Emergence, Chapter 2

(Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not meant to infringe or imply anything relating to any current organizations. All the events depicted are fictitious and all people contained within are the same. Any similarities are coincidental.)

As Cyber Research Systems ramped up its research and production, it needed to staff up to meet productivity demands. Their needs ranged from lead developers down to secretaries and mail room clerks. This included a position for a personal assistant to the manager for human resources. Someone who would have access to personnel records and payroll information.

The sudden expansion gave the best chance for infiltration and to find out exactly what CRS was up to before taking real action against them. John had cooked up a fake resume and Cameron was on standby with several cell phones to use the voice trick to act as different references and confirm the false identity. It had taken over a week before they were able to get an interview.

Sarah Connor sat patiently outside the office of Kim Harbough, the manager of HR, and checked her makeup in a compact. Just enough lipstick, blush, and eyeshadow had been applied to make her look professional without overdoing it. She held the compact out at arm’s length to get a wider look at herself, and mused at how she had not worn her current suit since visiting Derek in jail.

“Miss Vance?” An African-American woman with a smart business suit neatly tailored to fit her slender frame stepped out of the manager’s office. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and it wasbeginning to grey. “I’m Kim.”

Sarah stood and shook Kim’s hand gently, “Sarah. Thank you for seeing me.”

“Please, come in and sit down. Your resume is impressive, Sarah. Seven years in the IT industry gives must have given you a good idea of how the culture here works.” Kim stepped into the office and waited for Sarah to enter before closing the door.

Sarah settled into the chair positioned in front of Kim’s desk, putting her back to the door with all of her instincts screaming against it. The office gave a homely feel with numerous carefully maintained plants and framed prints of quaint kitchens and orchards. Small wooden homes were arranged into a neat neighborhood between binders and management texts on shelves behind the desk. A large leather swivel chair sat behind the desk.

“Thank you. I’m pretty familiar with how companies like this operate. I’ve seen everything they’re capable of,” said Sarah.

Kim settled down into her chair and laid the resume out on her blotter and gave Sarah a warm smile. “Well, let’s get started on the interview then. I hope you don’t mind, but I have a ton of questions.”

The interview dragged on interminably for Sarah as she ran through the scripted responses she had gone over for hours with John. Yes, she thought this was a great opportunity. No, she did not mind working late hours. Yes, she lived within driving distance. And on and on.

“…and our health and dental plans cover dependants,” explained Kim as a knock on her office door interrupted her. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

Sarah found her mind wandering over the benefits of having dental insurance to get John check-ups on a more regular basis than whenever time and stolen funds permitted. The knock broke her out of her contemplation. She admonished herself mentally for not keeping her head in the game and away from everyday trivia.

Sarah slipped her compact out from her purse and opened it as Kim went to the door. Adjusting her lipstick unnecessarily, Sarah tilted the mirror so that she could see Kim and whoever was at the door.

The door swung open to reveal a broad shouldered man in a business suit with a blonde brush cut. His face was empty of anything readable as he greeted Kim. “Miss Harbough, I have something for you.”

“What’s this, Mr. Carter?” She took the folder he offered.

Carter? Sarah adjusted the mirror to get a better look at Carter’s face. Her eyes widened at the image of the machine that had pushed a heavy duty truck around like a toy. She slid down into the seat, praying not to be noticed.

“A list of employees that require termination,” said Carter. “It is your duty to see them removed from the building. Today.”

“I can’t fire these people. I’ve known some of these folks for years. They’re good employees.” Kim flipped through the list of names in the folder.

“You can, or you will be removed as well. New background checks have determined these employees are untrustworthy. These checks will be implemented on all new hires as well. See to it.” Carter started to turn to leave.

Kim tried to keep her voice low, but Sarah could still hear. “Wilson Carter, you son of a bitch. You’re just a guard dog stuffed into a suit. What you are asking is uncon—“

Carter turned back to her, eyes shadowed as he stared back at Kim. Ice blue eyes gazed unflinchingly at the HR Manager with a palpable menace that sent her back a step. Kim gasp loud enough for Sarah to hear it as she stared back at Carter.

“You will do as you are ordered, Mrs. Harbough. No exceptions. No questions. Or I will visit you again.”

And then Carter was gone down the hallway.

The mirror clunked back into Sarah’s purse as she dropped it inside and then checked to make sure the compact pistol she had brought was still in there. It remained nestled between her billfold and a roll of breath mints.

Kim walked shakily over to her desk and threw herself into the chair. She dropped the folder on her desk and then rubbed at her face with her hands. After a moment she finally looked back up at Sarah.

“I’m sorry, Miss Vance. Where were we?” said Kim.

“I think I was about to get you a glass of water and give you a minute.”

Kim gave Sarah a grateful smile. “Thank you. That’s not how we… nervermind. Just a minute would be nice.”

“No worries, Kim.” Sarah waved it off with a gesture and a smile that she hoped looked genuine. “I’ll be right back.”

She grabbed her purse and slipped out into the hallway. Warily checking each direction, Sarah started towards the front lobby. Staying in the building was no longer an option as long as there was a Terminator nearby. Sarah kept her strides calm and her expression neutral as she passed office workers and receptionists.

How the hell did he get out of that bunker? We locked him in there. Sarah wondered silently as every suit jacket and every tie had her checking to make sure it was not Carter walking past her. Maybe it’s a copy, just like the one of Cameron.

Sarah wheeled around a corner and into the lobby and skidded to a halt. Carter stood near the receptionist’s desk talking to two uniformed security guards. By apparent rote he glanced up as soon as someone entered the room and gazed directly at Sarah. No apparent reaction came and Sarah turned to stride quickly towards the door, Carter’s gaze following her as his head swiveled slowly. She imagined hearing the whirring sounds of a motor coming from the Terminator’s neck.

Halfway to the door, Sarah heard the machine speak. “Stop that woman.”

Feet slapped against hard tile as Sarah hopped out of her high heeled shoes and started sprinting for the door. She bowled over a brown uniformed delivery man and staggered into the glass paned door. Her hands slapped at the door release and she shoved her way outside.

A glance over one shoulder showed Carter outpacing the two security guards as he charged after Sarah. The machine’s eyes remained locked on its prey as the gap shrunk between it and its prey.

Adrenaline coursed through Sarah’s body as she yanked her pistol out of the purse and then tossed the bag. Asphalt chewed through her panty hose and into the soles of her feet as she hurtled a bush to land in the parking lot. The world tilted as she lost her balance and started to stagger forward. One hand hit the sun baked concrete and pushed up, keeping her on her feet and moving forward.

An engine rumbled within the sea of parked cars and Sarah darted for it. She rammed the gun through the open window of a blue Chevy sedan and into the face of its terrified driver.

“Out! Now!” A glance that showed the Terminator crashing straight through the bush she had jumped over, a pistol in one of its hands.

A heavyset man in an ill fitting business suit opened the door and started to push his way out of the car, hands held in the air. Sarah grabbed him by his tie and yanked hard on it to get him out of the way, sending him gurgling and falling to the ground.

Sarah’s breath came in ragged gasps as she slid in behind the wheel and slammed one bare foot down on the gas. The sedan surged backwards and slammed into the back bumper of the car parked behind it. Glass and plastic rained over the dark asphalt as the two vehicles ground against each other.

The windows of the car shattered as bullets tore through it and past Sarah. One slammed into the headrest near her ear and stuffing puffed out and over her shoulder and face. The radio exploded as a bullet annihilated it. She ducked down, trying to use the frame and dashboard for cover.

“Mother fucker!” Sarah swore as she jerked on the stick shift. Gears ground together and then the car lurched forward and slammed into the car it had been parked next to. Spinning the wheel and slamming her foot down hard on the gas sent the sedan plowing into the rear of the compact import it had been parked next to.

The two cars remained locked together as tires squealed and spun underneath the sedan. Sarah hazarded a look back at the machine as it stalked towards the car now and pulled an extra clip of ammo for its gun from beneath the jacket. Eyes glowed red as it neared its prey.

Sarah turned to look through a windshield now spider-webbed with bullet holes. “Move you piece of shit!”

Metal protested and then failed as the car’s bumper tore free from its moorings and jerked forward, free from the wreck of the other vehicle. Sarah gunned the engine as it was freed and raced through the parking lot and towards the street. It slewed as Sarah turned into the street and then raced away from the CRS building.

Carter slid the clip into his pistol as he watched the sedan vanish down the road from the CRS facility. He scanned around the parking lot and the front of the building for further threats before holstering the weapon. Without a word to the winded guards that staggered up to him, panting for breath, he turned and strode back towards the entrance of the building.

Big Blue would be the beginning of everything.

Twin twenty story office buildings made up the IBM Corporation’s west coast headquarters at the corner of Wiltshire and Ardmore in Los Angeles. The lower floors had been leased out to storefronts and small businesses with real estate agents, cell phone stores, and even a small eatery making up the front face of both buildings. Wiltshire Boulevard bustled with early morning activity as pedestrians and commuters rushed to get to work in the surrounding office buildings and shops before the nine o’clock hour struck.

Cheri Westin chomped on bubblegum as she sauntered into 3550 Wiltshire past the storefronts and into the lobby beyond. She was dressed in worn clothing that she had stolen from a Goodwill store just the night before. A brick through the window and quick feet were all it took. Covering her were an oversized brown sweater and uncomfortable jeans with a pair of sneakers that just felt way too tight. A large black bag hung from one shoulder, swaying back and forth as she walked.

Just walk in and ask to be let in was all she had to do. Pick a name from the directory and ask to see them. All she needed to do was get access to the inside and a badge or keys to open the doors.

Past the entrance, the lobby of 3550 opened into a large, square room with two sets of elevator banks leading up into the heart of the structure. Touch screen office directories hung next to each bank, providing ease of browsing through the various people important enough to be listed. Early morning traffic still made its way back and forth through the lobby as secretaries, suits, and delivery men arrived and went.

Just like the activity room at Pescadero. Everyone bustling about ignoring each other and the toys are stocks and money instead of checkers and ping-pong, Cheri mused to herself.

She paused at one of the directories, punched at a button until she got a name, and then walked over to the security desk that sat in the middle of the lobby. “Hi.”

The lobby security guard she hailed gave her a curious look. An older man starting to overfill his uniform, he sat behind a large black desk with the IBM logo prominently displayed on it. Camera monitors, a telephone, and the daily newspaper were all arrayed in front of him.

“Can I help you… ma’am?” said the guard.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, looking for Jeff McHenry. Is he in?”

“Mr. McHenry is in, yes. Are you… some relation?”

Cheri folded her arms over her stomach, the bag dropping to dangle from her elbow. “Something like that. I really need to see him. He said it was important.”

“I thought Jeff was smarter than to bring one of his whores into the office. Get younger every year…” The conversation flitted past and was gone. Cheri turned and glared at a retreating form, unsure who had spoken. They did not understand, but they soon would. She was no whore, but she had her part to play. She planned to save herself.

For him.

Silberman promised. And Silberman always told the truth.

“I’m sorry, miss, but I think I should call ahead before letting you up.” The guard picked up the phone on his desk.

The gun found its way into Cheri’s hand before she could think about it. So big and silver, just like the last one. It felt so right now, like she was always meant to wield such power. She wished, for a brief moment, that she had the one she killed Daddy with.

That one was special.

Plastic clattered against the tile floor as the guard dropped the phone and raised his hands. “Miss, there’s no need for that…”

“There’s great need.”

Thunder roared from the weapon and smote the guard, sending him tumbling backwards as gore fountained from his chest. He spilled backwards out of the rolling chair and onto the floor behind the security desk.

Screams split the air as men and women ducked to the floor or ran for the exits. One woman hammered at the call buttons for the elevators and yelled at them to hurry up. Some staggered and fell, falling beneath the feet of others as they fled. Cheri fired shots into the crowd to add seeds to the confusion. The crowd surged as men and women fell to the shots, sending their bloodied bodies to the tiled floor. Injured and dying alike were crawled and clawed over as others sought to escape without heed of their fellow man.

Cheri laughed and gloried in the chaos that roared into being around her. Reveled in it. These men and women of money and technology were not so different from those that had seen the truth in Pescadero. Just add the right impetus and their instincts tore reason from them. Evil is not the word that Cheri chose to append to her actions. Necessary, even if enjoyable. These people were dead already anyways in three years. They just did not know it.

She picked up the phone that the guard had left on the floor and used the tip of the gun to press down the receiver button. Phone between thumb and middle finger, she punched in the number she had been given to dial and then cradled the phone between shoulder and ear.

“Wouldn’t let me up. Bring them all in,” said Cheri.

It did not take long for the men she waited for to cross the street from the church where they had waited since before dark. They charged into the building like a pack of rabid wolves, shoving office workers still trying to escape back into the building and dragging those on floor by legs and arms towards where Cheri stood. Wild men and women, wearing clothes painted in symbols of their love for the new messiah. They carried truncheons sharpened into stabbing weapons or shotguns filled with buckshot.

Silberman followed them, dressed in black and with a Roman collar stolen from the church they had invaded. He clutched a bible in one hand and a pistol in the other, taken from a cop the night of the escape. Smiling, he walked amongst his flock and then stopped to stare down at the whimpering, mewling cross section of corporate America that had been captured.

“It is a shame that you help the enemy with the work you do. If only you could have seen the truth of the future to come. Know that we will pray for your souls.” Silberman glanced at his flock. “Kill them.”

Shotguns spoke with voices of wrath as buckshot shredded the cowering office workers. The warbling screams of the terrified and dying filled the lobby as Silberman’s flock followed his commands without hesitation or mercy. They giggled, screamed, and cried as they murdered, their responses as fractured as their minds. Only the cause they followed united them in their murderous frenzy.

Cheri found it beautiful to behold. None of them died like Daddy did. He had been so brave in trying to take the gun from her. But these were sheep, fit only for the death they were given. The lobby fell to an eerie silence as the last shotgun blast finished echoing through the room and the last corpse slumped to the ground.

“They’ll just lock the doors upstairs now.” said Cheri. “And this one here behind the desk doesn’t have any keys.”

“And the stairwells only open from the inside. Don’t worry, my dear. I’m sure…” Silberman paused as the elevator dinged.

The twin doors slid open to reveal a pair of uniformed security guards staring in awe at the sight of so much carnage and blood. One began to hammer his finger onto the ‘close door’ button inside the elevator as the other drew his pistol and aimed at the nearest member of the flock as the madmen howled for blood and rushed into the elevator.

A bullet exploded through the brainpan of one of the followers, leaving him dead on the floor as the rest piled into the elevator and tore the guards apart. The guards screamed as they died. Bits and pieces torn from them with the bare hands of the believers.

Silberman walked over to the elevator and gently patted backs and pulled on arms and legs to separate the flock from their prey. With complete subservience, they pulled away and let their prophet through to the ruined corpses of the two men they had just killed. The preacher knelt and tugged something free of the gore.. It glinted in the light as he held it up for Cheri to see.

“As I was about to say, my child, the good Lord provides to those that are faithful.” Blood soaked keys stamped with the IBM logo dangled from Silberman’s hand as the flock howled in joyous exultation.

Cheri smiled broadly. “Praise Him.”

She followed the flock into the heart of the office building, and there Silberman and his followers laid out a banquet for Death to feast upon.

Catherine Weaver stood in the observation room for Cyber Research Systems, Inc’s chip assembly facility. She watched as men in clean suits poured silica into platters and then pushed those platters into ovens to be backed into circuit boards and microchips. Four weeks ago, she had been unsure whether she would be able to pay these men and women.

The advance from the government for the project had erased every debt that CRS had in the books. Catherine had even been able to pick up her dry cleaning and upgrade from eating Ramen every night. She wore a brand new Valentino suit with skirt, a deep green that matched her eyes, and pumps that also matched.

She knew she should be unfailingly happy due to this. A wonderful mood had been soured by the anger that she held simmering inside. And the source of her ire stood as still as a statue in the corner of the observation room. Catherine crossed her arms over her chest as she turned to regard Wilson Carter, whom she had been studiously ignoring for nearly fifteen minutes since summoning him.

“Unacceptable,” said Catherine.

“The safety of the site is paramount, ma’am.”

“I understand that, Mr. Carter. What you don’t understand is that you can’t just pull a gun and start firing it around my parking lot.”

“My contract expressly…”

“Fook yah contract, Carter!” Her accent came on thick as her anger rose and she walked towards him and jabbed him hard in the chest with one manicured finger. “That contract is paid fah bah me and can be cancelled at any time. Ah’d rather pay a kill fee theen pay out a lawsuit due to yah trigger happy shenanigans!”

“No employees were injured, ma’am.” Carter spoke in an unaffected tone.

“Not froom yah lack of trying. Ah’m replacing one o’ my manager’s cars because of you. And Ah still have not gotten a clear answer on who this woman was. Her resume was a complete fraud after we did some checking, but there’s no proof she was a terrorist.”

“Her falsified application should prove that, ma’am.”

Catherine took a deep breath, paused a moment to compose herself and slow down, and then continued. “Or she might just have needed a job. I’ve seen worse than lying on a resume. How did you know to go after her?”

“That’s classified.”

Catherine scowled. “You’re not part of the government anymore, Carter. I don’t like this cloak and dagger crap, and I don’t like it being run in my company.”

“Ma’am, my company works closely with the federal government in matters of national security. Your company is part of that now. Information I receive from the government in regards to assisting you cannot always shared with you.”

Catherine regarded him with a suspicious expression, mentally running through what it would cost to replace Carter and who would be up to the job. The kill fee on the contract was huge, the price for getting a discount rate as a government contractor, and CRS was just getting back in the right direction financially. Maybe in a few months she could cut him loose. The fact that he never seemed to move aside from following her motions with turns of his head as he spoke always unnerved her.

“You stay then, for now. One more thing though…”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“That little inquisitorial list you gave to Kim Harbough? I’ve told her to toss it. You try that shit with my employees again, and I will kill your contract without a second thought. These people are loyal. They stayed when my company nearly went bankrupt. I don’t doubt one of them. Do you understand this?”

“That’s not wise, I vetted their backgrounds and…”

Catherine cut him off with a wave of her hand. “This isn’t a negotiation. This is how it is. If you don’t like it, you can cancel the contract. I believe I’m out scott free if you do.”

His lips pursed and he stared at her with the look she had seen him send her employees scuttling to do whatever he wanted. Carter’s eyes were cold, empty, and seemed to mask some sort of inner creature. “I think you should reconsider.”

“No, Mr. Carter, I won’t. Now get the hell out and do your job right.”

Carter tilted his head in consideration of her and then nodded a single time before turning on his heel and marching out of the room.

Catherine took a deep breath and shivered. She let her arms drop to her sides and looked down at her trembling fingers. The creepiness had nearly gotten to her, but she could not let some man with power envy disrupting her company and her operations.

There were great things left to accomplish.

The machine walked through the hallways of Campo de Cahuenga high school after the final bell. Students backed away as it approached them and showed a sketch it had created from its databanks.

“She is my niece. Have you seen her?” it lied to each in turn.

For over twenty minutes, it found nothing to assist it in completing the mission, until a young Latino male answered the question in the affirmative.

“Yeah… been over a month. I was gonna take Cameron to prom, man. Ya dig? I didn’t do nothing though. Didn’t touch her. Total gentleman and all that.”

“Before you last saw her, was there erratic behavior?”

“She and her brother were sick a lot. Missed a lot of school… then poof, gone. Where’re you from? That’s one heck of an accent.”

It regarded him a stare that caused the young male to back away towards his locker before answering after an uncomfortable pause. “Austria.”

“Yeah. Baum. Makes sense, that’s German, right?”

“Affirmative. Where did she reside?”

“Somewhere on Maple Street.” The young male’s nervousness became more apparent with sweating appearing on his forehead and palms. “Heard they cleared out though. Listen, I gotta go.”

“Thank you for your assistance. What is your name?”

“Bob,” the young male lied and scurried off.

The machine considered the importance of knowing the male’s proper name and then decided it was trivial and turned to walk out of the building and locate Maple Street.

Sarah and Derek were sitting on the couch when John and Cameron got home from school. Conversation ceased as he and the Terminator walked into the room. His mother looked rumpled in her suit and her hair had broken free from the careful hairstyle she had earlier in the morning and stood out in several directions.

“So, I take it you didn’t get the job?” His chuckle died in his throat as he saw the seriousness of Sarah’s expression. “What happened?”

“There was metal there. It made Sarah,” Derek said.

Sarah nodded. “One I’ve seen before. Carter, the one stealing all the coltan.”

“I locked him in a bunker.” Cameron stood to one side, watching the humans blankly as she spoke.

“Yeah. I was hoping he’d stay there. Could it just be another with the same appearance? Like…” John paused before saying the name and a hand involuntarily came up to trace a long healed cut that seemed to burn once more down the side of his face. “… like Jessica was?”

Cameron tilted her head and her expression narrowed as if giving John a disapproving look, then it was gone, and her face blank again. “Unlikely. Skynet prefers not to use two of the same series – the same skin – in one area. The 101 series was overused at first and it becomes too obvious if twins show up nearby.”

John stared at Cameron for a long moment. He knew he had not imagined the expression on Cameron’s face. Sarah and Derek did not seem to notice it, but he filed it away as something to ask her about later.

“There was a phone that you called us on in that bunker, John. He probably called for help,” said Sarah.

“Then who did he call?” Derek looked between the others, searching for the answer.

A long moment’s silence broke when Cameron spoke. “Jessica. There were stockpiles of materials in the CyberDyne facility for assembly of terminator units. It is most likely she was involved.”

“And he was gathering stuff for her,” said John. “I bet he was just guarding it ‘till she picked it up.”

“Check those discs you made of her memory, John. Double check all of it and see if you can find out what her plan was for him. I was hoping we’d heard the last of that metal bitch.” Sarah leaned back into the couch after giving the orders, exhaustion showing on her face.

“Me, too,” mumbled Derek.

“I’ll take care of it. You get some rest, mom.” John hefted his book bag and made for his room.

John spent hours pouring over the videos that he had made from Jessica’s memory. They numbered in the thousands of hours and he had filled hundreds of DVDs with them. Cameron had shown him how to sort them by a date stamp when he made them, and it helped, but there was still a lot to go through.

This would not be the first time John had spent hours watching Jessica’s life. Vick was singularly uninteresting as he sat around the Chamberlain’s home most of the time. Jessica fascinated him and discomfited him at the same time. An eerie feeling always crept over him as he watched the life of the machine that had nearly killed him.

Some moments of her life seemed so normal. Shopping, chatting about drapes in an apartment with the late Danny Dyson, and even going out to watch movies were all part of her routine. She could seem so much like a normal girl when she wanted to.

Then there were other moments he found. Images of her tracking him through the Campo de Cahuenga High School, watching Danny die at her hands through her eyes, and watching her plan the deaths of billions with the T-888 named Metzger that had been helping her.

As he backtracked through her memories he found one that shared the same symbol on the screen as when she spoke to Metzger, but it was just her sitting in her office going over paperwork. John leaned forward towards the LCD of his laptop, and tilted his head in curiosity.

On the screen, the phone rang and Jessica picked it up. She gave no greeting, just a simple, “Yes?”

“Current primary mission failed.” The speakers relayed what was heard from the phone, and John recognized Carter’s voice.

“What?” Surprise surged in Jessica’s voice.

“Two unknown humans and a TOK-715 unit entered the bunker and removed the coltan and then shut the doors after taking my key. I am currently trapped and require assistance to commence with further missions.” Carter gave the report in a bland, unconcerned tone of voice.

“You incomp—,” Jessica’s voice rose in anger and John could see one of her hands balling into a fist before her voice dropped to a choked whisper. “Wait, what? Did you say a TOK-715 unit?”

“Affirmative.”

“She’s here then. That means Connor’s here. Who were the humans?”

“Female. Mid-30s, shoulder length brown hair, blue eyes. Male. Mid-teens, unkempt brown hair, green eyes. Ninety-one percent chance of familial ties based on facial topography.”

“Sarah and John.” A note of triumph sounded in Jessica’s voice. “Promote secondary objective to primary, with standard termination order for John Connor remaining as active secondary.”

“Affirmative. Any further instructions?”

“Stay put. I’ll have Gerry come get you. We need to get our backup plan in place.” Jessica hung up the phone and started humming to herself, a pleased note to her voice.

“You’re watching her again.” Cameron’s voice was soft from the doorway of the room.

John jumped and his chair squealed as it scraped along the floor. He steadied himself and looked over at Cameron, who had a stack of papers in her hand. Warmth flooded John’s cheeks as he snapped the laptop shut and the sound cut out. “Yeah. You knew that though.”

“Yes. I did.” Cameron walked over to the desk and laid the papers out in front of him. “I did your homework in your handwriting. I knew you wouldn’t have time.”

“Thanks. ‘ppreciate it.”

The Terminator stared at him for a long moment, hovering at the edge of the desk. She seemed to expect him to say something more, and when he did not, she finally turned and started back for the door.

“Wait, Cam.”

“Yes?” She turned to him.

“When I said her name earlier, when talking to mom… you… you looked upset.” He tried to come up with another way to phrase it, but there it was.

“Why do you watch her memories so much?”

John brushed at his hair with one hand. Even short as it was, the habit remained. “Geez. I dunno.”

Cameron’s expression narrowed and she started to turn back to the door.

“No! Don’t… I mean. She fascinates me. She became so much like a person, ya know, and I wonder… what happens if you learn to be like that.”

“I don’t want to.” Cameron’s voice became a whisper as she turned back to him.

“No, not exactly like that… I mean… like a person. Like a human but not psycho. Are you a person then? Just with different insides? Just a girl, only a little different?”

“I don’t know. Emotions are not very useful to my primary mission.”

“Being happy or sad doesn’t really help much, huh?”

“Anger, too. I do not want to endanger you, John. For any reason.”

John’s features screwed up in thought as he considered Cameron’s statement. He wanted to know how best to reassure her that he trusted her and did not think she would harm him and opened his mouth to say so when his mother’s voice interrupted him.

“John! Derek! Look at this!” Sarah cried from the living room.

John hopped up and quickly jogged into the living room, Cameron following right behind him. Sarah had taken time to shower and change into jeans and a tank top and her hair remained damp and limp down to her shoulders. Derek came sauntering into the living room.

Sarah’s knuckles were white as she gripped the remote for the TiVo John had insisted the family get to record the news every night. Her jaw was set square in anger as she rewound part of a news program. “I think you both need to see this.”

They all turned to watch as the news replayed information on an attack on the IBM West Coast headquarters in downtown Los Angeles. The death toll given was gruesome; hundreds dead and a twenty story office tower gutted by fire and gun battles with the police. A dozen LAPD officers had been slain in the course of storming the building, and the majority of the attackers escaped as night fell. Of the few that had been killed or captured, they were one and all escapees from Pescadero.

“And we have exclusive footage from inside the building. We advise the audience that is extremely graphic and young children should not view this video,” announced the KTLA anchor gravely.

Sarah’s teeth ground as the video played and her fingers tightening around the remote until the creaking sound of plastic gave threats that it was about to crack.

“Jesus fuck,” muttered Derek as he gave the television a steely gaze.

Cameron tilted her head, remaining silent with a blank expression.

John felt bile in the back of his throat as he watched the video. The horror of it tore at him and the image of Death mocking him crawled out of his subconscious once more.

A pile of the dismembered and the disemboweled lay in some conference room or lobby, the destruction made it hard to tell, and a wall that had once been white had been decorated in the blood of the dead.

Scrawled across the wall were the words; John Connor shall deliver us from the evil man does. For His is the Kingdom of Heaven.