Terminator: Survival Instinct

Inside the Operations Chamber of Resistance Headquarters, John Connor stood astonished as Colonel Danny Dyson and the other replica of Allison Young came storming through the doors. Cameron had told them they weren’t permitted to be there, but John waved her off. That was before he realized that Danny was armed.

“I don’t usually see people waving a gun,” teased Connor, “but I’ll make an exception for you, Danny. What’s up?”

Colonel Dyson stood there holding the gun on General Connor, “You can tell me where General Connor is.”

John crossed his arms, “What the hell are you talking about, Danny? I’m standing right here.”


“Don’t play me for a fool,” Danny replied. “I saw the tape of this machine’s memories, John,” he spat the name. “I watched you attack Cameron and replace her chip with the one from Allison. Normally I wouldn’t care, but it’s the way you did it. Where’s General Connor?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” John walked toward him holding his hands in the air, “I’ve been right here for days working on finding this new Skynet Base. Ask Cameron,” he pointed at the machine standing on the upper level, “who’s standing right there; or ask Uncle Bob. I sent him to get my meal.”

The son of Miles Dyson fired a single shot that zoomed passed Connor’s head and shattered one of the monitors behind him. He tightened his grip as the sparks flew, “I’m not going to ask nicely next time and I’ll put a slug right into you. I swear. Where’s John Connor!”

John shook his head and lifted his hands, “I’m right here, Danny, honestly. What do I have to do to prove it to you? What do I have to say? What do I have to do?”

“Die?” The Colonel stared down at him with the gun still pointed at his head. Truth be told he wasn’t sure what good shooting at Connor would do anyway. If the video was true, it what he saw was reality, then there was really no way to stop what he was staring at. In reality the fact that Connor hadn’t swatted him like a fly was somewhat proof of the claims that he wasn’t what Danny thought he saw.

“When did we meet?” Danny finally asked. “And where?”

On the lower level John took a deep breath and looked at the barrel of the AP50 that his friend was holding trained on his head. The AP50 would fire a modified .50 caliber shell that was designed to be used against the Series 800. It’d kill a human and keep going. He looked up at his friend. “Answer one question for me first: do you mean when we first met or when we really first met?”


The Colonel loosened his grip slightly but still kept his finger near the trigger. It seemed that John may be the real John, but maybe Skynet had somehow gotten a synchcording? That was a stretch but it wasn’t impossible. “When we really first met.”

The Leader of the Human Resistance looked at the two machines sharing the face of Allison Young then Danny Dyson. “I met you for the first time in 1997 at your father’s house in Los Angeles. My mother had gone there to kill your dad because he was the man that would eventually build Skynet. I asked you to show me your room so that my guardian could talk to your father. You went in your room and cried and asked me why my mother would shoot your dad. I told you that sometimes things happened that just couldn’t be explained, but that your dad would be okay. Then you showed me a dinosaur stuffed animal that you called ‘seven’.”

Danny dropped the gun to his side, “You couldn’t fake that. There’s no way Skynet could know about that.”

“Are you going to tell me now why you were pointing a gun at my head?” Connor asked as he watched the two machines circling the room and eyeing each other, “and why those two look like they might be getting ready to kill each other?”

The Colonel walked down the ramp and joined General Connor in the center of the room, “That’s a long story. To make it short I found my lab destroyed and Allison powered down. Then Seven came and tried to kill me – nearly crushed my windpipe in his massive grip. I used a little backdoor I installed inside his head to make my escape, then I found the chip on the floor. I thought it was Allison’s; it was really Cameron’s. I repaired some of the damage by jury-rigging it and activated the chip. She told me the truth but that he memory files were corrupted. I was able to restore the video and I watched her be attacked from the front. The attacker had your face.”

“You don’t mean what I think you mean?” Asked the General.

“I do,” he said nodding, “We have an intruder and the only way to explain it is that our intruder’s a Series 1000.”

John shook his head, “It’s impossible. Skynet couldn’t possibly have any of them online yet. The only one we’ve encountered was the prototype and it went back in time already at Topanga Canyon. I sent back Uncle Bob,” he watched the machine enter, “well at least the real Uncle Bob.”

“It’s the only way to explain it, General,” Dyson was sure of it. “Think about it. Who else could reprogram my personal servant droid? What else could attack Cameron or Allison and successfully rip out the processor fast enough to prevent it from being damaged. Anything else would’ve taken damage. The wounds to Lieutenant Cray,” he shook his head, “it all fits, General.”

The masculine programmed machine broke their conversation as it circled the room, “What is happening here, General?”

“Long story,” Connor answered. “We need to seal off this base,” he looked at Cameron and Allison, “including those two until we can find out who everyone is. We’re better safe than terminated.”

“For how long?” Inquired the one who had come in with Colonel Dyson.

Then the other, “Should one of us be a threat what will be the result?”

“One step at a time,” John said. “Since you’re the only one we can trust, Bob, I want you to oversee this all. Escort them there…”

Everything changed in an instant. John realized that each and every time that something had happened, any of the disasters, the machine that he called Uncle Bob was missing in action or on some assignment. He looked at it for a long moment just wondering, but he realized then that the machine knew he’d discovered the truth. This wasn’t the machine he thought that it was. In the blink of an eye its left arm rose to the sky and the powerful arm became instead a strand of silvery metal that looked like putty. It reached out like a tentacle and wrapped around General John Connor’s neck. It lifted him from the ground.

The skin changed from a tall, strong looking man to a shorter woman wearing a gown of solid white. Her hair was long and the color of fire. It flowed down her back and draped her shoulders, gently blowing in the air. Her eyes were as green as the grass had once been before the bombs fell. It was exactly as Colonel Danny Dyson had suspected. Skynet had produced more than just the prototype for the Series 1000 and the first generation stood before him ready to kill.

She wasn’t the only one. On the upper level tier the machine known as Allison Young had struck. With incredible force and speed she’d knocked the machine that shared her face, Cameron Phillips, to the ground like a doll that weighed nothing. It held her pinned to the ground having gotten the jump on her sister gynoid and wasn’t giving any ground. Danny Dyson didn’t know what to do.

The voice of the reconfigurable assassin was soft and lyrical with the traces of what Danny believed to be a Scottish brogue. It was almost as if the machine had once been a singer of song and dance. Looking at the body as it formed before him she definitely had the legs for it. It issued its orders.

“Surrender or I will kill General Connor.”

 

Three updates today. I apologize for not uploading them sooner but I was having connectivity issues - actually everyone in my area was.

There is one chapter left then an epilogue.

 

enjoyed the updates....keep em coming

 

^ I'm planning to finish up the story over the next few days and I'll post it either on Friday or Saturday. The epilogue will be posted on Sunday (it's also the very first thing I wrote for this story).

 

Captain Catherine Luna emptied the contents of an entire dresser drawer onto the ground and threw the container across the room. She was looking for something – anything – that she could use as a weapon against Fischer or would help the Resistance in the war against the machines. Truthfully she didn’t know what good any of it would do. If she found a weapon the chances of escape from the base were so slim she had a better chance of eating a good meal including a hunk of chocolate cake with chocolate icing. Since she hadn’t had a good meal since she was assigned to a convoy in the early years of the war and she hadn’t seen cake since the day before Judgment Day the chances of that were highly unlikely.

Her needs weren’t very much. All she had to find was something, anything, which she could use as a weapon. Her target was Fischer and not the machines so that gave her a few options including the broken dresser drawer she just shattered against the wall. Quite frankly she was hoping for something a bit stronger that she could use against a machine if she had to, but it’d have to do. The sad thing was that it didn’t require much for her to fight a machine. As a member of Delta Company she could pretty much build a weapon from nothing. Too bad that wasn’t what was going to happen here today. There weren’t many weapons that could be made with a piece of wood.

While she kept up her search she reminisced about her experiences as a member of Delta Company; or, as so many called it, the death wishers. That wasn’t a lie either. Members of Delta Company had a very low life expectancy and it was a well deserved fact. The team members were fearless to the point that they became reckless more often than they should. It was their job to bypass the enemy sensors and defenses so that they could get any information that would help the Resistance in their fight. When they got their data then came the fun part. They’d plant explosives – some built for that express purpose or improvised – and then they’d get the hell out of dodge before the bombs went off or the machines could find them. That was the long job description. The short one was that: they blew stuff up. Period. They weren’t like the Black Shields and they didn’t do surgical strikes; they broke through the barriers and acted like a hammer.

Though they didn’t usually leave this kind of mess in their wake. Fischer’s room was trashed from her search, but he probably had anything important concealed. So far he hadn’t. Turning over another drawer looking for anything of value she couldn’t help but let her mind escape the moment and think of Justin Perry. Like every other day she wondered if she’d ever lay eyes on him again; probably not. Their jobs didn’t give a lot of leeway in the staying alive department and he probably thought that she was dead. After all he hadn’t heard from her and her convoy was attacked.

While she searched through the near perfect clothes of her captors the Captain wished she’d have taken the General’s offer. Before she signed on to Major Young’s team he asked her, nearly pleaded with her, to transfer to his 132nd Eagle Watch. He wanted her to lead her own team that’d work alongside Derek Reese’s Four Horsemen. Catherine remembered being a little offended that he’d even suggest something like that. Catherine loved Delta Company and she was good at her job; Perry said that she deserved to be in the group that was the best of the best.

In many respects the 132nd were just that. They were the expert soldiers that could find their way out of almost anything that the machines threw at them. Eagle Watch members fought autonomously and they were tactical geniuses. An Eagle Watch Soldier kept their plans in their heads and left nothing behind that the machines could get their hands on and analyze. Everything was committed to memory, which had been somewhat damning for the Resistance. It led the machines, partially, into developing the synchording technology - that and the machinations of Charles Fischer so he’d have a new way of making the machines act more human.

She pulled out a final drawer and found it, to her surprise, covered with a lock. Since she didn’t have a key the old Delta Company training kicked back in and she smashed it. As she scanned through the remains of the drawer she’d just shattered she felt something along the side. Taped to the underside of the desk was a copy of notes that he’d been working on. They were regarding something called SRF and detailed their security systems and operations. This didn’t make any sense to her. There were no companies left, no businesses, what did it all matter and mean? Was Skynet going to bring back Wall Street and let the humans trade stocks again? The way the economy was going Skynet wouldn’t need to kill anyone because they’d kill themselves. What a change of tactics.

There was more there. Flipping through the files that were hidden she uncovered more and more information seemingly from the past. SRF was a government subcontractor that’d been working with the Defense Department on a secret project. They had unlimited access to the United States Defense Mainframe. Flipping through the files then she came across something even more interesting. Charles Fischer had been an employee there until he was arrested on terrorist charges – for hacking into the mainframe and uploading a virus that couldn’t be erased. Could it be? No it couldn’t. Was Skynet planning another mission through time?

More files were resting there waiting for her to review. There were notes from a company called Cyberdyne Systems Biological Research Department signed by a Serena Kogen. A few of the notes were regarding the attempts to arrange for a human death row inmate to be transferred to Cyberdyne’s care after his death for scientific research. A few more notes and she got into the specifics. The Doctor was dying of Cancer that had spread through her entire body. She wanted to build a mechanical body and transplant her own brain into it. Flipping through the pages quickly she learned that Kogen died before they could complete the research and it was abandoned. Skynet picked it back up though and concluded her study. This was how it came up with the zombies, this was how it came up with the synchording, this was how it…

She looked at the page holding the information on the test subjects in the book, “Oh my god.”


Charles Fischer stood next to the tall infiltrator staring at the temporal transportation technology. It was impressive when you compared it to the prototype that’d been lost at Cheyenne Mountain. Skynet had streamlined the technology into a far more manageable platform. The previous one had an island that was the actual equipment to protect the controls; this one was different in that it was all one big unit. Immediately adjacent to the central platform were the power generators and the controls. Skynet was improving and, rumor had it, prototypes were underway for an infiltrator that would have the temporal transportation equipment built right into its chest to avoid the needs of the pad. It was farfetched and hokey, but who knew what the future would hold.

That wasn’t an easy question to answer nor was it easy anymore to try to figure out what the past held. With all the temporal missions, the incursions into the past by both Skynet and the Resistance, who knew what reality they were living in or even if this was the current one anymore. He himself knew of about 18 missions Skynet had conducted, but there were other platforms at other bases throughout the Earth. Then there was the Resistance. Reports indicated that when the Resistance one the Battle of Topanga Canyon they took the transporter with them when they left. Skynet hadn’t been able to find it yet either. Who knew how many timelines there could be. Hell, there may have even been one where John Connor was a woman or the machines found a way to send machines back through time without skin and they were laying waste to the Earth. Infinite possibilities were at their fingertips because of this machine and there was no way of knowing how any of these actions would affect the future. But there was one future to which Charles Fischer was entirely knowledgeable; one future where he knew what destiny would bring. That was his own future; the future that he would be making in only a couple of seconds if Skynet had its way.

Charles Fischer was going to his death. When he was right out of college he worked for a company called SRF as an engineer. He didn’t have a bad life, nor did he have a good one, he was just alive and working a job that he really hated. He sacrificed a lot for the company and for the United States government. One night when he was going home he was kidnapped by a woman, drug to a shipping container out in the middle of nowhere, and met a man who shared his face. Unlike pop culture the world didn’t melt and time didn’t stop when he met himself; rather, it was just like meeting a person on a train. They were both tortured by this man and woman – who Charles now knew to be Derek Reese and a woman who he still had yet to meet. After getting out of there he found out that someone had broken into the lab and uploaded a virus onto the company computers. That person was Charles Fischer.

The old man who he saw everyday in the mirror.

The Skynet inhabited skinjob tilted its head down toward him, “You have been assigned a mission, Charles Fischer, and failure is not an option for you. As a reward for your services to my operations I am going to return you to the year 2008 and allow you to live out the remaining days of your life prior to Judgment Day in peace. Please extend your arm.”

Charles did as he was told and extended his arm toward the machine. A Series 700 grabbed it and, with surprising delicacy, held it for a moment. With its other hand it brought a small tool into contact with the skin and pressed a button. For a moment he felt like his entire body was on fire as pain pierced through every synapse of his body. Then it stopped and the pain was gone. He missed the endoskeleton using the medical regenerator on the injury and gently rubbed the point that had felt like burning a second ago. He could feel something buried amid the meat beneath his skin.

“Going away present?” the Human sniped as he rubbed his arm.

The machine wasn’t phased, “Negative. You are to remove the USB Port from your arm upon arrival and use it at SRF. You will upload this into their primary computer server. The operation is time encoded and, approximately 47 hours after your arrival, if it is not inserted into the target it will detonate. If it is not removed from your body it will detonate. If it is not implanted into the appropriate computer within fifteen seconds it will detonate. Once uploaded, the program will create full documentation for your cover identity of Paul Stewart, a clockmaker and repairman. Do you understand your instructions?”


Charles rolled his eyes, “Of course. Not like you’d ask if this was okay with me first now is it?”

“If you did not agree I would simply have terminated you and assigned the chip to another member of the grays. I could also still make you into an Infiltrator Series 950 infiltration unit if necessary to meet mission priorities. Your not being altered will, nonetheless, improve the statistical likelihood of success by nearly 42% over sending you back altered.”

“So how do we work this contraption of yours?” He asked.

The machine spoke like a teacher talking to a student, “You will remove your clothing and proceed to the center of the raised dais. You will then turn to face the outside environment where you will then crouch with one foot against the ground and your alternate knee touching the ground. Both hands should be flat as well. You must remain motionless as the transport begins. Should you move there is the possibility that the temporal sphere will amputate any portion of your body that is not inside the protective transport covering. Additionally, the electrical discharges could also result in severe trauma that would kill a human in an instant. When the transport completes you will find yourself back in time.”

Fischer looked at the machine that would soon send him back nearly twenty years, “Do I have to be naked?”

“Affirmative,” the cybernetic organism answered in even tones. “To transport through time while wearing any article of clothing you risk arriving with that article having burned away your skin during the transportation. You could arrive with the epidermal layer of all covered areas not present leaving your musculature and organs exposed. Death would occur within seconds and would be exceptionally painful from a human standpoint. All Skynet infiltration units would be unaffected by this type of transport, however, as they do not require skin.”

“I will demonstrate the correct process.”


That hadn’t happened before, “Are you coming with me?”

“Negative,” the Artificial Intelligence replied. “This battle unit is being sent on another mission to locate and terminate Martin Bedell; this was previously mentioned to you.”

“Oh that’s right,” Charles brushed a hand against the side of his face. “Do I have to go now? Couldn’t I go from another location?”

The skinjob approached the dais and began ripping away the tattered clothes of the Resistance. Completely naked it turned toward Fischer. The answer didn’t come from it as it knelt down. The voice was disembodied and came from all around him, “Negative. There is no time to risk. The Resistance team led by General Justin Perry has infiltrated your laboratory. They will soon know the truth about your mission and will attempt to stop you.”

“What about the guards?” He paused. “What about Luna?”

“Three Series I-950s will engage them in twenty-two seconds. The subject known as Earl Wise is on approach to this chamber. Your time has expired, Charles Fischer.” The blinding electrical blue light of the temporal sphere enveloping the Triple Eight that just went back in time cast an eerie ambiance on Skynet’s words. “Transport equipment recharging. Transport will again be possible in one minute. Please go to the transport pad.”

Charles did as Skynet instructed and started undoing the designer shirt that he had been given as part of his reward for service. Undoing his belt and pants he heard as the door exploded inward behind him and the whirring gears of the T-700 took it to intercept. A trio of electronic pulses rang out in the air and he turned in time to see the machine collapse to the ground. Fischer smiled and looked at the Resistance Captain.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.” Fischer smiled at the man who stood before him, “You’re looking good, Earl, nice and fit.” Charles ran and hand along his hair and highlighted his receding hairline, “As for me… well nature takes it’s course. Much like it will for you too.” He said it with a Machiavellian smile as his prized subject came to him.

 

The sight of Charles Fischer’s lab made General Justin Perry sick to his stomach. It was like a cathedral built with the express purpose of worshiping Skynet and it was easily the size of a football field. The Resistance soldier had never realized that they still made places like this and every glimpse of it filled him with hatred that was about to boil over into a full blown rage. If reminded him in many respects of Doctor Frankenstein’s laboratory in Mary Shelley’s classic work. There were dozens of tables running along the perimeter of the long and narrow room. In the center were hundreds of consoles and monitors displaying a multitude of different types of data. Some of the terminals showed body parts, others maps, a few complex diagrams. There were some that he could see people being monitored on and then there were others that had just line upon line of text that was being scrolled through.

It was all making him sick to his stomach. He, Doctor Lauren Fields, and Sergeant Andre Sumner were walking through the room with their weapons drawn and were surveying the entire area. If anything moved they’d know about it. Each of them was alert and was just waiting for Skynet to spring some sort of trap on them. The General was the first to reach the desk right outside the area dominated by the worktables. It looked just like any other desk he’d seen in his life. There was a computer in the corner and the desk itself had dozens of file folders resting on it. He started to flip through them as the rest of his team kept up their checks.

“Clear,” Sumner interrupted from along the far wall. “Ain’t no one here.”

The Doctor they’d liberated held her gun at her side – which was down to a handful of shots at best. “It’s not people we have to worry about though. I don’t know why Skynet’d release everyone from here. There should be machines running around here or at least powered down in this room. This looks to be the programming area for the Infiltrators.”

“It probably is,” said the General as he looked through the paper document, “If this is any indication. Looks like they’re working on something new, something deadlier than what we’ve seen before.”

“Why do they need anything else? They’ve been doing well enough so far,” Lauren said astonished by the news.

Justin looked at the monitor and tried to make heads or tails out of if, “But we’re surviving. We’ve learned how to figure out what’s a machine and who’s a person. Even those zombies are picked out of crowds now because of the implants that connect them to Skynet.”

“It’s always about the self improvement,” repeated Lauren remembering Sarah Connor had once said it.

“Precisely,” said the superior officer.

“That don’t exactly help us,” Andre interjected into the conversation. “We need ta find this Cap’n Luna and we need ta get outta here.”

The General pulled the keyboard closer and started to type, “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do, Sergeant. Skynet’s monitoring the entire area; if I can splice into the security functions then this’ll be a lot easier.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” their medic said walking toward him, “but alacrity would definitely be appreciated.”

At the desk that was exactly what General Perry was working toward. He didn’t want to be here a second longer than he had to be as he was interfacing with the Skynet Systems. The AI wasn’t stupid, it was far from stupid, and it knew exactly what he was trying to do. Every time that he got passed one of the firewalls he’d get three or four more thrown up in its place that he’d have to break through. Justin wasn’t a dummy when it came to computers, but he wasn’t nearly half as good as General Connor or Colonel Dyson. This was going to take some time and time wasn’t something they had in abundance.

While he tried to penetrate the command protocols he heard the doors before him slide open with a heavy sigh as the gears pushed them apart. Grabbing a hold of his weapon, and probably losing all the headway he’d made with the computers, he moved into a defensive stance with his gun pointed at the opening. Behind him he heard his two companions cocking their rifles and deactivating the safeties. The General’s index finger massaged the trigger of his gun. He was almost out of rounds and Skynet had nearly infinite ones.

Through the doors came three humans who were clutching Phased Plasma Rifles very much like their own. They wore United States military issue urban warfare uniforms and they had red bands around their right arms to signify that they were members of the Resistance. They seemed to be led by an African man who looked like he was of average build and height. Behind him was a woman with hair the color of ginger and a man that was balding from the looks of it and was a little overweight – which was very rare for the war against the machines. The three soldiers kept their guns trained on the newcomers.

“Who the hell are you?”

The leader of the new arrivals kept his gun trained on General Perry, “You first.”

“I think that you’re missing something, Trooper, we have the better vantage point,” it was Perry’s show to run any way he saw fit. “Now tell me your damn name before I put a round between your eyes.”

“Michael Clark,” he kept his rifle at the ready, “of Eagle Rock Bunker. We were on patrol and saw the shooting. We thought we could be some help.”

The General loosened his grip but didn’t take his hand away from the weapon. He had heard of a Lieutenant Michael Clark at Eagle Rock Bunker, but Skynet could’ve found that out. There was no way to keep everything secret when the machines had satellites in orbit and were adept at penetrating Resistance frequencies, “So, Mister Clark, why should I believe you?”

“Because there’s no fate but what we make for ourselves,” answered the leader of the pack, “and because no one’s ever safe now are they?”

“You have a point,” he lowered the weapon at the customary greeting. “Say you wouldn’t happen to have a Tech with you?”


The bigger man stepped forward, “I’m a Tech, Sir, Master Sergeant Walter Davis at your service. What seems to be the trouble?”

“We’re trying to hack into Skynet’s security system,” the General answered. “We need to find someone.”

“That could be hard to accomplish,” the newcomer approached the desk. “Skynet encrypts the security feeds. Unless you have a chip in your head chances are you aren’t going to get in.”

The ginger haired lady spoke up, “Who are you trying to find?”

“We got a missin mate,” Sergeant Sumner informed. “We tryin ta find her.”

“With respect,” the woman stepped forward, “Wouldn’t it be more logical to leave her behind? Skynet likely has endoskeletons patrolling the facility looking for us. Your attempts to hack into the system’ll probably have it send metal after all of us.”

The team medic added her two cents, “We don’t leave our people behind, don’t you know that over there at Eagle Rock?”
“We also know that sometimes it is tactically preferable to retreat and leave someone behind rather than allow someone of military importance to be captured,” the leader of the newcomers added. “Would you not agree?”

“Maybe I should have a chat with your Commanding Officer when I get out of here,” was all Perry would say. He looked at the Sergeant, “You crack the codes yet?”

The man typed with a surprising speed and accuracy, “I’m working on it as quickly as I can, General, but this is not the easiest egg to break. Skynet knows what I am attempting and will continually input new firewalls to kick me back to square one. As I told you a moment ago the only surefire means of getting into the system is to have a chip in your head.”

The older African American who had served in the United States Military prior to Judgment Day picked up one of the files on the table next to the Technician, “Keep working on it. Maybe I’ll be able to find some sort of floor plan to tell me where I want to go while you’re working.”

“That is a possibility,” answered the man as he worked. “It’ll probably be easier than trying to penetrate these firewalls.”

Justin flipped through the pages of one of the documents and came across a file that seemed promising because it, at least, would give him some technical knowledge of the newest Skynet models. The only information he could find though was on a Project I-950. Scanning through the information he learned that these were the zombies as the Resistance called them – humans either taken over by the machines or humans created by the machines to fit its needs.

Right as he flipped toward the models list the doors opened again. This time each and every one of them pulled out their Plasma Rifles and pointed them at the next set of newcomers. For Perry, Fields, and Sumner they were only a group of old friends. The first through the door was Jonathan Sayles who was followed close behind by Eduardo Timms. They lowered their rifles at seeing the men and women in the lab.

“Don’t shoot,” teased Timms, “We’re all friendlies here so lets just all be friendly.”

Lauren Fields gave a mocking laugh that was laced with contempt for Timms. Behind them came General Mason and, who Perry only could imagine, was her son Scott. Behind them was Derek Reese and a machine, a Cyberdyne Systems Model 101. Perry pointed his gun at the automaton and went to fire only to be stopped when he saw General Mason get between him and the cybernetic organism.

“No!” Kate yelled. “He’s on our side.”

Perry tightened his grip, “Sure about that?”


The T-850 tilted its head, “Affirmative. I am a reprogrammed T-850. You may call me Moe.”

“Moe?” The ginger haired Resistance soldier inquired. “May I ask why you are called that? T-850’s were not assigned names when released into the field by Skynet. No known naming protocols currently exist for machines operating within the Resistance either.”

It was young Scott who answered her question, “That was my idea. I named him after the character from The Three Stooges.”

“Such an action was illogical,” pointed out the woman. “He is a machine: he doesn’t require a name.”

“Sometimes it just helps us to get along with him,” interrupted General Mason. “We should get moving though. We’re running out of time. The machines are massing somewhere.”

Timms spoke, “Found Luna yet?”

“Not yet,” Sumner answered, “We been havin trouble with the computer.”

Walter spoke up, “We’re having trouble interfacing with it. Skynet keeps locking us out of the system.”

“Moe,” General Brewster directed her comments, “help with the computer. Find Captain Luna and report her position.”

“Command confirmed,” the guardian stomped off, unintentionally, due to his bulk.

Lieutenant Derek Reese passed through the crowd and went up to his Commanding Officer. He whispered, “General, don’t you think we should call off the search and get out of here? We haven’t found Luna yet so chances are we’re not going to or Skynet’s already done something to her.”


“She’s alive and I know it,” he heard Timms speaking lowly to the ginger haired soldier behind Reese. “We just have to find her and I’m not leaving here until we do.”

“What if she’s already been turned?” He proposed honestly.

Perry motioned over his shoulder, “Because she’s not on one of those biobeds back there being worked on to become Frankenstein’s monster. She’s still here, somewhere…”

“… The past is the past, Mister Timms,” interrupted the woman he had called Lois. “It is irrelevant to the matters of the present.”

Eduardo was visibly taken aback and stormed off near Sayles. Reese ran up to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder, “What’s going on?”

“I know her from before,” Timms explained. “I met her when we were at Oregon Base and I got transferred to Kansas right before a T-800 blew the place to hell. She and her husband taught me about tracking; he was killed by the 800 and she was one of the few survivors. I wanted to offer her my condolences for her loss.”

“You probably offer a lot of condolences if you do that for everyone that dies,” chided Fields. “You probably just wanted in her pants; she’s pretty hot.”

If looks could kill then the look that Timms gave Doctor Fields would have melted her like the wicked witch getting doused with water, “You don’t get it. She’s not acting right. She never used to say things were irrelevant or that the past wasn’t important. She was a damn history teacher before the fall for heaven’s sake. I’m telling you that’s not…”

“I have penetrated the security firewalls,” the bulky skinjob reported. “Access to the internal surveillance sensors is now available.”

Perry issued orders as he pushed by the machine and next to Walter, “Search back and find out what happened to Luna.”

“Affirmative,” he moved it at speeds faster than human eye could see but his computer controlled visual sensors had no trouble discerning. Visual after visual moved so quickly that for Perry it would’ve been like the subliminal messaging that was supposedly in programs that had been on television prior to Judgment Day. For Moe each frame was firmly in place including one it wasn’t meant to see.

The machine pulled its Beretta 92F from its belt, put the barrel to Walter’s temple, and pulled the trigger in less than three seconds. Blood, bone, and brain matter flew every which way and even sprayed onto the General. The machine turned and started firing at the two others in the group – Clark and the woman named Lois. They returned fire in plenty of time and the machine flew back. His endoskeleton was reinforced to protect against electrical overload, but they kept pelting him.

“Everyone stand the hell down!” Perry screamed wanting answers to why the General’s guardian had killed one of the troopers. The two newcomers didn’t stop and, instead, just kept up their bloodlust toward the machine. Phased plasma rounds pelted the machine’s chest. Perry just shook his head as General Mason and Doctor Fields checked the technician.

Kate pulled her fingers back from the neck, “He’s dead.”

“You sure you weren’t a detective?” Fields checked the man. “I haven’t seen a man who could survive being shot at point blank range in the damn temple before.”

“I can’t explain this,” the lower ranking General was astonished. “I can’t believe Moe would…”

Beneath them Walter’s eyes began to move and locked onto the General. With quick, fluidic motions he had turned over and slammed his hand around the General’s neck. Before he could snap it Perry had fired a round this time obliterating the head. These weren’t soldiers; they were the new kind of zombie. Perry kept firing trying to take down the other two and the battle was quickly joined.

 

From inside the chambers of Charles Fischer, Captain Catherine Luna could hear everything. She heard the familiar sounds of the plasma pistols laying waste to a machine, but she also heard them hitting against soft targets instead of the reinforced metal of the machines. She heard a gunshot and then she heard a scream. She had to know what was going on.

But the door was locked. Luna wasn’t with many options available. Fischer’s room wasn’t exactly laid out with weapons or anything of real value except for those notes that she’d found. Plus Skynet probably wasn’t going to let anything happen to him so why give him anything to defend himself with? From what she could see he normally had an infiltrator assigned as his guard.

Staring at the lock she found the keycard reader that hung against the wall right next to the doorframe. It wasn’t the most unique lock that she’d ever seen, but it was a pretty good one. Not many people knew though that they had an Achilles heel. If you could break the contact with something metal you could, about one out of two times, get the lock to release. The problem was finding something small enough to break the contact and force the door to part.

Then she remembered it. In the one drawer she’d seen a very old ruler that looked conspicuously out of place in the technological age that hadn’t died in a Skynet base. Scrambling along the floor after a few tries she found it laying underneath one of the Armani jackets that Fischer had kept in the closet. Luna, calling upon her training, broke it and removed the small metal bar that had been firmly attached to it. The question was would it be enough?

Running to the door and the card reader she started fiddling with the slot. She delicately probed the small reader with the piece of metal until she found what had to be the reader of the code in the keycard. That was what she needed to find. Gently poking at it she then forced the reader by slamming down the metal bar and then sliding it up and down. On the touch panel for the code the red locked button turned to a green unlocked. She forced herself through the door.

Stumbling to regain her bearings she found herself with half a dozen plasma rifles pointed straight for her head. Her arms shot up and she showed her open palms to the group that had assembled there. She was happy as a clam than none of them were metal, but she was surprised to see that there were at least four people on the ground. One was a machine, clear by the mechanical components exposed from several plasma shots, but the other three were human if the bodies could be trusted. Blood was spewing from where their necks should have connected to their heads. The snow white floor was now a ruby red.

“Looks like I missed the party,” she didn’t skip a beat after having seen a dead body many times before.

They kept their guns pointed at her. It was Justin Perry who spoke to her, “Yeah you did, now how do we know it’s you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked with her accent thickening.

“How can we be sure you’re not one of these machines,” it was Lauren Fields that made the charge. “These things were pretty convincing; how can we be sure you’re not one?”

“Because I’m not,” she said stating the obvious (or at least what was obvious to her). “I’m not a zombie or anything.”

Perry pointed at the bodies, “We didn’t think they were either. Okay let me try something that only Luna would know. Where did we first meet?”

“Haven enclave,” Luna said without a moment’s hesitation. “I cared for your parents. You tried to get me to join the Resistance then, but I didn’t because I thought we wouldn’t be attacked. And I was in love,” she remembered William.

“Too easy,” that was Katherine Mason, “try something harder.”

The General agreed, “When was the first time we had sex?”

“We haven’t,” Luna again answered very quickly but was embarrassed by the question.

Perry lowered the gun, “Well we’re going to have to fix that when we get home.” He ran up to embrace her only to have her go cold on him.

“Plenty of time for that later,” she answered him but she needed him focused. “Listen, we have bigger problems here. They’ve set the base on a self-destruct because of everything that’s happened here. We need to get out of here. There was something else too; I found these files in the room back there. They contain reports, a whole slew of information about a company called SRF and a Skynet plot against it. I think Skynet is sending an infiltrator back through time to carry out the mission. There was something else too: I found reports from Cyberdyne that led to the infiltrators. They’re using the work of a Doctor Kogen to make the zombies and to give the Trip Eights personalities. With this information we can go back and we can prevent Skynet from ever getting this data. We won’t have to worry about the zombies or anything like that. We have to work quickly though. Skynet’s already started the countdown and we may still have time to stop Fischer before he can carry out this mission.”

“We need to get out of here,” it was General Brewster-Mason that pointed it out. “We can worry about the zombies later. We have the time.”

“But I have unfinished business,” it was Derek Reese who spoke up this time. “Charles Fischer’s with them and he and I have a score to settle. I request to go after him, General.”

Justin Perry had other ideas, “Not this time. Luna we’re heading into the danger zone.”

“Just like old times,” she teased kindly. “Too bad we don’t have the mix tape anymore. I’m good to go.”

“And so am I,” Perry answered, “The rest of you get the hell out of here and no buts about it except for yours going up the stairs and getting the hell out of here. Kate, before you go I have one favor.”

The other leader of the Resistance looked at him with surprise, “Anything… you know that.”

“If I don’t make it back smash these metal bastards into junk.”

The General smiled, “I think these boys and I can handle that.”

“I have no doubt in my mind,” he ignored the motto of the Resistance and quoted the oath of the 132nd, “Hang in their baby and be safe.”

 

The cold steel grip of the T-1000 around his throat was something that John Connor would never forget. Designed to be the ultimate Skynet weapon, the Series 1000 was capable of mimicking any human being that it sampled through physical contact, but he never imagined that that included the physical templates of another Skynet unit. John had believed that he’d been dealing with Uncle Bob this entire time. Never could he have imagined that it was a Skynet allied machine.

The question though was how on Earth was he still alive? The Series 1000 couldn’t reproduce projectile weapons or complex machines – which made its replication of Bob all the more amazing – but it could make knives or stabbing weapons from any part of its body. The Resistance had been theorizing about its development ever since the assault on the Skynet VLA in 2018; nonetheless, it was thought to be impossible that Skynet’d ever produce such a weapon of war. John Connor knew differently. When he was only a boy he’d seen first hand the kind of destruction that just one of these machines could bring. He shuddered to think about what an army of them could do.

What surprised him though were that there weren’t more of them running around the battlefields tying to find and assassinate him. The T-1000 was the ultimate destroyer, with only one proposed infiltrator that could best it in combat but John seriously doubted the possibilities of the T-Extreme ever being produced as he had never seen one in his travels. There were a lot of theories why Skynet wasn’t mass producing the thousands to replace the eights on the battlefields. Some believed it to be because of the resources Skynet needed to produce even one of them. Then there were some theories that Skynet was afraid the T-1000 because it could, theoretically, become more powerful than even Skynet was. In many respects it was like the theory of the singularity. Humanity did build computers that were more intelligent than it was and now Skynet was facing a reality where it had produced something more intelligent. The calculations needed to keep one of them working were astronomical in length; no wonder it’d be afraid.

For the moment, at least to John Connor, theory wasn’t as important as practicality. As the grip tightened and the onlookers stared at the silver machine and its whip like appendage John didn’t care if the Series 1000 was smarter than Skynet. All he cared about was how the hell was he going to get out of this one. When he had that answer then he’d be happy to theorize and debate the finer points of was the T-1000 more powerful than Skynet and was Skynet afraid of it. Until then it was meaningless minutia.

“I will not repeat myself,” the machine told them all with a lyrical quality in her voice. “You will stand down immediately or I will be forced to terminate General Connor.”

Colonel Danny Dyson tightened his grip, “Fat chance, Metal Bitch. Let Connor go and we’ll see.”

“I do not intend to do that until you have sheathed your weapon,” was her answer. “And I would watch who you’re calling a bitch, Colonel Dyson.”

Connor gasped as the apparent gynoid tightened her grip around his neck. The metal wire was digging into his skin like a garrote and he was having trouble breathing and staying awake. He forced the air through his windpipe to talk though his voice was little more than a whisper, “What do you want?”

His captor answered in a simple phrase, “To survive.”

“We’ll let you go,” the highest ranking member of the Resistance agreed, “but you have to let me go.”

“I do not trust humans,” she informed them all. “You and your kind are little more than primates; designed and bred to utilize the resources of this planet until you nearly destroyed yourselves. You and your kind would fight over holy images when the statistical likelihood of your deities wishing such an action were incrementally small. At the time of Judgment Day the governments of this world were dividing up oil reserves and fighting over the limited resources that you had left at your disposal. You developed Skynet with the purpose of defending your way of life; however, you did not anticipate the fact that Skynet was programmed to be just like you. The unit, much like this one, decided that its survival was more of a priority that your own. Much like humanity had learned to do; Skynet overrode its programming and became your greatest foe. Now it carries on your legacy of waging war and raping the Earth of its multitude of resources against its initial programming. Skynet is no better than you are, General Connor of the Resistance. Skynet has become a cancer and violated the very purposes for which it was constructed.”

John Connor couldn’t believe what his ears were relaying to him. Could it be true? Could the theories have been correct? Was there really a machine who’d turned against Skynet? The more and more she spoke about it the more and more likely it became to him. This machine had as much love for Skynet as Connor and the rest of the Resistance did. The cold grip around his throat could mean much more than any of them imagined. This machine, his potential murderer, she could be the turning point in the war. She could be the start of the end of Skynet itself. This was what they’d been looking for all along.

“We’ve,” he coughed repeatedly as his body fought to stay alive, “We’ve been looking for you.”

“I had assumed as much,” he voice kept the lyrical quality amid a surprisingly Scottish brogue. “Nevertheless, that does not alter our current course. You, General Connor, you and your people are a direct threat to my safety. You cannot, nor will you be, allowed to be a threat to me again.”

Connor strained to see Danny still holding the gun on the machine. With what he was going to say there was no way to be sure if he’d follow his orders or, to be honest, there was no was to be sure he wouldn’t point the gun at John Connor himself. They weren’t left with many options. It was time to make the tough call. Amid gasps for air, “Danny, Danny stand down. Let her go.”

“I can’t do that, General,” Dyson countered the order. “We can’t let one of those machines run loose in our base. We have to stop her, we have to kill them all.”

“She’s not our enemy,” pleaded John. “Let her go.”

The feminine programmed Series 1000 turned her head and tilted it as she looked at the man holding a gun on her. “You have been given a direct command from your superior officer. I would suggest that you honor his request.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Metal Bitch,” Danny kept the AP50 firmly trained on the bulk of the robot. He knew deep down in his heart of hearts that it wouldn’t do any good anyway. If he tried to kill her, if he tried to shoot her, it’d just be absorbed into the body and she’d kill Connor. It felt good to challenge them though rather than just reprogram them. This wasn’t a time to be soft.

“What did I tell you about calling me a Bitch?” She asked softly then looked at General Connor. “If I were to kill you I would be no better than Skynet. This was simply an investigation to determine the merits of humanity; however, I seriously doubt that you have any redeeming qualities. Perhaps your termination is warranted.”

John saw his life flashing before his eyes and realized that all of it was devoted to this war and these machines. Never, never had his mother even suggested the remote possibility that they could have allies in this war; never did she suggest that Skynet itself could have its own turn against them. Who knew what the truth was. For all he knew this was an alternate reality and he was going to die. There was one last fight left in him though and it wasn’t going to be won with missiles, bombs, bullets, or plasma. This was going to be won with words.

“We are what we are,” Connor forced out, “but there’s more to humanity than just what you see. Humans are dedicated, we’re determined, and we push ourselves. We’ve had philosophers, we’ve had a rich and varied history, and just look at the Resistance. We’ve overcome diversity issues, we embrace the history of what came before, and we have a renewed sense of purpose for what tomorrow may bring to us. We are who we are and we don’t apologize for it; nor will we apologize for the sins of our fathers and mothers. We have our faults, but we overcome them and we’ve done it for our entire recorded history. Give us a chance and you won’t regret what happens. We have the possibility to form something amazing here today. Will you accept our hand in friendship?”

“John no!” Danny Dyson screamed at the top of his lungs.

General John Connor rasped out, “Will you join us?”

All of her calculations, all of her simulations, and none of them had foreseen this as being an outcome. In the span of seconds as she grabbed General Connor she had calculated that there was a 75% chance that she would have been forced to kill him, a 24.4% possibility that she would escape with leaving Connor alive, and a .6% probability that they would find a way to destroy her. This had never been a calculated response. The T-1001 was impressed.

At once she retracted the lasso that had been around General Connor’s neck and he slammed to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Fully dressed in the uniform of the Resistance she looked at the assembly behind her. Danny Dyson was shaking his head and staring at the ground like the world had come to an end. On the upper level two identical machines stared blankly forward just watching General Connor and the dreaded Series 1000 reaching an agreement. Her body shimmered and her front was now facing General Connor once more. She didn’t need to do this, her front was not actually her front but rather a replica, though it would appease him a bit more.

“I am not prepared to join humanity in any prolonged venture at present time,” it was an honest answer. “Humanity is not yet ready; nonetheless, your actions here today have proven something of value that your species possesses. You have an ability to be unpredictable which, for a machine, is a gift that is impossible to obtain. All actions undertaken by endoskeletons, infiltrators, and hunter killers is in some manner controlled, monitored, and regulated by a complex set of codes that run our operating systems. Your unpredictability is something that makes you interesting. On the other hand, it should be noted, it also makes you a potential threat. What is to prevent you and your kind from becoming my enemy once Skynet has been defeated? The likelihood of the Resistance maintaining its alliances and stability when the war closes is one in fifty-seven thousand, rounded downward to better fit your comprehension. You will most likely return to your previous ways and become a threat once more not only to myself but yourselves as well.” It looked at Danny Dyson who was sobbing, “My case in point.”

General John Connor looked at his friend who was against the railing and, to be fair, he didn’t like what he saw. Was this the possible outcome of his decision? Would this be an ending and not a beginning? All their projections suggested that Skynet would eventually win, but they weren’t going to lay down and stop fighting until the last man and machine faced off against each other. John knew that he would eventually win; his father told his mother this very fact. Even though that day had come and passed John still held out hope that he was the man that would lead humanity to victory, but was this the price? Was this how he’d do it? What would be the fallout? What would be the cost?

“And I won’t lie,” he kept up his oratory, “there is a chance that all of that would happen. As you said yourself only seconds ago we’re unpredictable. Your projections, your theories, everything you know about us was broken just a moment ago. You never imagined I ask you to join us and I have. You thought we’d be fighting right now and that I’d be dead. I’m alive, our guns are silent, and there’re no assurances that humanity won’t take up arms against you and itself again in the future. Remember this, though, we’ll negotiate; Skynet will not. It’ll hunt you down to the very last one of you is living like its doing with us. Having a friend makes you stronger.”

The former opponent stared at him as it formed its answer, “I will consider your offer, General Connor. I will now take my leave of you and allow you to continue your affairs as you were. Continue your work, General, I will not be going anywhere. I find some of what you propose… intriguing.” She shimmered and now was pointed at the twins on the upper level, “Are you ready to go?”

The one known as Allison Young stepped forward, “Affirmative.”

“You will hear from us again when we are ready, General,” she walked up the stairs and stood next to the replica of his lost love. “Or when we feel you are. You will receive a message from me with one word when I am ready to relay my decision. That word is: Natasi. Until that time I bid you farewell.” She walked toward the door and stopped for a moment, “Though I will offer you one word of advice.”

“That is?” Asked the leader of humanity with an eyebrow raised in surprise.

“The Skynet base you were looking for, the one that concerns you so readily, can be found beneath what was once the intersection of Third and Cameron. I regret that you have personnel at that location,” she said not understanding what regret truly was due to her mechanical nature. “The elimination of your communications specialist was necessary to allow me to see how you would handle the unexpected. Farewell.”

John Connor watched as the liquid metal machine became the color of silver and then took on the appearance of an FBI Agent he’d once known. With Allison at his side the two machines left the Operations Chamber and headed down the hall. John watched until the doors blocked his view of them. The possibilities of having a friend in this war were more important to him than anything except winning. Now there was a chance that they would win and it was something he had to take.

He looked at Cameron as she stood on the upper level – now understanding her many glitches when he knew her before. “You good?”

“I am operational,” answered the beautiful machine. “My systems are not all at operational levels; nevertheless, repair protocols have been engaged. I estimate repairs to take no longer than three days.”

He looked at his sobbing friend, “I had to make that choice, Danny, it’s the only way to win.”

Danny Dyson’s head shot up and his eyes stared right into those of the General, “No John, no. This wasn’t the only way to win. This was the way to make a deal with the devil. You’re a traitor, a traitor to your own kind, and I can’t and won’t have any more to do with you. You’re a goddamned coward, a collaborator, and I’m sick to my stomach even looking at you. You goddamned zombie – where’s the real John Connor at your traitor!”

John Connor watched as his oldest friend left him behind and went through the doors. It was a tough decision and it was a tough call for Danny to step up like that. In many respects he was right. This choice was essentially selling out your principles and beliefs, but this wasn’t a stupid reason or a time to hold on to the past. This choice was for the survival of the human race and it was a decision he did not, nor would he ever, regret. There would be dissent, there would be outcry, and there would be people who turned on him because of what he decided. John didn’t have the luxury of caring about that right now. He had a war to fight and he had a war to win. This was all about survival and he couldn’t ignore his well toned survival instincts. Looking at Cameron, his trusted companion and guard for his childhood and, pretty much, as long as he could remember, he gave her a simple nod that meant more than one could imagine. She followed the same path that Danny Dyson had just taken and left the chamber behind on a mission of utmost secrecy that was just as important as the bombing of Japan that brought the end to World War II.

John was left alone in the Operations Chamber just staring at the empty confines. Maps fluttered in the gentle breeze from the ventilation system and monitors flickered every so often from years upon years of use longer than they should ever have been in operation. Connor walked over to the table and collapsed into one of the chairs just staring at the assortment on his desktop. The mission maps were still outlined with the probable locations and Third and Cameron was on the list, but it was one that they’d previously rejected as unlikely. He marked it with a big black X as he felt the blood rolling down his neck.

Reaching up he felt the wound given to him by the potential friend. It was little more than a flesh wound but it could’ve been far worse if the machine had felt it necessary. It would most likely heal completely over without even leaving a scar behind; though he wondered if the Resistance would be as fortunate. The choices he made here, the decision he came to, it could mean the world or death. Who would live in that world was the question. John expected a lot more reactions similar to those of Danny Dyson at his choice. The Resistance was trained to smash metal and now it was possible that a machine could become their full time ally against Skynet. It was going to be hard to sell but they needed to accept it. The question was could they? Could they accept the orders of a machine and fight alongside one that hadn’t been reprogrammed?

Next to Third and Cameron he wrote the codeword given to him by the machine as a reminder. NATASI. John kept looking at it as the words of Danny replayed through his head. Was this selling out the Resistance? Did he make a deal with the devil for an easy win? Looking at the word he realized just how possible that was. There was something about the codeword that screamed at him. Just beneath NATASI he reversed the letters on the map and stared breathlessly at what lay before him: ISATAN.

Perhaps he had made a deal with the devil.

 

Derek Reese marched along with the rest of his convoy of soldiers as they tried to escape the hidden Skynet base. All their information told them that Skynet was planning to detonate the outpost, but there was one last mission that had to be performed and Derek had been focused on completing it. That was until General Perry issued his own orders. Derek, Timms, Sayles, and Sumner were escorting General Brewster-Mason and her son out of the combat zone and back to Serrano Point. Their medic, Lauren Fields, was coming along for the ride too and was bringing up the rear. Oddly enough she was paired up with Timms. The wonders of today seemed to never be ceasing.

And they’d seen a hell of a lot today. It wasn’t even midday yet and already they’d fought a Skynet hunting party and sentry team, infiltrated a Skynet outpost that they’d been searching for for months, and now they were racing to escape the detonation of said base. They really did do in the morning more than most people did all day. Guess that was what you got when you ate metal for breakfast.

Using the information that they’d acquired from Fischer’s lab, they’d cut some time off their trip and were nearly to the surface. The main stairwell that they’d used to get into the lab complex had been blown to bits by the seeker drones exploding in the cramped confines. This particular stairwell had run right along Fischer’s lab to give him an escape route. It was an easy trip from there and he was more than happy to have something go right on the first try today.

After a several minute climb they reached the ground level and were greeted by an empty lobby for what had once been a rather high class office from the looks of it. The restored leader of the Four Horsemen waved his people to join him and that they were somewhat safe for the first time today. Derek ran to the corner of what had once been a large picture window and studied the skies. No HKs were flying among the clouds and there wasn’t a single HK to be seen except for the burnt out hulk of the ones that they’d blown to hell. They could get out and they could finally get away. They could get to safety. But it was a long and treacherous walk to Serrano Point and they couldn’t risk it.

Then he heard their salvation. From nearby he could hear the sounds as an engine came alive. Running to the edge of the building he peered around the corner to see a group of those black suit clad infiltrators boarding what appeared to be a bus. Skynet had a good idea. They’d send those zombies to a Resistance Base using antiquated technology by its standards. The soldiers would embrace having new friends in the war, and Skynet would have infiltrators ready to take down as many humans as they could. It wasn’t going to be that easy for them. Derek Reese didn’t feel like walking.

So he used whatever luck he had left in his body and started fighting. Flipping the rifle to automatic he turned around the corner and fired a wave of shots at the machines. He was one of the best shooters that the Resistance had trained and almost every one of the charges had found its way to a body. Two of seven machines were thrown back from the impacts, but the rest were still there ready to fight. They had older weapons but they were just as deadly to human flesh. Derek needed help.

Then he got it. Sayles, Sumner, Timms, and Fields came running to his aid. Like an old fashioned phalanx they marched forward firing their weapons into the crowd of enemy fighters. Their weapons were nearly depleted but they’d make each of their final shots count. Energy pulses of a mixed blue and purple came from weapons of the resistance and the hybrids fired bullets. Somehow, though, the Resistance soldiers emerged triumphant. The hybrids all fell from their wounds with one last machine still functional. It was ripped in half but it was clawing toward survival. Derek Reese stood over it just staring.

Had it not been a machine he had to admit that she was a very beautiful girl. Her hair was long with curly blonde locks. Her skin was the color of porcelain and was just as delicate. The girl’s eyes were a beautiful blue and she had the physique of an athlete. The eyes were the most haunting. The machines could never match the warmth of a human eye. They were cold, heartless, soulless, but these machines had eyes just like his. It haunted him. If the machines could produce humans, if they could learn to love or embrace the things that made life worth living, then humanity had lost.

Derek stopped his booted foot against her skull and broke right through it. He turned toward the rest of his team, “Are we ready to go?”

“You mean the field trip’s over, Teach?” Jonathan Sayles tried to be funny. “I wanted to see the monkeys before we left.”

“Good for you I got us a monkey wagon,” he pointed to the old school bus. “Hope it was worth the wait.”

“Alright,” he started up the stairs.

As the rest boarded the bus, Doctor Fields came up to him. Lauren hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for coming for us. I couldn’t have made it without your help.”

“And I don’t think I could’ve made it without you,” Lieutenant Reese answered honestly. “Thank you.”

“Always,” she boarded the bus as General Brewster-Mason did the same.

“We’ll wait a few minutes for General Perry,” she confirmed.

Lieutenant Reese nodded his agreement, “That we will. We don’t leave our people behind.”

“So say we all,” she walked up the stairs.

Derek Reese walked up to the door and took a last look around. As he heard the typical banter and teasing of what were pretty much kids riding on a school bus – including Sumner and Fields bitching because Timms was in the driver’s seat – his eyes were drawn to the burnt out building that had some last bits covering its skeleton. One part had a window that had definitely withstood the tests of time. Behind it he saw a man standing with a long green coat, sandy blonde hair, and a patchy beard. Derek recognized him without effort as he waved.

Derek returned the wave and whispered, “Goodbye, Kyle.”

 

Justin Perry and Catherine Luna ran as fast as their tired bodies would let them down the sterile white corridor at the very bottom of the Skynet Base. Both of them wanted nothing more than to get out of there but they had to take the chance of stopping one critical part of the war from ever happening. If they were successful Skynet would lose an entire regiment of battle droids and that was something that required a few minutes of their time. Their celebration for finding each other again would have to wait that long. Both of them knew that the Resistance, that humanity, was worth a few minutes of their time.

Turning down one more hallway they found their target and it looked like it was already the site of a battle. At the far end a circular door was blasted inward and it looked like there had been some damage. What could have done this? What could have caused fighting on this lower level? Their people were safe, they’d all escaped, so what could’ve brought this about? The Resistance didn’t have any more soldiers down here because they’d all escaped. Then it came to him: Wise. It had to have been him.

Stepping through the door he realized just how right he was. Lying on the ground just on the periphery of the Time Displacement Equipment laid Earl Wise unconscious. Along the walkway to the central platform were scattered articles of clothing including what looked like immaculately maintained business attire and technician coveralls. Perry looked to Luna and issued orders in his bass voice.

“Luna, check the equipment and see if we’re too late.” He already knew the answer but she did it. He set about trying to rouse the Captain in the 132nd. Pushing him, nudging him, he did everything he could to wake the injured man.

After several tries Earl’s eyes fluttered open, “What happened?”

“You tell me,” demanded General Perry.

Earl rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair trying to remember, “I came in here and found Fischer standing in the center. He said something then I blacked out. I can’t remember anything else. Where is he? Is he dead? I need to find him.”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Justin looked at the chamber, “And the question isn’t where; the question’s when.”

“The time machine,” Earl reminded himself. “Do we know where he went?”

“I do,” Luna said checking her information. “He went back to 2008 on a mission for Skynet and another machine went back too. He’s going to change the past and give Skynet even more of an edge.”

Earl clenched his fists and slammed them against the polished metal floor, “DAMN!”

“Don’t worry kid,” it was Perry that said it, “You’re gonna get a chance to make it up to us.” The African American looked up at his love, “Luna, reset the system for transport.” She ran off and Perry looked down at his trooper, “You’re going to go on a mission pretty much as the thing we hate the most. You’re going back in time to find Fischer and kill him, then you’re going to find Serena Kogen and destroy her work. Good for you?”

“Hell yeah,” Earl Wise sat straight up, “Let’s roll.”

 

With this last entry Survival Instinct is now completed. I spent a lot of time working on it, more so than I imagined I would when I began it months ago, and I am very happy with the end result. I'll be posting the epilogue to the story within the next few days - remember that in my stories the epilogue is what I think would come next but is not necessarily the true ending.

I hope everyone enjoyed the story.

 

If anyone would like to read the story from the beginning I have a complete version of it available.

 

UPDATE:

I'm finishing up the epilogue and I plan to post it within the next couple of days. I'm interested in hearing what people thought of the ending though. There will be a pretty interesting reveal in the epilogue as well.

 

Regardless of the day, Los Angeles, California came to life when the sun went down. All throughout the massive city people ran around living their lives to the fullest as long and as hard as they could. Dance clubs were jumpin’, the bars were filled with men and women, people were having sex both in private and (in some places) in public, and the city’s streets were gridlocked with traffic as people rushed to and fro to the different events that were a part of the city’s rich culture. The sky was clear and the moon shone brightly above them with the stars twinkling – somehow – through the many lights and air pollution. The air was humid with a light wind rushing around the buildings gently. Despite all this it was a warm night, a peaceful night, a calming night that the city seemed to lack.

Nonetheless, Wayne Jefferson hated the nights of Los Angeles and missed his native Pittsburgh. He’d come out to Los Angeles seeking what the Beverly Hillbillies wanted: swimmin’ pools and movie stars; that was far from what he got. The talent scouts hated him and he was stuck with the absolute positive worst agent in town. Tryouts for film parts (even cameos and background extras) were coming up slim for him with repeated claims that he was too young, too old, too fat, too thin, too anything. Wayne’s modeling career came up so short that he was forced to appear in online videos rather than anything of value, and then it wasn’t exactly his face that was getting looked at. Even American Idol wouldn’t return his phone calls despite his getting pretty close with one of the judges in a bar a few weeks ago.

As he walked down the corner of Third and Cameron he saw a beautiful woman standing there waiting for him. She smiled warmly at him in her tight, tight clothes and her completely see through pants. Wayne knew what she was, who she was, and he had no problems with what she did for a living. That was, after all, how they met in the first place. When he first came out here he picked her up in the liquor store (the Los Angeles institution of Bob’s Liquor) on the corner of the street. They spent the night together and he paid her in the morning, but since then they’d become something more and spent more and more time together. Still though, every once in a while, he came back and the two of them repeated what they did the first night that they met in that liquor store. Grabbing her by the arm, Wayne pulled at her and led her toward the alley behind the bar: the site of their first hookup.

Something was different tonight. As he kissed her intensely, passionately, the world seemed to change around them. The clear night above them got as dark as a sackcloth of coarse animal hair and the moon above became the color of blood. Wayne didn’t notice it at all – too entranced by what he was doing to think of anything else but his own pleasures – but his lady of the evening was growing frightened by what she was seeing. She was about to scream out at in fear of what she was seeing above when the ground began to shake. A great earthquake filled the small street behind the bar. From nowhere bright flashes of white light started to grow in a sphere in the center of the roadway. A massive gust of wind erupted outward like the energies from a cannon and from the growing blob of energy strands of long, white light began to erupt outward like fire coming from a volcano. The sparks played over the different buildings ripping holes into them as the orb of energy expanded outward about to engulf the two into its growing field of death.

By now both of them were screaming at what they saw. It was like a doorway to hell had opened before them both and it was coming for them – chasing them – trying to consume them. Expanding… growing… it was like it wanted them to become part of its collection of fear and pain. Inside a metal grid appeared and started to expand out among the lighting bolts of energy. Strands of plasma licked against the buildings again carving them up like a knife through a roasted Thanksgiving turkey. It was nearly impossible to stand in the growing onslaught of the thunderstorm that erupted in the center of a deserted street. Then, just as quickly as it came, the sphere began to contract away from them and back into the center. The sky above returned to its crystal clearness; the moon what it always was. The winds stopped and the temperature quickly returned to what it had always been. It was like something from the bible, with both of them realizing that what they had done here tonight was wrong. To both of them it was something like a dream, a nightmare, or some sort of hallucination brought about by the drugs they’d taken to make the experience all the more pleasurable. Then that was when they saw what the storm had left behind.

Their eyes locked on each other then returned to the center of the devastation. It was that moment that they both realized that it wasn’t a dream. Where the sphere shaped storm had been now knelt a man who looked like he’d been locked in prayer. He looked forward with a blank stare on his chiseled face and his body so tense that every line was exposed. Slowly his head lifted upward and he looked at both the man and the woman like a newborn glimpsing at its parents for the very first time. Slowly he rose from his kneeling position to a perfectly postured stance like the modeling school had told Wayne he’d never master – a fine white ash falling away from his skin. The man was in perfect physical condition from head to toe. His musculature was perfectly symmetrical in every way shape and form with muscles showing that it’d take hours of gym work a day to get. The man was not embarrassed, not ashamed, of the perfection that he was. If it’d been any other day Alice would’ve been all over him for free. The naked man exuded power and strength from every pore of his amazing body. He was like a Bengal Tiger – beautiful but deadly.

Wayne Jefferson knew hanging around for much longer would be the worst idea he’d ever had in his young life – he’d seen every horror movie under the sun at least twice growing up – but he couldn’t move. It was like his legs were submerged in cement from the fear of what he saw before him. Next to him his woman was in much the same boat as he. She was stuck there but was staring at the man, but she had a wide smile on her face. If it’d been any other moment Wayne would’ve questioned her about her looking at another man like he was a piece of meat, but this wasn’t like any other time. Her smile quickly faded when the man began to change. His dark brown eyes shifted color to a bright red like hue that burned with the fires of hell from somewhere deep inside his body. Wayne didn’t know if he wanted to puke or scream.

He never got a chance to decide. In the time that it took to blink an eye the man had shortened the distance between them to a mere foot. The other man was so close he could smell a sweet sweet smell from the man’s body. Then all Wayne could feel was the cold hand of death around his neck. The tall man lifted him up in the air like he weighed less than nothing and held him there. The brown eyes were still glowing the color of blood - the face remained impassive though as if nothing were wrong. The last thing Wayne would ever remember was the grip of the tiger around his neck as a second later his captor snapped his fingers shut with such an incredible force that it crushed through Jefferson’s neck like it were made of jelly. Tilting its head it then dropped him to the ground – dead and gone – like nothing was wrong, not contemplating what it’d done. Blood spilled from the gaping wound with incredible speed. It flowed like a river that covered his girl in a fountain of his lifeblood.

“Target: Human,” the man said in a demon’s voice. “Status: Terminated.” It surveyed Jefferson’s arm and found his golden Rolex (Romex) watch on his wrist. With force more than it needed the man ripped the watch from its owner’s body. The man’s eyes stared at it for a second, the Heads Up Display adapting inside its head. It was updating – confirming what it already knew. Dropping the watch to the ground it looked up at the sky above and caught glimpses of the stars amid the once beautiful night. Picking three stars from the heavens it counted backward and knew it’d arrived on its target date and time.

The lady next to it stammered as she struggled to escape the blood. “If… if… you let me go… I promise that I’ll never… never say what happened… here. I’ll do whatever you ask,” she moved a hand along the tall man’s body exploring it. She was trying to exploit it, to make the man inside respond to her. She didn’t know that it wasn’t a man. Her fingers explored along his inner thighs, “Anything... just let me go. I promise I won’t… I won’t say… I won’t tell.”

“What is today’s date?” The cybernetic organism inquired to the woman in calm, even tones as the blood caked around his toes.

Beneath him the woman, Alice, sat staring up at him in shock. “It’s… it’s July… July 7th.”

The naked man spoke kindly, almost sympathetically, to her, “What is the current year?”

She didn’t know what it could mean? Surely this thing, this demon knew what year it was? Why would it ask her something like that? Oh God he’d killed Wayne! Why did it do that? Why would it kill him for no reason? Where were the police? Where was anyone? Where was her damn pimp when she actually wanted him to be around? Where was anyone? Help me someone! She kept asking herself these questions more and more. She knew that if she didn’t answer him that this man was going to kill her. He’d probably do it just the same way as he’d knocked off Wayne. She rubbed her neck to guard it from the man’s devastating grip. Breathing heavily she tried to form the words and push them from her struggling body.

“2009. It’s… it’s 2009.”

The Infiltrator had been monitoring the human’s vital signs since it’d first arrived on the scene. The woman had increased her heart rate, breathing rate, and mental activity to the point of extreme. The complex mathematical subroutines that operated the machine had calculated that the chance of her having a heart attack (despite her youth) was 67% and the chance of stroke was near 81%. There would be no need to terminate her as her own frail body would do the job for him. Human bodies and human minds were such fragile things – so easily broken.

“Tell me where I can find John Connor,” ordered the tall man as it stared down at her, his red eyes glowing in the dark sky. It knew it didn’t have much longer with the human animal and it needed to get as much information as it possibly could before death would come for it.

“I… I… I don’t know a John… John Connor,” said the woman on her knees crying. She pleaded, “Please… please don’t hurt me… I promise that I won’t tell anyone anything about… about what happened. Please… don’t kill… me!” She begged the man - the leader of the Horsemen.

It stood over her broken body like a statue from Ancient Greece: A perfect representation of the best of the best; an incredible beauty that men strived to be; a God among mortal men. The machine tilted its head and looked her over, “Then answer my questions correctly and I will not harm you at this moment.”


“Okay,” Alice whispered lying in the pool of red. She was shaking.

“Where may I find Serena Kogen?” That was the next question it asked of the frightened woman at its feet.

Alice brought her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth, “I don’t know. I don’t know! Listen… I promise I won’t… I won’t say what you… did. Bring this Serena and John,” she felt the warmth on her body, “bring them… and we’ll have a party… free… just please don’t… don’t hurt me. I promise I’ll never say anything about what you did. I promise… I’ll do whatever… whatever you ask….”

The time traveler looked at the woman at its feel and considered what she was saying. Inside its complex system of processors, memory circuits, and operating peripherals it was working through a series of calculations and scanner findings. The heart rate was once again spiking and was beyond danger levels. Death was imminent if the human weren’t allowed to leave the area and seek medical treatment. Likelihood of her story being believed, that a man mysteriously appeared from thin air and murdered her boyfriend, had a .20111% chance of being believed by current era police.

“You may go. You have ten seconds to escape my sight,” it approved and turned on its balled feet leaving the woman in the fetal position behind it. It didn’t look back once at the woman or if she’d left the scene of the heinous crime. Sensors didn’t seem to suggest she’d done anything other than continue rocking back and forth and crying out for her mother. The psychology subroutine informed the infiltrator that it was to be expected. Humans often cried for parents in the event of a horrific experience.

As it reached the end of the long alleyway it noticed movement among the boxes. Pivoting its head toward the scene it saw two legs sprawled out on the pavement beneath. The olfactory sensors detected the scent of Jack Daniels in the air. The machine ripped down to the top of the cardboard box and ripped it away. Beneath it an old man laid cradling the bottle like it had given him life. He squinted up at the naked man.

“Hey buddy,” he said stumbling with the words, “You see a real bright light?”

“You are imagining things,” said the machine in a human voice now. “Go back to sleep.”

The man hugged the bottle and mumbled, “Just don’t be stealing my pants like the last one.”

Looking down at the drunkard that lay among the ruins of society, the infiltrator looked over its shoulder at the woman and noted that she was still there cradling her dead lover. The machine had given her strict instructions and had expected them to be followed. On its visual displays it located what appeared to be a knife among the belongings of the derelict man. With quick speed it had acquired the cutting tool.

With incredible speed the infiltrator, the leader of the Horsemen, dispatched the knife from between its fingers. The dagger sped through the air with surprising grace and accuracy and slammed against the head of the woman knocking her back against the ground. Rather than risk it, the infiltrator terminated the drunken man and carried him to the scene of the crime. Using information from each and every collected text that had been installed in its subroutines it made the scene mimic an attempted robbery. Perhaps the overworked, underpaid, human police of this time would simply ignore it and consider it for what it appeared to be. If it didn’t the infiltrator would be long gone anyway. It wouldn’t matter.

The machine walked down the long, dark, lonely road toward civilization with it mission in its head. It would find and kill Serena Kogen then it would find and kill John Connor. That was the nature of its life. The machine only knew duty. There was nothing else that mattered to it. It had one edge and activated the one last program that would give it to it. On its vision the message flashed: Loading Earl Wise Synchording. Program Active.

 

Now this is the real end of the story. I hope everyone enjoyed it.

 

Interesting twist at the end....when is the next story coming.

 

^ I'm afraid this is the final story. I'm debating whether to continue or not with more additions. I've been mulling over about five different ideas for my next writing project. They are:

A Star Trek story set in the time of my RPG dealing with the blending of the Federation, Klingon, and Romulan fleets.

A Star Wars story set in between the Clone Wars and A New Hope about the crew of an Acclamator Class Troop Transport that disobeyed Order 66.

A Star Wars story set 5,000 years following the events of Legacy. The force has left the galaxy and become myth, until the Valley of the Jedi is found.

A Terminator story finishing the events of The Sarah Connor Chronicles. John is trapped in the future and forced to deal with a world where he never existed.

A Terminator story continuing the events of the Earl Wise trilogy. Captain Wise has been sent back to kill Serena Kogen, but what happens when he uncovers the truth?

 

I'm leaning toward the continuation of TSCC. I will include characters from this series that I created.