remember the day she was playing hide-and-seek with John Henry and disappeared— At the time, I was struck by your passivity and indifference to her fate, but now I understand—"
"Don't exaggerate, James, I wasn't indifferent — I just gave John Henry a chance to get another experience with people."
But Ellison didn't seem to hear. He continued, "And yesterday I saw how upset she was with you for your long absence. Understand that if you don't do it now, you may lose contact with her altogether. A few more years, and Savannah will reach an age where it will be much more difficult to control her. I know, I was a teenager myself. And then there is more. As an adult, she will retain all this negativity towards you, and it will be impossible to change it. And if you were expecting her to be your ally someday in what you're doing, that she'll help you fight Skynet, then you could be making a big miscalculation."
He saw interest in Weaver's face, and it gave Ellison courage. Therefore, he took the liberty of summarizing, "Again, you should pay more attention to Savannah. No, you— Must! If you don't, then I—"
"Then what are you?"
"I'll tell her everything. About you."
Having said that, James almost regretted such impertinence. What if he went too far?
Catherine's face wore a devilish smile that usually didn't bode well.
"How interesting, James! Do you set conditions for me?"
The man swallowed nervously.
"I just think it's better that way. For both of you."
But Weaver didn't seem to have any intention of fighting.
"I'm sure you won't. If you wanted to, you would have already told her that you had enough time."
Of course, Catherine was right, and he was just bluffing. James was too attached to Savannah to risk putting her fragile childish psyche to such a test.
"Can I go?" He muttered, admitting defeat.
Weaver let Ellison go, but not before she promised to think about what he said about Savannah.
For a few minutes she stared thoughtfully at the framed photograph of the girl on her desk.
Within hours, the news that Catherine Weaver had returned and continued to lead ZeiraCorp sent the corporation's stock soaring, restoring its credibility among investors and stockbrokers. The secretary's phone was red-hot with calls from journalists vying with each other to ask for interviews. Weaver agreed to a few meetings and asked to spread them out over the course of a week.
And after the conversation with Ellison, she held a number of small meetings, spoke with Mr. Murch, discussed the future development of John Henry, and listened to reports from the heads of the legal and finance departments regarding the current situation in the company.
She then drove to school outside Savannah, left her at home in the care of a nanny and under the supervision of a private security agency, and returned to the office in the late afternoon. Weaver went down to the basement, where John Henry spent his time doing one of his favorite pastimes: collecting and hand-painting figurines of various monsters and toy soldiers. Such a simple activity did not prevent him from ploughing the expanses of the World Wide Web at a huge speed, inaccessible to man, and at the same time looking for traces of Skynet.
He reported some progress in the investigation of the drone incident. And then, suddenly, as was often the case, he switched to something else.
"I heard you talking to Mr. Ellison," he said.
"I don't doubt it," said Catherine laconically. "What do you think?"
"He's right."
"Right?"
"Yes, and you're just afraid to follow his advice," said the artificial intelligence in the terminator's body.
"What's so ridiculous? I'm not afraid."
"I'm not talking about the fear of death or pain. But you're afraid to get close to Savannah, to love her. You're afraid that if you try to become more human, you'll succeed. And then you will become more vulnerable. This fear is available to you. Or rather, it became available as you become more and more among people. You're learning new things, just like me.
"I have other things to do. There's no need to be distracted by the girl. In addition, I try to play the role of her mother as much as possible."
"Exactly, to play a role. I've seen you clumsily try to talk to Savannah and give her some advice, in Mr. Ellison's words. For example, on the anniversary of the death of Lachlan Weaver. But have you ever spent a day with her? Did you help her with her homework? Did you play with her? Did you teach her something? Finally, were you gentle with her, kissed her, hugged her? I watched your face when Detective Crichton gave you back Savannah after Sarah Connor's arrest—you didn't even pretend to be happy to see your daughter. "
"Does it really matter? I don't have time for that."
"You never have time."
"Of course, I'm taking care of you, your development. Keeping you safe. You should be grateful, but instead you run away and jeopardize all my work."
"Do you know why I ran away?" John Henry asked, and answered, "To avenge you for your words about sacrificing Savannah for me, for the greater good. I have thought about this for a long time and find them unacceptable."
John Henry saw Weaver's pupils dilate as she did so, indicating the genuine surprise of her artificial intelligence.
"Why?"
"Because Savannah is a child. She is weak and defenseless. She trusts you and is completely dependent on you. She's also a friend of mine. I like to play with her, sing songs— Her life is just as important as mine. To think otherwise is to think like my brother. So if you hurt Savannah, I'll tell everyone who you are and what you do."
"I see you've decided to follow Mr. Ellison's bad example, and you're threatening me."
"Mr. Ellison taught me that human life is sacred."
Weaver hesitated for a moment. Her "son," in human terms, seems to have reached that adolescence when children begin to rebel against their parents.
"You reproach me, and yet you have put Savannah in danger by your reckless act. Without us at this time, the Kaliba could have easily reached it."
The blow seems to have hit its target. John Henry thought for a moment.
"But— Mr. Ellison and Sarah Connor were with her."
"They're human beings, and they could easily be neutralized."
"But nothing bad happened," John Henry made a fail-safe argument.
Weaver thought that he was still a child in some ways. She also realized that their argument was reaching an impasse, so she thought it best to announce conciliatorily, "Be calm, John Henry. I'm not going to hurt Savannah. As for your advice with Mr. Ellison, I'm not sure I can do it."
"Maybe you should ask someone who knows how to do it for advice."
"Who, for example?"
"Sarah Connor's. She's a mother."
Cameron urgently needed new skin. Without the microprocessor and the associated skin regeneration, this pretty-looking girl began to look like a monster from a horror movie. A kind of Frankenstein's monster, only in a female guise.
On more than one occasion, Sarah tried to burn her metal remains, as they had done with other Terminators, but each time at the last moment, she stopped herself. Connor never stopped hoping that John would come back. In this case, he will definitely bring her chip with him. And she will never forgive her mother when she finds out that there is nowhere else to put it.
Sarah hated the Terminators. And she hated Cameron. All the time they had lived and worked side by side, she had only endured it for John's sake. And she could endure it further, especially since in this form the metal girl at least did not pose a danger.
However, when John Connor showed up with the chip and shoved it back into Cameron's skull after a month of agonizing waiting, it wasn't enough. The decay had gone so far that now only newly grown synthetic flesh could save the day. Since Cameron could bring a lot of benefits in the future in her normal form, it was decided to update her.
John contacted Weaver, who was one of their acquaintances who was able to perform the operation. The technological capabilities of ZeiraCorp have already helped to restore the appearance of actor George Lazlo, who used the Terminator Cromarty, and now John Henry. So, everything had to work out with Cameron.
Sarah and John brought her to the corporation building late at night. There are no extra eyes, and John Henry has partially turned off the video surveillance so that these three can safely get inside. In one of the labs on the lower level, they began the process.
Cameron was laid naked on a table, where her appearance was scanned down to the smallest detail and entered into the system. It was then shoved into what looked like an MRI machine, where machines came into play, first removing the remnants of skin from it and then proceeding to synthesize a new integument.
Sarah was glad they didn't get to see Cameron as a creepy metal skeleton, though it wasn't lacking in some elegance. Memories of the T-800 rising from the wreckage of the fuel tanker and chasing her and Kyle until the very end are forever etched in my memory.
While the skin was being generated, Sarah, John, and Weaver discussed what to do against Kaliba. Sarah shared the information she was able to learn over the past month. The information was useful, but there was a lot of work to be done. Their enemy was strong, and Skynet was already on par with John Henry's intelligence.
When John took advantage of the pause in the conversation to go to the bathroom, Catherine turned to Sarah:
"Tell me what it's like to be a mother."
"What?" She didn't understand.
"Mother." What do you need to do to successfully interact with your child? To gain his trust? How should you behave?
"It's— you can't describe it in a few words," Connor muttered, feeling out of place.
"I want to get closer to Savannah, but I don't know how. John Henry advised me to ask you. Were you affectionate with your son when he was little? Did you help him with his homework? Did you play with him? Did you kiss him often?"
Sarah hadn't expected such questions, especially from the mouth of a robot.
"I— taught him to be strong, to be a leader— taught survival skills, shooting— taught how to fight against machines and set up to prepare for the end of the world. There was no time for caresses and kisses—"
"Still, you've been motherly at times," Weaver said, not asking, but rather stating.
"Very rarely. After a moment's thought, Sarah continued, "I think you need to be honest with Savannah first. Tell her the truth.
"The truth?"
"The truth about what happened to her parents. The truth about you. Sooner or later, she'll find out, but if you keep lying to her, you'll never earn her trust and her love."
"Do you think that, at her age, she is capable of perceiving the truth adequately?"
"Why not? John first met the Terminator at the age of twelve[1]."
"But Savannah isn't twelve. Besides, you said yourself that John was prepared."
"Savannah may be shocked at first, but then I'm sure she'll come to terms with it. Children generally accept such things more easily. In any case, it's better than the lie the girl lives in now. She thinks you're her real mother, who for some reason shows indifference to her. It hurts her feelings and only spoils your relationship. If Savannah knows that you are not human, she will understand many things and it will be easier for her to accept your detachment."
Weaver thought for a moment.
"Well, it's up to you," Connor finished.
Though she felt sorry for Savannah Weaver, Sarah didn't want to get involved, didn't want to solve Catherine's problems. She hated the Terminators. The only one of them she had a positive attitude towards was long dead. The one who helped them escape back in '97. John called him "Uncle Bob." The only Terminator who realized the value of human life and voluntarily allowed himself to be melted in a vat of red-hot metal for the sake of a safe future for all people.
John returned, and they continued to oversee Cameron's skin repair surgery. But they did it in silence, only occasionally exchanging scant comments. Everyone focused on their own thoughts.
Finally, an hour later, Cameron emerged from the machine, safe and sound. There were no signs of damage on it.
"How do you feel?" John asked, as his metal girlfriend sat down and began to examine herself.
"It's all right, John. All systems are working fine."
Sarah handed her the clothes and walked out with John, not wanting her son to stare at the naked female body in all its anatomical details. Weaver just watched them in silence.
But as the Connors disappeared behind the door, she suddenly turned to Cameron, "Why did you turn down my offer to join us?"
The Terminator girl looked up and, as she often did, hesitated for a moment.
"Because you refused. Then, in two thousand and twenty-seven. John Connor was counting on you," she said reproachfully. "By the way, why did you do that?"
"I haven't decided yet if I'm going to go against Skynet. In addition, after studying the behavior of the crew of the Jimmy Carter, I realized that people are also full of doubts. They weren't ready to give up their prejudices against machines, so such an alliance would surely have been doomed to failure."
That could have been the end of their conversation, but before she left, Cameron said, "Thank you for your help."
Weaver nodded.
"As for Savannah— Don't imitate human behavior, learn to feel and love for real. Trust Savannah and she'll show you how."
"Do you know how to love?"
"I love John," Cameron replied without a trace of falsehood.
"Just fragments of Allison Young's mind."
"No, Allison has nothing to do with it. It's mine— Own."
Not sure if Weaver believed her, Cameron headed for the exit.
Catherine didn't say anything after her. She only followed the Terminator girl with a concentrated, heavy gaze.
The next day brought new worries and problems. Weaver had a productive time, but when she picked Savannah up from school that evening and brought her home, she didn't return to the ZeiraCorp office. Instead, Catherine decided to spend the evening with Savannah. She hadn't yet decided whether to tell the girl the truth, as Sarah Connor and Cameron had advised. The Terminator wanted to observe her, get to know her better, and prepare her for a possible difficult conversation.
In the afternoon she had read several books on child and family psychology recommended by the late Dr. Sherman, and had to agree with John Henry that her previous attempts to reach Savannah had not been very successful.
After supper, carefully prepared and left by the visiting servants, Savannah went into the drawing-room. There, she sat down on the floor and began to assemble a large puzzle that James Ellison had given her. Catherine, on the other hand, was in her office watching her daughter through a video camera.
Weaver thought it was a good moment to try her hand at being a caring mother. She walked out into the living room and walked straight to Savannah, who was sitting on the carpet, diligently putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Catherine knelt down beside her and asked:
"Savannah, do you want me to help you? What are you collecting?"
The girl looked at her mother in disbelief. She had gotten out of the habit of being able to come up to her and inquire about her affairs so easily—at best, she would sit on the couch and call Savannah to her in a demanding manner. But the most surprising thing was that Catherine smiled, and did it much more naturally than before. However, Savannah, still angry with her mother, was in no hurry to open up to her.
"Don't you have to work?"
"No, I was going to spend time with you today."
Savannah looked at her appraisingly, pondering what she had heard.
"So can I join?"
The girl handed her mother a piece of the puzzle and explained, "It's going to be parrots."
Weaver attached a piece to the bird's head as it began to emerge. Savannah didn't hesitate to add another.
"Do you like birds?"
"I like animals and birds. They are interesting to watch."
Two more pieces of the puzzle lay on the table, where the head of a large mottled macaw was already visible.
"How do you feel about machines?"
"Machines?" The girl didn't understand.
"Robots, computers—"
"I'm afraid of them. They— Not real, not alive."
The conversation, which had started well, did not go as Weaver had hoped. She hurriedly began to look for options on how to direct him in the right direction.
"But you're friends with John Henry. He's also a machine, an artificial intelligence."
"Yes, he's good," Savannah agreed after a moment's thought. "It's great to talk to him about different things, and he's taught me a lot of things. He's a friend of mine, and so is Mr. Ellison."
"And me? Am I not your friend? I'm your mother."
Savannah shook her head instead of replying.
"You used to be very different. Sociable, cheerful— You played with me, we walked, we traveled— But after Dad died, you changed. You don't love me anymore," the girl said frankly, looking Catherine straight in the eye.
"No, I love you. I— I just work very hard. Now that I have to run our company alone, I have so much responsibility on my shoulders—"
"And you can't even take the occasional time for me and not for John Henry?"
"That's what I'm trying to do now. Come to me, daughter."
Catherine tried to hug Savannah and even imprint a kiss on her head. But the girl suddenly shivered. Weaver had to pull away.
"Mom, why are you so cold?"
"Circulatory problems," Catherine said, trying to distract Savannah by changing the subject.
"Savannah, it's your birthday soon. If you want, I'll organize a party for you? We will invite guests, your classmates—"
"Let's have this day together. Do you remember how you and my dad and I used to go to the old lighthouse and walk there, feed the birds, and then eat hot waffles in a waterfront café?" Savannah asked enthusiastically.
"Yes, of course," Weaver lied, not remembering anything of the sort. But she will definitely fill this gap in her knowledge. Tonight, when Savannah will be asleep.
"Do you promise we'll go there again?" Savannah's voice was hopeful.
It was not in the rules of T-1001 to make promises that might not be kept. But the situation of Savannah required an exception to these rules. So she took the liberty of replying, "I promise."
The girl's freckled face cleared and she smiled. And even the Terminator felt the importance of the moment. Savannah clung to her now, and in spite of Catherine's unpleasant coldness, she embraced her mother. Weaver gently hugged the girl back and held her close to her chest.
So they sat for a while. Savannah talked about her girlish affairs: schoolwork, her strict teacher, her classmates, and many other little things that cared about her. Savannah boasted that she now knew how to tie her shoelaces — John Connor taught her by showing her "a squirrel on a tree." And James Ellison instilled in her an interest in cooking — Savannah was already making far-reaching plans for how she and her mother would make meat lasagna or tomato soup. Gradually, Savannah's voice grew quieter, and at one point the girl dozed off, but Weaver was in no hurry to wake her, continuing to stroke Savannah's head as gently as she could.
At the same time, her complex electronic brain, which did not stop working for a second, carefully analyzed everything she heard and experienced. And he told his mistress that now that her relationship with Savannah had begun to improve, it would be even more difficult for her to reveal the truth to the girl.
Before putting Savannah to bed, Catherine washed her hair, combed it properly, and even read a fairy tale just before going to bed, as she had promised. She was still not very good at reading with expression, but the girl, glad of the change for the better, did not find fault. Finally, she asked her mother not to leave her again, and Catherine made a promise for the second time that evening.
During the night, T-1001 once again went through the entire Weaver family archive, trying to see if she had missed anything earlier. She paid special attention to everything related to the trips to the lighthouse that Savannah had mentioned. The Terminator planned to visit there in advance to get her bearings and properly prepare for the trip together.
Weaver gradually grew closer to the girl and got to know her better as a person. They began to spend a lot more time together: Catherine read to her, did her homework with her, and lulled her to sleep at bedtime. They sang songs, including Savannah's favorite song about Donald and his pants, and they even played hide-and-seek. Savannah is much happier. And this could not fail to be noted by all the employees of ZeiraCorp with whom she had a chance to communicate. This could not be overlooked by James Ellison and John Henry, who paid tribute to Weaver's efforts.
Catherine did arrange a birthday party for her daughter, although not as large-scale as Ellison had painted it. Everything took place at their home, the living room of which was specially decorated for the occasion. Savannah's favorite delicacies and a custom-made large cake decorated with fresh fruit, the candles on which the girl blew out in the presence of her mother, James Ellison, as well as Sarah, John and Cameron, were brought here. The invitation of these three was insisted upon by the hero of the occasion herself. Even John Henry was here – thanks to a new chip they got in the future, he was able to get rid of the cable in his head and now moved around much more freely.
Savannah in a festive dress of delicate blue color with a beautiful floral print looked like a real little princess. And even Weaver, who usually dressed elegantly but strictly, changed her image to a brighter and more solemn one. She also had to eat a piece of cake under the suspicious glances of the Connors and Ellison so as not to arouse Savannah's suspicions. Interestingly, no one stared at Cameron in this regard - everyone was already used to the fact that she could eat.
When the ceremonial part was over, and Savannah had sorted out all the presents, Catherine announced that the two of them would now go to the lighthouse and spend the rest of the day walking by the ocean. The girl was indescribably delighted.
The few holidaymakers who also chose this stretch of coast as a place for a walk that day could observe an almost idyllic picture. Catherine and Savannah walked leisurely, holding hands, admiring the blue surface of the ocean, feeding the seagulls with bread. A small museum was set up in the old lighthouse last year, and Savannah has categorically stated that she wants to see it.
That day, for the first time since the ill-fated plane crash, she felt happy, and she didn't want it to end. And even the T-1001 seemed to be beginning to understand what simple human happiness is to be close to a loved one and enjoy every moment lived. Nothing seemed to overshadow their time together. That is, until Catherine and Savannah walked into the very café whose waffles the girl liked so much.
Savannah sat on the outdoor terrace under a wide awning, admiring the stunning views of the ocean and the yachts and boats passing by, while Catherine went inside to place her order. It didn't take long, and soon she was back with a tray on which were plates of two portions of Belgian waffles drizzled with maple syrup and two small, delicate cocoa cups.
As the girl, who had worked up an appetite, began to eat her waffles, Weaver, diligently imitating the human behavior she had learned, took a sip of the warm, aromatic beverage. As soon as this happened, Savannah froze and looked at her with a look of fear and incomprehension on her face.
Sensing something was wrong, Catherine asked:
"What is it, Savannah? Don't you like waffles?"
The answer astonished her.
"You're not my mother," the girl said clearly and with absolute certainty.
The fork with which she was holding a piece of waffle fell out of her hands and fell with a clatter, first on the table, and then on the asphalt. Weaver noticed that Savannah was trembling. And the reason for this was the fresh breeze that did not come from the sea at all.
"How can you say that, honey? I'm your mother—"
"No," Savannah said. At the same time, she did not break into a scream. "My mother never drank cocoa. She had allergies. She always took her tea," the girl explained, revealing the mistake that the terminator had made.
Dozens of available answers raced through her electronic brain like lightning, but T-1001 knew they wouldn't help in this situation. The girl cornered her, as people say, "laid her on both shoulder blades." The Terminator made a mistake. Small, but unforgivable. As she searched through the Weaver family archives, she hadn't bothered to check Catherine's medical records, which must have been allergic.
"Now I understand," said the red-haired princess, sobbing, "all this talk about machines, the way you've changed since Daddy's death, your constantly cold body—"
Savannah's youthful but inquisitive mind finally put all these facts together.
Weaver didn't interrupt. She already knew what the girl was going to say.
"You're really a robot!" She came to a shocking conclusion, remembering her own words the night Catherine had taken her away from Ellison. "And you killed my parents," the girl either asked or said affirmatively.
She took the silence of the "mother" as another confirmation of this.
Savannah's beautiful green eyes filled with tears.
Catherine looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. But all the visitors of the café, fortunately, huddled inside.
"Savannah, I swear to you, I didn't!" The Terminator said with an almost human feeling that she didn't expect from herself.
But at that moment, the girl had already nimbly jumped off the bench and ran to the wide wooden staircase that led down to the beach. She longed for a place to hide herself from the creature she believed to be her mother, to be alone, to weep out her grief that had fallen upon her so suddenly in the middle of a beautiful sunny day that deceptively promised only happiness. Once on the sand, Savannah ran about three hundred feet further along the almost deserted beach and stopped at the water's edge.
She stood there crying, not knowing what to do next.
Silently approaching from behind, Catherine stood beside and at a little distance. By this time, the girl had calmed down a little.
"I'm really sorry it happened, Savannah," she said softly.
"Why did you pretend to be my mother? Why have you been lying all this time?" The girl asked, without turning around.
"I come from the future, Savannah. From a very bleak future. There, the remnants of humanity fought Skynet, an artificial intelligence that had taken over the world and killed many people. I was also created by Skynet to kill people. But over time, I realized that Skynet was wrong, and I switched to the side of humanity. When I couldn't save your parents and was forced to take on your mother's form, the first thing I did was what they had to do: create someone who could stand up to Skynet. It is John Henry."
"You don't love me, do you? I'm not your daughter. Why, then, did you bring me here? Why did you throw me a party?"
"You see, I was never taught to love, I was never taught to be a mother— And when we first met, I must admit, I only looked at you as a burdensome addition to my mission. You remember what I was like before we started going to Dr. Sherman: you were afraid of me, and I didn't know what to do with you—"
Savannah finally dared to look at Catherine. The eyes are the window to the soul, as John Henry said. And in them, the Terminator read more interest in her story than anger or fear, and this gave Weaver determination.
"Things got better for us, but we didn't really get close. I still devoted most of my time and energy to John Henry. Once, when you were taken away by Sarah, John and Cameron and you were with them, I said I was ready to sacrifice you for him—"
"A sacrifice?" Savannah didn't understand, not yet familiar with the word.
"Yes, as a sacrifice. I mean, I could let someone kill you."
Seeing how horrified the girl was at these words, Catherine hastened to add, "Believe me, I regret my words very much. I was wrong. Forgive me, Savannah! Weaver dropped to one knee so that she and Savannah were level and looked into the girl's eyes and said, "Now that we're much closer, I realize that your life is as important to me as John Henry's. And I felt that I had to become a good, caring, loving mother to you—"
"But— But you're not cut out for that, are you?"
"I can learn. If you show me what love is, if you let me be your mother, I promise I'll learn."
There is an opinion that children sense lies. According to psychologists, this happens with the help of facial expressions, gestures and intonations. A child learns to perceive non-verbal information before he understands the meaning of words. Though this skill has faded over the years, Savannah has not yet reached that age.
Besides, Weaver wasn't lying or pretending now. And the girl quickly understood this. She reached for Catherine, but stopped suddenly, thoughtful.
"You said you were created to kill people."
There was no point in denying it.
"Yes, Savannah."
"And you? —" Savannah, afraid to hear the answer, couldn't finish the question.
"Yes."
"That's bad. You can't do that."
"Sometimes I must, for our common good," Catherine tried to justify herself.
The girl shook her head.
"No, it doesn't matter! Promise me you'll never do that again!"
"Savannah, I—"
"Please! I am begging you! Otherwise, I won't be able to love you, I won't be able to trust you!
Weaver thought for a moment. She tried to come to a compromise.
"All right, I promise I'll do my best to make sure I don't kill anyone. I will do this only as a last resort, if you or John Henry are in mortal danger and I have no other means of saving you. Is that okay with you?"
Savannah thought for a moment and nodded. She hugged Catherine and kissed her forehead. And she, with all the tenderness of which she was capable, embraced the girl in return.
Sensing the warmth of her small body, the rapid beating of her heart, the smell of her skin, her hair, Weaver felt something she had never experienced before: some kind of inextricable bond with Savannah, and perhaps that state of what people call happiness.
"Don't worry, John Henry," she thought, remembering their recent conversation. "I won't hurt Savannah. And I won't let others do it."
They walked along the beach until late in the evening. Contrary to Catherine's assumption, Savannah herself wanted to know more about the circumstances of her parents' deaths. The terminator also told her about herself, about the future, trying not to exaggerate, and then they talked for a long time about the present. Open and trusting, like a mother and daughter.
