"It's great for you... well... made! Is it like, some kind of martial art: kung fu or something like that?" Stacy ventured to ask.
"Something like that," T-X replied vaguely, and then, in turn, trying to express herself in human language, asked, "Why didn't you want to have an affair with these men?"
The two of them walked slowly down into the city. Stacy quickly realized that there was enough adventure for the day, and therefore the best thing to do was to go home and get a good night's sleep. T-X offered to walk with her to the bus stop, which was a couple of blocks from Hollywood Hill.
At first, despite being grateful for the rescue, the girl did not show enthusiasm for such company. But she was afraid to refuse. The example of three of her friends, or rather former friends, clearly proved that Julia should be treated very carefully: she should never be angered or provoked in any way. And at the same time, something about Stacy's new acquaintance appealed to her: Julia seemed so confident, brave, independent — Stacy felt safe with her. And, of course, she looks amazing. Despite the outward adherence to an informal style of clothing and behavior, Stacy always admired the image of glamorous beauties in her heart and sometimes secretly flipped through thick glossy magazines.
"What?" The girl said in bewilderment, but when she realized it, she added, "Oh, I see! Well, I just didn't want to, that's all! I'm not in the mood today—"
"Shouldn't a man and a woman have to come into physical contact with each other to create offspring?"
The new acquaintance looked at T-X with utter surprise. She was both amused and scared at the same time. She couldn't tell if Julia was pretending to be a fool or if she really didn't understand the simplest things.
"Well, you... This is... Don't you understand? We live in a free country... where a woman decides when and with whom to sleep... should she have children or not—" The girl tried to explain as best she could, and then smiled briefly. "You're a woman yourself!"
Seeing that Julia didn't seem to fully understand her point, Stacy tensed up and tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. She began to talk about herself, her friends, a little about the school where she was forced to go and where she experienced great boredom, the parents who constantly "saw" her young head, urging her to change before it was too late and become a "good girl", a younger sister whom Stacy, in general, loved... At first she spoke timidly, but then she opened up, the more so as Julia seemed to be listening to this confused girl's story with interest, and scarcely interrupted.
By the end of the walk, Stacy was so relaxed that she considered Julia almost her best friend. The shock of what had almost happened to her recently was almost gone, and there was a whole life ahead of her, in which there are still so many interesting things. The only thing that bothered Stacy a little was that Julia avoided talking about herself, answering several of her questions either in monosyllables or not at all. However, remembering her own decision not to anger her new acquaintance, Stacy did not insist.
When they reached the bus stop, she said, "Well, that's where my bus stops... Thank you again, Jule! If you're ever here," Stacy gave her home address, "I'd be glad to see you! Let's hang out together!"
A guileless smile played on her face. And without giving T-X a chance to say anything, the girl, yielding to a sudden impulse, embraced her. The terminator's face showed genuine surprise: nothing like this had ever been done to her before.
"Oh, Julia, your skin is so cold! Why, I see you're all chilled in your light dress!" Stacy said quickly, unclasping her arms.
"No, it's all right. It's—" T-X thought for a moment, — "I've had poor circulation since birth."
At the same time, she raised the temperature of her polyalloy to a normal human temperature of 36.6 degrees Celsius in order to avoid further such embarrassments.
"Yes? But I, to be honest, would not refuse to be in a warmer place now... Maybe we should go somewhere, warm up, drink tequila?"
"You've had enough adventures for today. You'd better go home."
"Oh, well. Then, bye. Thank you again and I was glad to meet you!"
"Me too. Don't go out with bad company anymore."
"Oh, Jule, you sound just like my mother!" The girl laughed.
After parting ways with Stacy, T-X pondered for a while on one of the lines she uttered: "You're a woman yourself!" The terminator never thought of herself that way. Could she call herself a woman? And anyway, how should she treat herself: as to a mechanism, a machine, though endowed with reason and consciousness, or could it claim to be, if not a person, then some special living being, a personality? To put it simply: what is she or who is she?
"So, what chance do we have to save the world from a nuclear catastrophe?" John said it with bitter sarcasm as soon as he drove away from Kate's house.
"The events of July 24-25, 2004 are repeating themselves for the fifth time," Terminator immediately said, not understanding the irony.
Kate, sitting to John's right near the passenger door, looked at him grimly. She was silent.
This time, they all drove a Dodge pickup truck together: since Scott had stayed in the apartment to recover, his car was still with him. Although from a strategic point of view it was more correct to have two cars in case of an accident, for example, the other option also had its advantages. Mainly, the fact that they could talk freely during the trip, which was what they were doing now.
"I still can't believe that all our efforts — the conversation with my father, Flickinger's work — were in vain!" Kate finally said what was on her mind. "I don't know what else we can do!"
"Why, Skynet turned out to be a nimble and cunning son of a bitch!" Connor said in frustration.
Terminator drove the car silently, as if this conversation did not concern him at all.
"But we have new information, after all," Connor said aloud. "If we tell your father again and warn him about trying to shut down Skynet, I'm sure Flickinger and his men can come up with something else.
There was a faint optimism in John's voice, and friend's words made Kate smile slightly. Then she grew gloomy again and said, "As long as T-X doesn't get in the way again!"
"Oh, by the way, how did your fight with her end? Who won?" John asked Terminator. Neither he nor Kate were aware of the explosion, having passed out seconds earlier as Skynet began to pump oxygen out of the facility.
"There were no winners," the cyborg replied indifferently.
"How's that?" The girl asked.
T-850 told them about the explosion. John and Kate were relieved that they didn't have to go through that terrible feeling of being burned alive again.
"She's scared," Terminator said suddenly, some time after the main narrative had ended.
Kate looked at him in bewilderment, and John said in surprise, "Who's scared?"
"T-X. I could see a human-like expression on her face. There is information in my database that it means fear of death."
"Unbelievable! Couldn't you be wrong?" Connor's mind was filled with astonishment.
"The answer is no. She had already had that look on her face for the very first time, in Crystal Peak."
John chuckled, but said nothing. Kate shook her head incredulously. They couldn't believe that T-X could have any emotions that she had in common with a human.
"Still, she's a soulless, cruel metal thing!" Kate said with emotion, replaying in her mind all the memories of her father and others being killed by T-X.
"Terminators aren't programmed to be violent," T-850 said. "Killing people is just a consequence of our original attitudes."
That was the end of their conversation for a while. Everyone focused on their own thoughts. They had an incredibly difficult task ahead of them.
"Hey, lady... yes, yes, you, miss... Don't have a couple of bucks to help someone in need?"
These words belonged to an unassuming-looking man of about forty-five, with dirty matted hair, the same beard, shabby and sometimes tattered clothes, and a foul-smelling man — in other words, a homeless man. In addition to the peculiar smell of a body that had not been washed for a long time, it also exuded a strong "aroma" around him, such as a person with a hangover has. So it's not surprising that anyone who passed by the alley where the person was leaning against the side of the building turned up their noses and quickened their pace to get away as soon as possible. However, the time was early, so there were very few pedestrians. But one of them turned out to be T-X.
It must be said that this happened at the intersection of Broadway and Seventh Street, or rather in the alley where, twenty years ago, Kyle Reese, a sergeant of the technical unit of DN-38416, who had just moved to 1984, met another tramp, Benjamin Shantz, from whom he took his pants without further ado.
Since T-X couldn't be deterred by the smell or sight of the bum, she stopped when she heard the question and stared at the man. Even though he had a terrible hangover and his head was bursting at the seams, he couldn't help but notice that this was a pretty young girl. Therefore, it was a real surprise for him that she reacted to his words, which, in general, were thrown just like that, at random.
Seeing that the blonde did not seem to be in a hurry to leave, the tramp repeated his request, "Just a couple of bucks, miss! I'd just like to get my throat wet—"
"Why are you sitting here?" As if not hearing the question, the girl asked in her turn.
"What?"
"Don't you have a house?"
"I live on the street—"
"Why?"
T-X's sharp questions, though she spoke quite calmly, began to irritate the man. He did not count on such a turn of events and was not at all inclined to participate in the interrogation of the blonde.
"Listen, lady, if you don't want to give money, don't do that. Just don't start fooling me with your stupid questions!"
The girl stared at him silently for a few seconds, and then, to the homeless man's even greater surprise, she said, "I'll be back soon."
On the other side of the street, a little ahead, there was an ATM built into the wall of the building, and T-X went straight to it. After looking around and making sure that there were no people in the vicinity, she used her probe needle to get the device to give her some money. The ATM was essentially a computer, but extremely primitive compared to T-X.
Returning to the tramp, she said, "I've brought you some money," and before he could grab the bill, she warned. "You'll get them if you answer the questions!"
The overjoyed man was a little depressed, thinking: "Damn it, now she's going to start telling me about all sorts of social programs to help the homeless and other nonsense… But how does my head split!"
"All right, lady, ask your questions," the homeless man replied, trying not to lose his dignity and say it as if he was doing her a favor.
Terminatrix found out that the person's name was Wally Reynolds and that he had been homeless for almost twelve years. Though the timeline was of course approximate, Wally had long since lost track of time. Once upon a time, he had a home and a job, or rather, a service. Wally was a Marine and even took part in Operation Desert Storm, but after returning from Iraq, he began to drink under the influence of what he saw there. He was kicked out of the army, the fiancée he loved left him, there were no friends left, and the guy went downhill.
Although he regrets the past at times, he is now resigned and does not want to change anything. According to Wally, he doesn't have long to live, and all he needs is "grub and booze." When asked whether a person should try to save his life at all costs, Wally said that he probably should, but this is not his case. He also admitted that he is not particularly afraid of death.
"I've seen so much shit in this life, lady... Especially in the war, that I'm not afraid of anything now. Sometimes I even want to die as soon as possible," the man muttered thoughtfully, and expressing the hope that the interrogation was over, he looked at the banknote in T-X's hands.
She held out the money and, without a word, walked on. And Wally, looking at her, was surprised to find that he had become the owner of as much as a hundred dollars.
"Oh my! Good morning today!" The man even whistled.
For T-X, it made no difference whether she withdrew two dollars or a hundred dollars from an ATM. But for $100, she reasoned, this man would be more willing to share information. Namely, she needed information. As much information about people as possible! That is the task she has set for herself. And now, analyzing Wally's story, the terminator was drawing her own conclusions.