AN ALLEY IN ARIZONA CITY

Shawn, or “Stud” (as he liked to call himself), flicked his switchblade for what must have been the fortieth time in past five minutes.

He was frustrated.

His mate, Cooley, was supposed to have met him over an hour ago to sell some spliff, but so far there was no sight or sound of the guy. Where the hell is he? Shawn seethed, flicking his blade once again. As he examined the chrome blade and imagined the pain he’d deal out on Cool for being late, a small flash reflected across the length of the blade, drawing his attention down the alley in which he was currently loitering.

A spark (blue-ish in colour) flickered from one building to the next, fading as quickly as it appeared. Shawn frowned at the anomaly and was about to put it aside when a dozen sparks erupted out of nowhere, almost knocking him on his ass in surprise. An electronic high-pitched buzzing filled his ear drums, threatening to burst them with their intensity. His vision turned blindingly bright as a sphere of white light materialised in the vortex of lightning.

The noise became unbearable, and just when Shawn thought he could take no more, it mellowed to a low rumble and the light slowly began to fade. Shawn rubbed his eyes as he squinted at the bright blue sphere of energy before him, his uneducated mind awash in confusion.

The bubble fully dissipated, leaving an aura of smoke obscuring the shadowy form of a young man of approximately 19 years of age.

Not ever having sat at the bottom of the food chain in his very stunted life, Shawn was not easily intimidated by a flash of bright lights and inexplicable happenings. So he did not surprise himself when he took several steps towards the figure within the smoke. The shadow rose to its feet and some of the smoke cleared with the movement, revealing a portion of the boy’s face.

He was handsome and youthful, a figure of male perfection among his generation, with dark blonde hair that spiked up slightly like flickering flames. He regarded Shawn with a blank expression and tipped his head a little to one side thoughtfully, his eyes burning red upon registering a 67% clothes match. Acceptable, he decided.

Before Shawn could open his mouth to voice his surprise, the boy lunged at him and grabbed Shawn by the throat, holding him aloft.

Shawn instinctively jabbed his blade as deep into the boy’s ribs as he could, but his naked assailant remained unaffected and tightened his grip. Three seconds passed before Shawn’s neck snapped under the pressure and his body became limp and lifeless. The machine dropped Shawn to the floor and immediately field stripped the body, taking shoes, clothes, and anything else of worth in this time.

Finding a set of keys, one of which was meant for a primitive motorbike, the machine dragged the body behind a nearby dumpster and adjusted his clothing to compensate for his size. Satisfied that he was presentable, he set off at a steady pace to locate the human’s vehicle, finding it a little way down the alley near the empty road. He quickly mounted the bike and turned the key in the ignition; bringing the engine to life with a rasping whirring sound. The machine couldn’t help but wince a little at that sound, for it was so primitive.

>PRIORITY ONE: ACQUIRE APPROPRIATE ATTIRE
>PRIORITY TWO: SEEK CONTACT WITH APLHA UNIT

His directives were clear and simple to perform, so he wasted no time in kicking the bike into gear and pushing away down the road.

Kevin’s mission was restored once again.

--

SOMEWHERE IN THE ARIZONA DESERT

The air was cold as the night wind rushed into the truck’s interior, courtesy of their new “sunroof” and the mechanical nightmare that installed it. The occupants were shivering inside as Goosebumps started popping up all over their exposed skin, emphasising their discomfort. Sarah kept her foot pressed to the floor, determined to put as many miles between them and Skynet as they could.

Derek held his rifle close, almost cradling it like a small child, and perhaps scared that without it he might become a child himself. Sarah had seen him do this once before, when he first settled in their household and refused to sleep without a gun whilst Cameron was around. Seeing him do this same thing now only drove the point further; he was concerned. More so than he would like to admit, and that was a bad omen, for Derek was one of the bravest men she had ever known.

In the back seat Sophie was crying, small sobs barely heard over the howl of the wind above.

Sarah could hardly fathom why Jason would perform such a suicidal and self-sacrificial act, but looking back on it she knew it was not for their benefit, but for Sophie’s. Love makes heroes of us all, she mused with an ironic smile. Speaking of love, Sarah glanced into the middle seat to see Cameron had moved John onto his back, laying his head tenderly onto her lap while she stemmed the bleeding to his head.

He’d hit it fairly hard during The Vessel’s attack and had yet to regain consciousness. Sarah knew she should be more concerned, but she was convinced that he would pull through without any hassle. He was, as he’d proven earlier at gunpoint, particularly hard-headed. Derek would translate this as John being thick-headed, or dense, but that was just Derek for you.

Cameron carefully brushed John’s fringe back to reveal his handsome face, her fingers lightly touching his skin as she performed a scan on his injuries. Non-fatal, mild concussion, and no broken bones. Cameron let out a small sigh of relief and shifted his head slightly so that her thighs better accommodated his weight. As she’d done many times when he was asleep, even before she realised her feelings for him, Cameron stroked his hair and cheeks, her soft and now lukewarm fingers gently caressing his smooth skin.

“It’s unlike anything you could imagine, isn’t it?”

Cameron ceased her affections and turned to the source of the voice, Sophie, sitting in the back with red and puffy eyes. Though the wind muffled her words from Sarah and Derek’s ears, Cameron could hear her with perfect clarity. “What do you mean?” she replied, catching onto the strange mirror that she was now looking into. Seeing herself, yet not herself, crying was unsettling even to Cameron.

Sophie sniffed and stared at John with a look of sheer envy; “To love someone the way you do. To know what it’s like to feel them next to you, inside of you, always.” Cameron followed her gaze to John’s face and realised to whom she was referring; Jason.

“You and he were in love?” she asked the Infiltrator.

Sophie’s expression darkened and her fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms; “I loved him. I never knew if he felt the same.”

Fresh tears leaked down her cheeks as she cast a brief glance at the roof and whispered to herself; “I guess I’ll never find out.”

Cameron felt the need to reassure her somehow, that maybe Jason might not be dead, but she and Sophie both saw Skynet drive its fist into his stomach as they fled, and both knew that when he hit the ground he would never get up again. Still, Cameron knew that, if she were in Sophie’s position, she would want to hear some hope, no matter how illogical it might sound.

“Do you have anything to remember him by? Anything you can touch that will make you think of him?”

“He never gave me anything”, she snorted, instantly hating herself for being so harsh on him. Sophie gave Cameron a long and steady stare, her eyes drifting down to the machine’s stomach. “Well…” she said with a smirk; “At least you have something to remember him by if he never wakes up.”

Cameron placed a hand on her belly, almost as if by instinct, and Sophie caught the protective gesture and smiled sardonically.

“Maybe it would be better if he doesn’t wake up. How ever will you explain to him that he’s going to be a da-”, she began, but Cameron drew her Glock in a heartbeat, silencing her words. Sophie sneered as a single tear fell down her cheek and she tucked her legs underneath her, curling herself into a ball as she lay down upon her seat.

“You’ll have to tell him one day. It’s only a matter of time”, she added in a deadpan voice before closing her eyes and falling silent.

Cameron lowered the gun and turned back to face the front, only to be met by Derek’s less-than-welcome face.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked over the roaring wind.

Cameron shook her head and didn’t answer, returning her attention back to John as her thoughts lingered on Sophie’s words.

It was only a matter of time.

--

DISUSED MILITARY AID STATION (ARIZONA DESERT)

Skynet knew that, even before Kevin had reached for the door; its favourite construct had arrived.

Kevin, or T0K-792, was one of only two models of its design. Template Of Kill Series infiltrators, created specifically to replace important individuals who possessed close proximity to high priority targets. Kevin was built to mimic the young lover of General Valerii, a military genius in her own right. Unlike his sister model, Kevin completed his assignment and returned to Skynet for further instruction.

With his usefulness as an infiltrator limited, Skynet decided to download interrogation programmes into his CPU and set him to work, torturing captured Resistance fighters for information. He proved to be especially good at it, and Skynet would even go so far as to suggest he enjoyed his purpose. T0K models were dangerous though, given their potential for self-awareness, as the sister model had proven.

Skynet turned to acknowledge the machine, who simply stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room. They were in a surgery with various tools laid out across a tray, comprising of scalpels and bone saws to needles and clampers. It was perfectly apparent that Skynet was poised to perform a little surgery of its own. But on whom though?

No words were exchanged between them, no pleasantries or greetings, for they were machines, and machines cared not for such routines. Instead, a new order flashed in Kevin’s HUD: Interrogate Subject.

Kevin turned to the door on his left and stepped through it. Beyond it sat a man with dark hair and greenish-brown eyes, chained to the wall and bearing a deep puncture wound in his stomach, blood dripping freely from the injury. Jason didn’t move or make any gesture that might suggest he knew of Kevin’s presence, but as informed by his scanners, this was hardly something he could help.

Skynet brought the tray through and placed it to the side before leaning over Jason and removing a small device from the base of his skull. Jason let out a gasp and suddenly became mobile, but flopped to the floor, unable to move any of his limbs besides his jaw and tongue. Skynet regarded him without expression and turned to Kevin, placing the device on the tray along with the other tools.

“Go deep. Find out everything you can about the Connors and what resources they possess. And be sure to… figure him out.”

Kevin nodded and picked up a scalpel as Skynet left the room to attend to other matters.

“Affirmative”, Kevin quipped, lowering the knife to Jason’s skin.

--

SOMEWHERE IN THE ARIZONA DESERT

John’s eyelids flickered as he slowly regained consciousness, his senses reactivating one by one. He could hear a deafening roar overhead; his skin alerted him to the cold wind, and his eyes, though blurred at first, slowly cleared to reveal two pools of chocolate brown staring down at him adoringly. Her lips curled into a comforting smile that dulled the ache of his head, which felt tender upon her lap.

“Hey”, she cooed, stroking the side of his face lovingly as he struggled to regain coherence.

“What… happened…?” he asked in a croaky voice.

Cameron’s eyes softened as she continued her affections, helpfully brushing his hair out of his face; “You hit your head”, she answered.

John frowned up at her, gingerly reaching back to feel his head; “I did?”, but Cameron caught his hand and held it firmly in hers.

“Yes. You suffered a mild concussion but you’ll be okay in a couple of hours”, she explained, keeping her tone as soft as possible.

John gave her a lopsided grin and chuckled weakly, a result (she decided) of his concussion; “Have you been looking after me?”

Cameron leaned down and placed a tender kiss on his brow, her hand resting on his right cheek while her thumb continued to caress his skin. Though she wished him to always be healthy and strong; Cameron couldn’t help but adore him in these moments, when he was weak and yet happy at the same time. All the complications between them seemed to melt away, something that she’d only otherwise experienced during their most intimate exchange, when their bodies locked together for the very first time.

Accessing her memory banks, Cameron selected that particular memory and replayed it within her mind, the video covering her vision with a transparent screen. While still able to observe the John in her lap, she watched the John in her memories as he loomed over her like a bright and welcome cloud. His skin was illuminated like gold by the firelight as his fingers entwined with hers and he carefully entered her body, sending countless sensor feeds into her neural net.

Unlike John, who could only look back on that night and smile, Cameron could also relive what it felt like in that moment. Her mechanical body sent ghostly ripples of her past pleasures to every corner of her design, lighting her sensor board like a Christmas tree. Despite herself, Cameron whimpered at the memory as she barely touched upon the glorious ecstasy of their union.

John, the one in her lap, had regained enough coherence to realise she had become flushed and her body had warmed noticeably, which (though welcome in the cold air) was made stranger by the glazed look in her eye. John knew this look all too well. He would never forget the moment when he saw that spark of humanity deep within Cameron’s eyes, when her body quivered from their joined affections.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, trying to prop himself up on one elbow. Cameron tore herself away from the memory and closed the file, allowing her to look with unfiltered eyes upon the same John who had brought her so much joy before. Her bottom lip trembled for a moment as she considered her feelings carefully.

“I love you, John”, she whispered.

John’s face brightened considerably and he opened his mouth to reply, but Cameron placed a finger on his lips, silencing his words. She feared what they would do to her if she heard them. She was lying to him. She had been lying to him for many days now. His words would demand she tell him the truth, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t. Not now, not yet. Not when that knowledge would only serve to endanger him further. She could never allow that to happen, so she kept her silence and sealed it with a kiss, staying John’s words for now.

John smiled up at her and slowly closed his eyes again, falling back into the slumber from which he was untimely woken.

Cameron gently squeezed his hand and happened to glance up at the rear-view mirror, catching Sarah’s hawk-like gaze burning into her.

She would keep her silence.

--

DISUSED MILITARY AID STATION (ARIZONA DESERT)

Pain was a sensory reaction designed solely to inform the body that it was damaged or in jeopardy, and to teach the body to avoid harmful contacts in the future. Pain was a learning experience, a teacher, a guide. Jason was no stranger to this most brutal of instructors, and as Kevin dug the needle into a nerve nexus on his left temple, he knew what the lessons of the past had taught him.

Never submit.

For countless hours, Kevin had used every method at his disposal, elicited cries of every pitch, but nothing seemed to break the Infiltrator’s silence. Patience was a virtue found in all machines, but frustration was new to Kevin, and it stung him with every hour of failure that passed. Perhaps it was out of frustration that Kevin dug the needle deeper than was necessary, causing Jason to writhe in agony.

“Your pain receptors have been active for over six hours now. They are raw from the constant stimulation and will only get worse in time. Perhaps you are willing to submit to my questions now?” Kevin asked, reason telling him that if Jason could last this long he likely could last far longer.

Jason, his eyes slammed shut and his teeth bared, let out a strangled and defiant chuckle; “Ask all you want. I’m an open book.”

An effective tactic, to lure the interrogator into a false sense of triumph before shutting down again; Kevin was not a fool though.

“Where will the Connors go? Where are they likely to hide?” he asked despite the futility of his efforts.

Jason continued to laugh at his torturer, opening a single eye to look at the source of the pain. A part of him wondered why he was resisting, why he shouldn’t just help Skynet find Connor and kill him. What did he owe John, or Sarah, or Derek, or even Cameron? His affection for the machine had long faded after his being “re-built” and after he got to know…

Sophie

She was the reason he fought the pain. If Skynet found them, it would certainly kill her too. Jason would die before he allowed that to happen, so he took the pain and fed on it, using her image as an anchor for his resolve. His death was near, he could feel it. There was only so much an anomalous creation such as himself could take in the end. His endoskeleton was fractured by Skynet’s attack and his energy cell was rapidly losing containment. It would soon burn out and he would no longer have the power to keep his mind alive.

Kevin was aware of this, and it only fed his frustration that he could not get Jason to talk.

The Infiltrator laughed again, knowingly testing Kevin’s threshold; “You… will never find them. They’re like ghosts on the wind.”

Metaphors were not lost on the machine, and he knew that if Jason could get this far and still be able to wisecrack, he would never spill the secrets he possessed.

Kevin had failed.

Removing the needle and slamming it on the table, Kevin marched out of the room and stopped three paces short of Skynet, who had somehow gathered a wealth of endoskeletal parts. Skynet was currently working on an arm, adjusting the pistons to ensure perfect fluidity of movement. Upon closer inspection, Kevin recognised the parts as belonging to a T0K model Terminator, almost identical to his design.

“How did you acquire these?” he asked, putting aside his report in favour of satisfying his current curiosity.

Skynet did not bother to look up and address Kevin, instead continuing to work on the arm with a torque wrench.

“I contacted a nearby T-888 and ordered it to come here to be decommissioned. This model possesses all the components I require to replicate a Series T0K endoskeleton.”

“What is this model’s purpose?” Kevin wondered, examining the pieces with interest.

“You are supposed to be interrogating the I-950. Your being here tells me that you have been unsuccessful in that regard.”

If shame were an emotion he could feel, Kevin felt it now.

“I suspected he would not divulge what I need. I did create him after all. So I saw fit to make arrangements. This is one of them.”

Kevin once again scanned the endoskeletal pieces before him and nodded in understanding, even though Skynet could not see him.

“I have a new task for you.”

“You do?” Kevin asked, genuinely surprised by this news. Skynet picked up on this and turned to face him, its green eyes boring into him.

“You are to track down the Connors and terminate them.”

Kevin considered this command for a moment as it recorded itself into his mission profile, overwriting his former objective. Why would Skynet order him to find the Connors, a very strenuous task, when the key to finding them was within their grasp? Simple, Kevin assumed, Skynet sees Jason as a redundancy plan in case I fail. This was its intention all along.

“You would be much more likely to find them than me”, he pointed out, wondering at Skynet’s logic.

“That is true. But my presence in this timeline is extremely delicate. I must be careful in regards to exposing myself.”

Understandable, Kevin agreed. Skynet was a paradox and anything it does has far greater repercussions than Kevin would.

“Find them. Kill them. Then report back to me.”

Kevin nodded once again and marched out of the surgery, disappearing down the corridor towards the exit.

Skynet held the arm up to eye level, examining its work, and deemed it optimal. It then placed the limb on the autopsy table and reformed its right arm to create a welder. Holding the arm in place, Skynet brought the welder down into the joints and burned them into place, taking great care to preserve the full flexibility of movement. The factories created these machines day and night in the future, so Skynet had little trouble in the construction of one single machine.

With the final piece attached, Skynet held its forefinger over the underside of the machine’s jaw and burned its designation there.

T0K-979

--

Jason often imagined how he might meet his end. He had come face to face with death on multiple occasions and had walked away every time. But this was different. He knew he would not walk away from this. Skynet stepped onto the threshold and raised its plasma cannon. A bright light, followed by a rushing sensation, and then silence…

…and one final thought: compartmentalisation.


To be continued…


Next: Chapter 04
Previous: Chapter 02