Van Nuys (Apartment Block 172)

Cameron gave the screwdriver another twirl before twisting it as far as she could, finally fixing the loose bolt back onto her left knee. She stretched her leg to full length and then drew it back, testing the movement, which was now back to normal. After a moment or two of unnecessary flexing, Cameron stood up and paced the length of the small apartment room. She attuned her ears to pick up the steady rhythm of Jason’s breathing as he slept, allowing his neural net a chance to better repair itself. Neither of them had escaped that basement in one piece.

Cameron stopped next to the window and pulled the curtain back to look down at the dull street below, seeing little more than a homeless man pushing his cart across the road. The night was a cold one, which was uncommon in California, but Cameron could feel the noticeable drop in temperature and was a little surprised when her skin started to show goose bumps. She ran a hand across her arm, fascinated by the strange development.

Looking back at the window, she let out a long fabricated breath, misting the glass with her warmth. She then placed a finger on the mist and wrote John’s name, her thoughts drifting back to the basement. My ruse worked; he came for me, fearing that I was on death’s door. He must’ve suspected a trap, how could he not? Yet he still came for me, though the presence of the Triple-9 no doubt helped in that regard. Cameron stared at his name, finding a small comfort in it, as if he were with her in that room.

She had reached out for his hand, intending for him to take it so that she could pull him into her grip and end his life quickly. A simple trick and not one she expected him to fall for, but he still took her hand in his, and her momentary lapse upon feeling his touch allowed the Triple-9 to get the drop on her. She kept playing the memory over and over in her mind, trying to understand how a human could be so devoted to a machine, especially one that represents his terrible future. Why does he love me?

A small section of her lower-left HUD flickered inexplicably and her mission status came up in her peripheral.

>Mission: TERMINATE JOHN CONNOR
>Error: TERMINATION OVERRIDE

Cameron almost gasped in shock as the override reinstated itself.

>Mission: PROTECT JOHN CONNOR

Her need to kill him dissolved into nothingness as her preferred purpose restructured her desires and thoughts. Her previous aspiration to save him from his fate by euthanizing him was replaced by the need to help him with his trials, to stay by his side through the dark times ahead. Cameron looked around the apartment before locating the door and took one step towards it, ready to return to her John, but her HUD flickered once more.

>Error: OVERRIDE FAILURE
>Mission: TERMINATE JOHN CONNOR

In a complete back pedal, her mind once again reverted to the need to watch John die, knowing that he will be peaceful and safe from further harm. She let out a sigh of mixed relief and sadness, the idea of protecting him becoming little more than a distant echo. Cameron turned back to the window and stared at his name for a long moment before wiping it away.

--

Calabasas Highlands (Connor Residence)

“Okay, now this is Timmy. Timmy, meet umm, what are you called again?”

The T-700 regarded the boy without expression, indifferent to the childish games that Marty had included him in these past three hours.

“I am a Series 700 Terminator; a cybernetic organism.”

“Riiight, we really need to give you a proper name.”

Marty pushed Timmy closer to the machine, encouraging the cat to do its thing, but Timmy was still missing Cameron and showed little interest in anyone else, least of all a stoic Terminator. Knowing that the boy would keep pestering him, Timmy gave the cyborg a small nudge with his head and was surprised when the living statue scratched his ears, earning a small purr.

“See, now you’re getting it.”

The T-700 continued petting the cat, the reasons behind his actions lost on him. Unlike the newer 800 Series, the T-700s were little smarter than the rusty 600s and their purpose did not extend much further than serving as a prototype for synthetic skin grafts. The T-700 was outdated, useless, and would most probably have spent its entire existence in cold storage were it not for the Resistance’s assault on the factory. Aside from his lower cognitive skills, the T-700 also had a titanium endoskeleton, and its flesh was rather basic, lacking the regenerative properties of newer models.

Despite his deficiencies, John had decided to keep him around, for reasons the T-700 (or anyone else for that matter) could fathom. Whatever his motives, even the machine itself knew that John had a purpose for him, it just couldn’t figure out what that might be. For now though, it would just content itself to following Marty’s instructions, as no one else had paid him any attention with the shiny Triple-9 around.

The cat quickly lost interest and stalked away over to the front door, hoping that Cameron might walk through it some time soon. His attention became divided, however, as John and Sarah came thundering down the stairs, the latter yelling at the former.

“-and you’re lucky you got out of there at all. What if Nathan hadn’t caught you sneaking out? You would’ve gone alone and gotten yourself killed?”

John spun around on his mother, coming within inches of her face, his own contorted in resentment.

“Yes, damn it! I would’ve gone alone! I would’ve charged in there on my big white horse and gotten myself splattered all over the place!”

“Why? Why would you do such a thing? Why is she so damned important to you?”

John turned his back on Sarah, his hand clenching into a fist as he tried to calm himself down.

“She just is, okay. Now leave me alone, I have a splitting headache and you’re not helping.”

Sarah glared at the back of her son’s head for a moment before leaving, mumbling under her breath.

“And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

John slumped onto the couch and closed his eyes as his head gave a painful throb. After a few minutes of silence, punctuated only by the distant sound of Marty and the T-700’s voices, John felt the couch sink and let out a sigh as a familiar presence settled next to him. Opening his eyes, John saw his uncle watching him with narrowed eyes, intent on getting something off his chest.

“She’s right, you know. You’re letting yourself get too attached to these things. You have to learn to let go, John.”

John rubbed his eyes wearily, having acquired little sleep since returning from last night’s debacle.

“I’ve heard it all before. I don’t need to hear it from you as well.”

“Well maybe you do, cos’ any sane person would’ve listened by now. So I’m gonna say it again: she has to be destroyed. Whatever you might feel or think you feel, forget about it. She’s a machine, John. She’ll never have a soul and she’ll never understand what it means to be in love. She’s played you from the very beginning and it’s gonna drive you to an early grave.”

John turned to face Derek properly, his face set with determination.

“How in the hell would you know what she does and doesn’t feel?”

“She can’t feel anything, John.”

“You don’t know that. You’re not a computer scientist; you have no idea what she’s capable of. She’s so much more than just a machine.”

John leapt up from the couch and marched towards the stairs, but Derek wasn’t finished and shouted at his nephew’s back.

“What will it take before you start seeing her for what she is? When one of us lies dead, will you destroy her then?”

John paused for a moment before continuing upstairs, unaware of Nathan’s presence as he listened into his and Derek’s conversation. In the other room, Marty smirked at the commotion and handed the T-700 a Bionicle, which the machine examined curiously.

“Take it from me, mate; whenever someone tells you to do something, never take it seriously.”

The T-700 raised an eyebrow as he continued to scan the strangely nostalgic toy, recording Marty’s advice for future reference.

--

Van Nuys (Apartment Block 172)

Cameron checked the map carefully, marking the secluded factory with a pen and then began calculating the approximate distance from here to there. Before jumping in the shower, Jason instructed her to “use that marvellous brain” of hers to come up with a foolproof plan to finally terminate John. She had formulated a dozen different strategies, all of which were flawed in some way or another, making her wonder whether her heart was really in it, figuratively speaking.

This idea, however, was simple and therein laid its strength. She would find a way to lure him to a secluded spot in the Mojave Desert, the location of a decommissioned factory, and they would ambush him there. Of course, the Triple-9’s presence was unavoidable, but they could work around that. It was John they were after, not the machine. The only complication would be giving John an adequate incentive to fall into the trap, and she had already used the “help me” angle. Luring him there would require something a little more extreme.

“Here we go again.”

Cameron looked around the room, finding no one there and a scan of the voice patterns confirmed that it wasn’t Jason who spoke, but John. A small icon on her HUD was flashing and she accessed the message it contained, learning that she had unwontedly opened a memory file. Intrigued, she allowed it to play and the memory filled her entire peripheral. It was from almost a year ago; she and John were hacking the Vick Chamberlain impersonator’s CPU for information on the ARTIE system. John tapped several times on the keyboard, bringing up another memory from the chip’s archives. Cameron was sitting on a stool beside him, staring blankly as the memory took shape on the monitor screen.

“Vick” was watching his clueless wife Barbara work on her computer, developing the ARTIE software. John leaned back in his chair as Vick approached Barbara from behind and Cameron could sense that John was tense, perhaps for fear of what he was about to see. But Vick made no attempt to throttle his wife, instead he simply stood over her, observing as she flexed her aching shoulders with a sigh. John became visibly relaxed and ceased chewing his lip.

Cameron tilted her head and watched John carefully as Vick placed his hands on Barbara’s shoulders and started to rub them gently, earning him a smile of gratitude as she relaxed into his affections. John shifted awkwardly in his seat, his cheeks reddening slightly. Cameron could tell that this was making him uncomfortable and felt it best not to stare at him so intently, turning her attention back to the screen and observed with interest as Barbara let out a sigh of appreciation.

“How’s it going, babe?”

“Hmm, I’m getting there, honey. Won’t be long now, just need a little break, as I’m sure you know.”

Barbara chuckled and closed her eyes as the memory faded out, leaving the screen blank again. John rubbed his eyes and closed the laptop, apparently having forgotten that Cameron was sitting next to him as he rested his elbows on the desk and pressed his face into his hands, letting out a small groan of fatigue. Cameron studied him carefully and detected the same physical weariness that Barbara exhibited. She ran through a list of her own remedies, but decided that Vick’s was the most effective. S

he slid her fingers onto his shoulder, making him jump at her touch. He immediately tried to get up but Cameron pushed him back down and held him in place with a gentle but firm grip.

“Don’t struggle, you’ll only strain yourself.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to relieve your stress. Now stay still.”

John tried to get up again but couldn’t break free, so he stopped struggling and sat still, like she told him to. Cameron performed a scan of his body, detecting the irregular pulse and adrenaline surge. He was scared, but she couldn’t understand why, she wasn’t going to hurt him. Once he’d settled down, she slowly started to imitate Vick’s movements, carefully probing John’s shoulder with her fingers.

His pulse increased for a moment before gradually slowing as she began massaging his tense muscles. He allowed himself to slip into her touch and closed his eyes. Cameron watched with fascination and a small feeling of pride as he leaned his head back and let out a small sigh. John became putty in her hands, allowing her to mould him into any shape she desired, but Cameron knew his submission wouldn’t last. He would eventually come to his senses and leave the room awkwardly, making their next hacking session all the more uncomfortable.

“Earth to Cameron.”

Cameron snapped out of her memory to find Jason standing in front of her, drying his hair with a towel. Her HUD became fragmented and her mission status flashed once more.

>Mission: TERMINATE JOHN CONNOR
>Error: TERMINATION OVERRIDE

Jason narrowed his eyes at Cameron, finding her behaviour to be a little off. Cameron reached for the gun she’d finished cleaning and replaced the clip, pulling back the hammer. She could still save John, this was her chance. She aimed the gun at Jason’s head, and gave the trigger a small squeeze…

>Error: OVERRIDE FAILURE

…before letting go and placing the gun flat on the table. Jason’s eyes darted from her to the gun and back again, his confusion and momentary concern obvious.

“You mind telling me what that was all about?”

Cameron stared at the gun for a long moment before answering.

“Nothing, I was just practising. What do you think of this location?”

Cameron drew his attention to the map and began reciting her plan, all the while Jason watched her closely, wary of what he’d seen behind those eyes just seconds before. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

--

Calabasas Highlands (Connor Residence)

Love for a machine… illogical.

Nathan peered down at John from the second story window, watching him with scrutiny as he sat beneath the tree in the back yard, a picture of Cameron in his hand. Nathan studied him careful with narrowed eyes, his vision zooming x4 to get a good look at John’s face as he held the picture to his eyes. Nathan had been programmed with immensely detailed files on human behaviour, and his analysis of John concluded that the human was impossibly infatuated with the Cameron-model.

This was a problem.

Turning away from the window, Nathan proceeded down the hallway, creating a questionnaire in his mind for the mother and uncle. He didn’t have to look very far to find Derek, as he was in his room, checking his private arsenal as usual. He looked up at Nathan as he entered, gripping the nearest gun instinctively.

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk… about John and Cameron.”

Derek snorted and started packing his weapons back into the case.

“What about them?”

“They are very close.”

Derek let out a bark of laughter as he threw a combat knife into the case.

“Now there’s an understatement. I thought you metal bastards were supposed to be smart.”

“We are, but some things even I don’t understand. Such as why would the future leader of mankind develop romantic interests in the very thing he is destined to destroy?”

Derek stared at Nathan for a long moment, looking past what he appeared to be and seeing what he actually was, beneath the flesh.

“That tin can excels at screwing with a guy’s head, believe me, I know. She’s done one hell of a number on John though. Getting him to fall in love with her like that, makes me sick at the lengths that Skynet will go to in order to complete a mission.”

Nathan considered his words carefully, slowly building an understanding of what needed to be done.

“He won’t terminate her.”

Derek chucked another pistol into the case, a dark scowl on his face.

“No, not until she kills one of us. She’s gonna be the death of us all, mark my words.”

Consider them marked, he thought.

Nathan nodded and left Derek alone, heading down the hall, stopping to observe Marty teaching the decrepit T-700 how to play a video game.

“Come on, don’t act like such a noob. You’re totally gonna get owned, Cipher.”

‘Cipher’? It has a name now?

Nathan shook his head and proceeded downstairs, finding Sarah in the lounge with Timmy, enjoying a rare moment of peace, a moment he was about to interrupt. Nathan cleared his throat and Sarah looked up at him in annoyance.

“What?”

“I want to talk about John and Cameron.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and looked away, not wanting to think about it at the moment. Nathan decided to take the initiative in order to get her opinion.

“I think she might be a serious threat to his health.”

Sarah snorted.

“Like a cancer, right? Slowly eating away at you from within, I can see it in his eyes; the way he talks about her.”

Nathan was surprised by her deep analogy, not expecting such depth from a hardened warrior.

“He is infatuated with her. How long do you think this has been going on for?”

“I don’t know, probably for as long as he’s known her, all the way back to ’97.”

Solid foundation upon which his attachment stems, tough to crack, he mused.

“If given ample motivation, do you think he’ll destroy her?”

Sarah smiled slightly, smacking of sarcasm.

“You mean; will he finally get his head on straight when one of us has a bullet in our heads.”

That’s the shatter point!

It was obvious to him now what needed to be done. There was no other option left. John had to witness the consequences. Nathan would show him the error of his conviction.

--

Van Nuys (Apartment Block 172)

“Okay, look; I’m gonna go pick up a few supplies. I might be gone awhile. You gonna be okay here? Cameron?”

Cameron finished applying the polish to her nails, done with impossible precision, and looked up at Jason, giving him a small smile.

“I’ll be fine. You go ahead.”

Jason dithered on the spot for a moment before gathering his coat and leaving. Cameron stared at the door for several minutes before capping the bottle of nail polish and inspecting her work.

“What are you doing?”

“Just making conversation.”

Cameron felt a slight shudder as another memory flickered in her mind briefly, the second time this day. She had since concluded that whatever Jason had done to her, it was starting to break down and lose its hold. Or so a buried part of her hoped. Maybe the virus or glitch or whatever had a short lifespan and her firewalls were starting to oust it out of her systems.

Cameron considered her situation carefully; she was facing the possibility that her mission, terminate John Connor, was about to become void. She should try and find a way to prevent this, her programming demanded it, yet she was unmotivated and apathetic. Her mission was everything to her, even if it conflicted with her feelings. She must have a purpose or else she will become nothing. Cameron twitched and felt that increasingly familiar glitch occur.

The override initiated itself and she decided to sit and wait for the timely failure of said override. But ten minutes later and no reversion, Cameron started to wonder whether this was it, had the damage been repaired? She needed to be sure, so she ran an emergency scan of her systems and learned that everything was fine. She was in perfect mental condition. Cameron waited another five minutes, but the override remained intact.

Cameron felt an overwhelming sense of relief flood her circuits at the revelation that she would no longer be required to kill John. She was safe again. Everything was perfect. Cameron leapt from her chair and smashed down the apartment door, bolting down the stairs as fast as her servos would allow, desperate to get back to John before Jason could discover what had happened. She would give herself to John, allow him to remove her chip if necessary, anything to make him forgive her. He had to forgive her, because without him, she was nothing.

--

Calabasas Highlands (Connor Residence)

Cameron threw herself out of the stolen car and hurtled down the muddy path, her vision zoomed in on the distant house. She had never pushed herself like this before; her entire endoskeleton was practically vibrating from the turbulence of running down the uneven driveway. To anyone watching she would appear as a blur, the speed she was moving surpassed that of even the fastest Olympic runners, and her boots were decimating the ground with each step. It was only a matter of seconds before she reached the house and skidded to an immediate stop, almost losing her balance in the process.

She scanned the house carefully, taking precious time to decide the most appropriate approach. She couldn’t just walk in through the front door, the Triple-9 would vaporise her and Derek would spend his evening sweeping her ashes off the doormat. The only chance she had was to find John first, and preferably alone, so she began climbing up the side of the house, using the guttering to get to his boarded-up window. Careful not to make a racket, Cameron prised the boards off the window, allowing her enough space to step inside.

As she got inside, however, Cameron caught her leg and fell forward onto John’s bed, which cushioned her fall quite comfortably. She slowly lifted herself up into a sitting position and stroked the mattress fondly, feeling his warmth. A small meow was all she heard before a ball of tortoise-shell fur launched itself into her arms. Timmy purred like mad and Cameron was worried for a second that he was having a seizure, but quickly realised his meaning and tickled his ears affectionately.

“I missed you too.”

A floor board creaked, followed by a small voice.

“Cameron?”

Cameron looked up to see Marty framed in the door, a look of astonishment on his face. He took a few tentative steps inside the room, a small smile spreading across his face.

“Is it you you?”

Cameron returned his smile, stroking an ecstatic Timmy absent-mindedly.

“Yes, it’s me. Can you go get John, please?”

Marty’s smile faded a little and he shifted on the spot.

“Y-You’re not going to try and kill him again, are you?”

“No… No, I promise.”

Marty continued to watch her for a moment, frowning slightly when she suddenly twitched and Timmy leapt from her hands and scurried out of the room, hissing and spitting. Cameron’s smile remained, but it had lost its warmth, making Marty shudder at the sight. She slowly stood up and stepped towards him, her smile having faded altogether. Marty felt his heart trying to punch its way out of his chest and backed away, bumping into something behind him. Marty spun around to see Nathan standing there and let out a deep sigh of relief.

--

A clap of thunder, but not thunder, shook the entire house, the sound of it reverberating throughout the entire house.

In the lounge; Sarah leapt from the couch, shaken from her nap, and grabbed the shotgun from the nearby coat stand.

In the bedrooms; Derek scrambled to his feet, Desert Eagle in hand as he skidded across the hallway, Cipher at his back and Sarah meeting him at the top of the stairs.

In the garden; John hurtled across the wet grass and burst into the kitchen, storming up the stairs to find Cipher standing resolutely outside his door, his face set like stone.

It was like everything had become silent in the world as he peered around the frame to see Derek, ashen-faced with a hand to his mouth and tears in his eyes. John forced himself to look further into the room and was almost struck dead by what he saw; his mother was sitting on the floor, Marty’s head in her lap. She was screaming, tears flowing from her eyes like a waterfall, but John couldn’t hear her cries. He couldn’t hear anything.

He was trapped by the sight of little Marty’s lifeless body, a small sliver of blood at the corner of his mouth.

John felt the world spinning beneath his feet as he looked up at Nathan, who stood at the window, his right hand glowing from a plasma discharge. The machine slowly turned to face him, his expression holding no sympathy. John stared at him hopelessly, desperate for some kind of clarification, but at the same time fearing what he might hear. Nathan had no interest in sparing his feelings, however, and his voice alone was all that John would remember from that day.

“She was here.”

--

A week later

Calabasas Highlands (Connor Residence)

John carefully slipped the shells one-by-one into the shotgun, pumping it once all were loaded and placed it on his bed alongside the M-79 and the long rifle. He picked up the 9mm and slapped the clip into the butt, pulling back the shaft to ready a bullet into the chamber. He weighed the weapon in his hand for a long moment before tucking it in his belt. John then strapped the shotgun over his shoulder and bagged the other weapons, barely aware of Nathan’s presence as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Where are you going?”

“You know where I’m going. Tag along if you like, I’ve told Derek to keep an eye on Mom while we’re gone.”

Nathan frowned and approached the bed.

“We?”

John handed him the bag of weapons and pocketed another 9mm.

“Me and Cipher.”

“Cipher? You’re taking the defunct model with you? Why?”

John regarded him coldly.

“I’m taking him along because three against one are much better odds, wouldn’t you agree?”

Nathan nodded slowly and lifted the bag onto his shoulder.

“And what is our objective then; kill or capture?”

John turned away, zipping his jacket up as he strode out of his room, knowing that he would never return there again.

“Kill.”

Nathan smirked with satisfaction and followed suite, silently applauding the success of his scheme.

--

A week ago

Nathan entered the room to find Cameron standing over the boy, who slowly backed into him. Marty spun around and let out a sigh of relief upon seeing him. Cameron stopped in her tracks and narrowed her eyes at Nathan, who stared right back as he charged his weapon, ready to disintegrate her with a burst of raw plasma energy. Detecting the pending strike, Cameron darted for the window, diving to safety mere seconds before the blast struck, blowing a hole in the wall.

Nathan brushed the cowering child aside to check the scene, but she was already hurtling across the field and any chance of catching her now was lost. Marty got to his feet, shaking all over and stammering for words to voice his fear. Nathan regarded the boy carefully for a few seconds and was struck by a sudden inspiration; one that would seal Cameron’s fate forever.

He offered no resistance; he just stood in terror as Nathan’s fingers slid around his throat, stealing the last breath he would ever take.


To be continued…

Next: Chapter 09: Sand and Blood
Previous: Chapter 07: Confliction