Act 2: The Time Machine
Somewhere Over Arizona
Ian sits in the corner of the cramped washroom adjoining the conference area, his body pulled into a ball and unable to stop the shakes wracking his limbs.
Outside in the conference room, John paces back and forth in front of a green chalkboard, hands clasped behind him. Around the conference table sit over a dozen men and women in dull grey uniforms holding side conversations with each other. Standing near the washroom door is Kyle, looking awkward and out of place next to his fellow officers.
John turns suddenly and fixes Kyle with a beady stare. “He’s been in there long enough. Get him out.”
Kyle returns a nervous frown and raps on the door hesitantly. “Ian? Are you okay in there?” There is no answer. “Ian, I’m coming in.” He cracks the door and peers in, seeing Ian in the corner.
Kyle gives John another look. “Give us a minute.” Kyle enters the room and closes the door behind him, sliding down the wall opposite the boy so that they are both sitting on the floor. Kyle looks around the cramped washroom with its sterile lighting and breaks the silence. “This is cozy.”
The boy doesn’t respond. Kyle continues. “You’d never left the compound before, had you?”
Finally, he gets a response. The boy shakes his head. “Just pictures, video feeds, schematics.”
Kyle gazes at the boy in concern. “This must be a lot to take in. I’m sorry. I know John’s not helping things. I don’t think he ever learned how to deal with anyone who wasn’t a soldier…or a machine.”
The boy looks at the door fearfully. “The way he looks at me…he hates us. I know what they call me.”
Kyle puts out his hand. “Don’t listen to them, kid. And John doesn’t hate you. He hates Skynet. Hates the machines. You won’t find any here who don’t. It’s just that some here are slow to trust anyone who worked for for them…the machines. John doesn’t trust easily.” Kyle laughs to himself. “Doesn’t make many friends.” Kyle looks back at the boy. “I mean, you’re not, right? You know Skynet was using you…lying to you.”
The boy shakes his head, but then looks unsure. “I…I don’t know. I know Skynet made horrible mistakes, but Mishi said Skynet wanted to fix it. We were going to fix it…fix the world.”
Kyle’s expression is one of understanding, and pity. “And you think that if you tell John what you know, you’ll be betraying Skynet, and betraying Tagawa.”
The boy nods, a tear running down his cheek. John moves over beside the boy so that they are sitting side by side. “You told me what those machines did to Tagawa. That’s what they do. They inflict pain, if it is in their interest. They aren’t human…not like us.”
Ian looks up at Kyle. “Why did they hurt him? What are they going to do to him?”
Kyle sighs. “I wish I could tell you, but that’s up to John. If you want to save Tagawa, John’s the one to make that happen.”
Ian looks away, and Kyle looks down at the boy. “Ian, listen. I know John may seem hard, but that’s because he’s seen things you and I will hopefully never have to see. But there’s a good man beneath all that hardness, and I know that if there’s any way to save Tagawa, he’ll find it.”
The boy sniffs, wiping his nose. “Promise?”
Kyle holds out his hand. “Promise. Now what do you say to talking about this project you and Mishi were working on? I’ll be there with you…we’ll do it together.”
The boy smiles despite his tears. “Okay.” He takes Kyle’s hand and together they leave the washroom.
Ian strides back into the conference room, a determined look on his face, and makes a beeline for the chalkboard. Kyle follows close behind. John moves to intercept the boy but he brushes past John without looking at him and picks up a piece of chalk. Immediately he begins drawing a diagram on the board, eyes focused on his task and ignoring the eyes of the officers filling the room.
Kyle takes a seat at the front, motioning for John to come join him. The severe man eventually does, settling into his seat and looking at Kyle as if trying to divine his previous conversation. Kyle notices the man’s look and gives a thumbs up. “He’s got this.” Kyle whispers to John as the boy continues scraping lines on the board.
There is the sound of chalk hitting its aluminum tray and the boy steps away from his drawing, saying nothing. On the board is the image of two circles, one nested within the other. In the center of the circles is a third, much smaller and connected to the outer circles via a constellation of lines, each radiating off above and below the central circle to connect with scribbled boxes of various sizes.
A hand goes up in the back of the room and a voice follows quick on the motion. “Uh, yes, what are we looking at here?”
Ian nervously points to a bit of the drawing. “Um, so, this is the TDE…the Temporal Displacement Equipment…and this is the outer shell of the crucible, which is constructed around the inner shell and the core, which holds the central displacement volume. It is powered by…”
Ian looks back at the blank faces around the room as he speaks, glancing at Kyle, whose hand goes slowly up. He stops talking. “Yes.” He points to Kyle.
Kyle glances around the room, assessing the other officers. “As you all know, I’m not really a tech guy.” There are some chuckles at this, and Kyle turns to Ian. “And really, the only time I went to school was to scavenge cafeteria food. So when you say Temporal Displacement…”
John speaks up. “Time travel.”
There is silence in the room. Ian nods, finally meeting John’s eyes.
Another hand goes up slowly, then comes back down. Ian looks at it. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, but do we really believe this?” The voice is from a thin woman at the side of the room. She scans the faces around her. “Time travel? That’s science fiction stuff.” She moves to get up from the table. “Someone’s being had, and it ain’t me.”
“It’s real.”
The woman freezes in place. The words came from John Connor, iron with confidence and authority. “This is important, Jen. Sit down and listen.”
Ian stares at John, surprised to have him as a defender. The woman settles back into her seat. John inclines his head toward Ian. “Perhaps you should start again, from the top this time.”
Ian nods, collecting his thoughts. Finally, he begins. “Mishi was working on…that is, Mishiko Tagawa, my superior, has been working on a secret project for thirty years…ever since Judgment Day. In 1998 he developed the theory that with enough focused energy, it may be possible to displace an object in time.”
Ian fixes a look on John. “He wanted to stop Judgment Day. That was what kept him alive, he said. But he was faced with a problem. See, the power systems and technology of humanity had been almost wiped out. There was no way to build or power his machine…not if he relied on human infrastructure. So he met with Skynet…convinced it that they could work together.”
A derisive laugh interrupts the speech. “Traitorous scum.”
Kyle stares down the offender, and Ian continues. “He believed that Skynet regretted its decision to drop the bombs. He believed that it wanted to atone, wanted to make a world where Skynet and humanity could live in peace, where the bombs never fell. He had the theories, Skynet had the power. So they joined forces…and made this.” He gestures to the diagram on the board.
Another hand goes up. “So obviously Skynet was lying to him…to gain his cooperation. But what exactly would a time machine accomplish?” It’s the thin woman again. “I mean, let’s say you stop Judgment Day. Doesn’t that mean that this world no longer exists? Wouldn’t Skynet just be deleting itself?”
Ian picks up the chalk again and points it at the woman. “That’s one possibility. Another possibility is that going back in time would create another timeline entirely. However, in practice it doesn’t really matter, because Mishi found a way around it.” Ian taps the chalk against the diagram of the Temporal Displacement Equipment. “See, this central core isn’t just a housing for the Displacement Equipment…it is itself a vessel.” Ian points to the central area of the diagram. “The energy flux opens a portal in time, and surrounding that portal is an energy matrix that isolates the entire core across spacetime.”
John interjects. “I think you’ve lost us again.”
The boy turns, noting the blank faces. “Sorry. Um, let me try to explain…” He goes back to the branching timeline diagram. “Okay, initially, the portal only leads a few hours into the past…” Ian puts a line through the timeline, and writes the year 2029 on that line. “…but it gradually goes deeper, digging down through time.” The chalk traces down the drawing to the bottom of the chalkboard. “It can go years, decades into the past. And then, whatever goes through that portal begins another timeline…and that new timeline is visible to the core.” Ian makes an ‘X’ on the timeline near its base, tracing the divergent branch up to the present. He circles the intersection point of the original timeline and 2029, drawing an arrow to the new timeline at 2029. “At the moment someone enters the portal, the Temporal Core exists in a superposition between the two timelines, and when the portal closes, the core will be able to resolve into the new timeline. The time traveler acts like…”
Another man speaks up. “…like a hook from a grappling gun. And that core is the gun.”
Ian looks up from his work. “In a way…yes.”
There is silence as everyone digests this information.
The thin woman speaks up again. “So Skynet is trying to jump from this timeline into another one.” She looks around the table. “Why don’t we just let it go? Mission accomplished, war won.”
John rises and gives the table his full attention. “There’s no guarantee that changing the past won’t delete this timeline. And even if it doesn’t, I won’t be responsible for allowing Skynet to destroy another world. Skynet will pay for its crimes…and it will pay for them here. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
The table is silent. Satisfied, John sits back down. An arm slowly goes up in the back and Ian acknowledges it. The man speaks. “How many people could go through this portal?”
Ian goes back to the diagram, drawing a line parallel to the original timeline and loop at the bottom of the timeline. “It’s designed to accept only one person at a time, but you could go through the portal at any point as it’s descending to its target depth. Once it reaches its target depth it remains there for about a hundred seconds, then loops and begins its return journey, so for any given point in time, two people could go back to that point…one on the downward side, and another on the upward side.” He traces down one line and back up the other line to illustrate his point.
John cocks his head. “So if the target depth was, say, 1984, only two…people…could go through to that time?”
Ian nods. “That’s right.”
Kyle glances over at John, whose eyes are now half closed as if fighting sleep. However, he doesn’t miss the keen light in John’s half-closed eyes, the intensity underneath the feined disinterest.
Jen asks a question. “How many times can this machine be activated?”
Ian’s answer is firm. “It was designed for only a single use. Down and back.”
Another voice pipes up. “So what’s Skynet’s plan? Send someone back in time, then…”
Ian nods. “Then Skynet and everyone in the core is shifted into the new timeline.”
A man in the back of the room rises to his feet. “So we blow it up.” There are murmurs of agreement. The man continues. “Why are we talking about this technical time displacement stuff like it matters? Just bomb the place and move out. Mission accomplished.”
John gestures to Ian, palm up. “He makes a good point. But I imagine Skynet has anticipated such a straightforward maneuver?”
Ian taps the chalk against his hand. “Yes. The facility’s anti-air defenses are…considerable. Mishi considered them overkill.”
John looks back at the man, who averts his eyes, thinking. “So we land outside their defenses and launch a ground attack.” He frowns. “But we left our heavy tanks in Colorado…what can we hope to do with just infantry and light vehicle?”
Russ speaks. “We return to fundamentals. Land downtown, use the cover to negate their armor advantage…we take our team into the facility and if the machine is active we shut it down…then use Sarah to zero the entire place.”
John smiles fiercely at Russ, scanning the rest of the table. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
A small voice interjects. “It won’t come to that.”
John’s smile turns sour as he turns back to Ian. “And why not?”
“The machine won’t work without Mishiko.”
John leans forward. “Explain.”
Ian begins to pace. “There are safeguards that Mishi designed into the system, ones that can’t be circumvented. For example, nothing metal can go through the portal. Mishi made sure to design the system in such a way that it would need to detect the bioelectrical field generated by a living organism in order to activate.” Ian continues, pacing back and forth. “And Mishiko ensured that he would have to be there to activate the machine. The activation is dependent on his own voice print and biosignature…handprint, retinal scan…and a code that only he knows. The system is secure.”
There are murmurs of interest at this, dark looks shared between the officers.
Jen chuckles darkly. “The kid doesn’t know.”
Ian looks around. “I don’t know what?”
John’s eyes flicker down, almost unwilling to be the bearer of bad news. “You’ve been kept out of the loop, Fritz. Skynet’s latest line of infiltrator units are cyborgs…metal endoskeletons covered in human flesh. They’ll pass for human on any bio-scan.”
The boy’s eyes go wide. “What?”
John rises. “They’ll be able to go back in time, the same as any human. And about that code in Tagawa’s brain…” He turns and addresses the room. “As some of you are aware, there have been several serious intelligence breaches in the last few weeks. At first, we thought that these were the actions of high-level officers going rogue and defecting to the machines, but two days ago there was a raid on our headquarters in New York. During the raid, General Perry was abducted and an eyewitness saw the machines insert something…something described as a long needle…into the base of the general’s skull.” John scans the officers. “Twelve hours later, there was a devastating attack on forces formerly under Perry’s control…using intel known only to him.”
There are murmurs and shocked expressions. Jen mutters. “So they’ve skipped interrogation and are going straight to downloading our brains?”
John nods. “This incident has been collated with others. If someone is compromised in this way, after twelve hours there is likely nothing within their mind that can remain hidden from the machines.” John turns to Ian. “This device was implanted in Tagawa at o-seven hundred. Adjusted for Pacific time, that would mean that whatever codes he has will be available to Skynet no later than o-six hundred tomorrow morning.”
Jen interjects. “Dawn.”
Ian stumbles over his words. “So we need to rescue him before then.” He looks out over the group of stony-faced men and women. “We just need to rescue him, and Skynet loses.”
John looks at the boy. “Time is against us. It may not be possible to save Tagawa, even if we get there in time.”
Ian is still. He glares at John. “You don’t intend to. That’s what you mean.”
John returns the boy’s glare. “It’s tactically dangerous…in my mind, Tagawa’s already on the casualty list.”
Kyle rises. “John, that’s enough.” There is silence in the room, and Kyle turns around. All eyes are on him. He continues, speaking to everyone. “If we’re committed to a ground attack, a rescue is surely on the table. If we get into the core, rescue Tagawa, Skynet will be forced to accept terms. The war could end before dawn.”
Silence descends over the conference room, disturbed only by the muted roar of the plane in flight and the clouds rushing by outside.
Finally John speaks, quietly but with assurance. “I know there are some who are desperate for peace. Even here, in this room, there are a few who question my leadership on this. And I might even accept Skynet’s unconditional surrender…given in good faith. Do not think that the millions who must still die do not weigh heavily on me. But I think this device…” He rises and points at the chalkboard illustration. “…this thing proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Skynet was never acting in good faith. It only held out an olive branch so that it would have time to escape…fleeing to a world where none would oppose it. Whatever happens, that machine must be destroyed.”
Kyle raises a hand toward John. “But if we can force Skynet to surrender…would you spare it’s circuits, John? Accept peace?”
A slight smile lights John’s face, though it doesn’t improve his features. “To end the war…yes. But that time machine is the greatest threat to this world. As long as it exists, there can never be peace.”
Ian finally speaks again. “We’d need to move quickly…to get into the core before o-six hundred.”
John looks impressed. “We? Are you volunteering to join this assault?”
Ian shrinks back, caught beneath the cold lights of the room and the hard gazes of the officers around him. He looks between John and Kyle, between a mask of hard suspicion and a face of understanding. “I…I…yes. Yes, I volunteer.” He looks around the room, finally seeing some begrudging respect in the eyes of the soldiers.
John pats Ian on the shoulder. “I’ll take your enlistment under consideration.” He turns to the table. “I don’t need to tell you that the contents of this meeting are classified. You’ll get your final orders within the hour. Dismissed.”
The officers file out of the room, all hushed discussion and some suspicious glances. Kyle gives Ian a quick smile. “That was a brave thing you did. Talk to me later, I’ll bring you up to speed.”
Los Angeles
The two women shelter beside an outer bend in Mulholland Drive overlooking the city, Emma scanning with the monocular binoculars. She hands them to Cassie, who follows suit. The dark, short haired woman turns to her companion. “So what do you think?”
The gray haired woman is focused on the 101, a strip of cracked, dull highway slithering past the Hollywood Bowl all the way into downtown in a wavering southeasterly line. The burned-out hulks of cars are clumped on the left hand side of the highway heading out of the city toward the San Fernando valley, whose occupants, working or partying in LA at 11:14 PM on August 28th, 1997, received a panicked warning from Civil Defense and died trying to escape the city. Cassie can still see skeletons sitting in the car seats, waiting in a traffic jam frozen in time.
However, it is the right hand side of the highway that worries her. A line of lights is moving along the highway, Skynet tanks and armored vehicles, wheeled troop transports, and even Endoskeletons on foot. They are all marching or driving down the cleared side of the highway from the San Fernando valley toward downtown Los Angeles.
Cassie lowers the binoculars. “I think something’s up. I’ve never seen this many of them before.”
Emma whispers excitedly. “It’s like I said. They’re reinforcing their defenses, preparing for Connor’s arrival.”
Cassie turns to Emma, hands her the binoculars. “And you think we can get down there through all this?”
Emma glances fiercely at her friend. “Sure we can. We’re Resistance now.” She glances over at Cassie’s jacket, nodding in approval. “Now all we need is a name. How about…Coyote Force?”
Cassie chuckles. “I thought you were partial to Badger Company.” She taps the embroidered badger head on her jacket.
Emma shakes her head. “Naw. Coyote saved our butts back there.” She brings the binoculars up to her eyes.
Cassie scootches closer to her friend, frowning. “Fine. So what about those machines?”
Emma points to the highway. “We stay to the right of the highway, cut through the suburbs, keep our heads down. Then we’ll swing east when we get near downtown.” She passes the glasses back.
Cassie sweeps the destroyed suburbs with concern. “I don’t know, Emma, there are still an awful lot of lights down there.” She focuses on on of the roving lights, a tank making its way down Hollywood Boulevard, an aerial HK hovering nearby. “Shit, there are Endos down there.” She can just barely make out the glowing red eyes and the dull chrome gleam of the skeletal warriors roving down alleys and side streets, weapons at the ready.
Emma takes this in. “The night’s not getting any younger. We have to try.” The two rise from the side of the road and move in a crouching run down the side of the hill, at times running, at times sliding through the dust and dirt, down to the first row of burned-out houses at the foot of the hill. Hiding in the shadows of the crumbling walls, they wait, mentally noting the positions of the Skynet forces from their previous vantage point.
The clank and whine of a T-700 Terminator reaches their ears, marching down the abandoned residential street, its head turning back and forth as it scans the shells of houses. It approaches their position, is infra-red sensors active.
The woman crouch behind a row of overturned trashcans, waiting for it to pass. Suddenly there is a commotion and a family of raccoons races out of the trashcans, their reflective eyes flashing angrily in the night at the women. The Terminator turns at the noise, firing its weapon and frying one of the creatures as it tries to escape. The rest of the creatures scamper across the fire-damaged roof of one of the houses, which groans under their weight, a cracking sound coming from a carbonized support beam.
The machine continues scanning the area, noting a heat signature associated with the now abandoned raccoon nest and moving to investigate. The women crouch behind the trashcans, trapped between two closely-spaced houses.
Emma searches the ground for some sort of weapon, anything to defend themselves. She sees on the pavement a piece of brick and she palms it, looking around for anything else.
The two houses were once large, three storey structures, built in a time of unimaginable plenty. Now they are burned-out husks. She aims the brick at the support beam holding up the roof and throws. The brick hits the beam and the roof collapses in a cloud of ash and dust.
The Terminator swings around, its tracking momentarily confused by the dust cloud. In that moment the women make their escape, racing to the right around the other house and across the street. The Terminator emerges from the dust, scanning the area they crossed and sending a report to its command.
The women race down another side street, emerging onto Hollywood Boulevard. A mournful wind whispers through the desolation. Cassie pulls ahead.
The older woman stops and turns. “Come on, they know we’re here. We need to get off the road.” Emma nods, catching her breath, her head down, but she keeps going.
The women continue running down side streets and between burned-out buildings. They make a break across an open field, and Emma trips and falls. Cassie goes to help her up, and Emma curses. “My ankle. I think it’s twisted.” Cassie sees the thing that tripped her: a gravestone. She looks around, seeing the white teeth of gravestones stretching out in all directions. The lights of a Hunter Killer plane are moving in on their location, and there is no cover in sight. “Cass, just go. Leave me.”
Cassie grabs Emma’s arm and throws it around her shoulders. “Not an option, Em.” The two begin running across the cemetery, dodging gravestones. The whine of the aircraft grows louder behind them, its searchlight scanning the ground behind them. The women dodge between two broken mausoleums, resting a moment in the utter darkness. The searchlights scan all around them, persistent.
The women make for a line of low buildings to the south, going as fast as Emma can hobble. It is a group of warehouses, most of their roofs and walls broken or fallen into each other. One of them seems more or less intact, however, and this is the one they are making for, squeezing in between large sliding doors and into a dark cavernous space. Outside, the searchlight sweeps across the door and moves on. Gradually the whine fades into the noises of the night and the women can breathe again.
They move deeper into the warehouse and soon find themselves in a strange room, constructed of plywood, within the larger warehouse. The room has curved walls and is covered in dust, but it contains two plush couches facing each other and a large desk at the opposite side flanked by American flags and large bay windows overlooking a painted scene of trees and lawn.
“Let’s look at that ankle.” Cassie says, laying Emma on the couch and rolling up her pant leg. She touches the ankle and Emma winces. “I don’t think it’s broken.” Cassie says, feeling it. “But you shouldn’t put your full weight on it.” She begins pulling things out of her pack. “I can make a splint, that should be better than nothing.”
Emma stares around their surroundings. “What is this place?”
Cassie looks up, scanning the room. “This is an old set.” She marvels at the faded American flags, the large desk, the painted backdrop. “They used to make movies here. I saw quite a few back then, you know. You would have liked them. They had a lot of action, heroes saving the world…time travel…” She smiles sardonically. “…that sort of thing.”
Emma isn’t listening to Cassie’s stream of consciousness, instead asking the question that has been bothering her. “Is that why you came with me? Time travel?” She puts a hand out and turns Cassie’s face back toward hers as she tries to turn away. “Because it wasn’t for Connor. Don’t deny it.”
Cassie turns her head away regardless, beginning to speak. “I wouldn’t have abandoned you, Em…”
“I know. But you were going to try and convince me to go north. You were all set to go…”
Cassie begins binding Emma’s ankle, a smile on her lips. “Maybe it was time travel.”
Emma stares at the graying woman. “You’re joking.”
Cassie’s smile vanishes. “Do I look like I’m joking?” She casts a look around the set, the flimsy wooden surfaces covered in peeling paint. “You never saw one of those movies, Em. They could almost make you believe in it…the good ones, that is. You could almost believe that it was real…that a single person could change the world.”
Emma groans, lying back on the couch and Cassie continues dressing her wound. Her eyes flick across Emma’s emaciated form, taking in the sunken cheeks, the twisted limbs. Emma’s eyes are fixed on Cassie. “It’s hell, isn’t it?”
Cassie frowns. “What?”
“This. This world. The machines.” Emma adjusts her slight weight on the couch. “You watched these…magic pictures…ate Wonder Bread. Saw boy bands. At least I never had that. The machines are all I ever knew. But for you…it must be torture.”
Cassie is caught between laughing and crying upon hearing this wretched creature’s observation. She finally manages a weak smile. “I have you. That’s enough.”
Emma pushes Cassie’s hand away where it tries to grip her own. “But say you had a time machine.”
Cassie slices the bandage and tucks it into place around Emma’s ankle, not responding to Emma’s statement. The young woman continues. “Cass…if you could go back…if you could stop all this from happening…would you?”
She looks hesitantly at Cassie, who looks away. The graying woman stares into the blackness, shaking her head. “No.”
Emma closes her eyes, resting against the moth-eaten fabric of the couch as she notes the insincerity in Cassie’s voice. “I would.”
There is a sound of rending metal echoing through the warehouse. The women look up to see that the warehouse door has been forced wide, spotlights spilling into the space all around the set. They are shielded from the lights, but not for long.
Cassie hoists Emma from the couch. The women sneak out through the door on the other side of the room and through the next set, which is a podium set against a curtain displaying the seal of the United States of America. They race by the podium and the empty chairs set up facing it and through the next room.
A trio of Endoskeletons enters the oval office set, scanning the room and reading the residual heat signature from the couch, the bandage and a pair of scissors left behind. “Possible leg wound” flashes within the cranium of one of the machines and they continue through the room in pursuit of their wounded quarry.
Approaching California Airspace
The captain, a man with a greying beard and crows feet around the corners of his eyes, exits the cockpit and shuts the door behind him, marching down the hall to the cargo bay.
Tech-Com officers lounge in the seats, speaking across the aisle at each other and checking their weapons. He moves past them, approaching the corner where three forms sit, clustered together away from the others. Ian sits in the seat closest to the wall, keeping one hand on the collar of Max whom he seems to have adopted as his new best friend, and the other on a large plasma rifle. Talking to Ian is Kyle, who is instructing the boy on the use of this advanced weapon. The captain approaches. Kyle breaks off his instructions at the man’s approach and the man doffs his cap. “Connor’s requesting a copilot.”
Kyle grunts. “He has you.”
“Connor insisted I take a break.”
Kyle sighs. “Alright.” He looks at Max. “Take care of him for me, will you Max?” The dog whines amicably in response and Kyle strides off to the cockpit. The captain gives the boy a suspicious glance, and Ian quickly places the gun on the seat beside him as if it were a venomous snake.
The door of the cockpit opens and Kyle steps in, closing it behind him and sliding into the copilot’s seat. He places the headset on and adjusts it, reacquainting himself with the airplane’s controls. They are flying just above the clouds scudding past below them, the sky before them utterly dark and full of stars. He glances back at the sky to the east and sees a slight purpling.
“I guess it’s officially the 11th. Looks like dawn’s a few hours away.”
John says nothing, peering ahead into the blackness. Kyle taps the altimeter, puttering. He turns to the man. “You surprised me back there, John.”
John doesn’t look at the Sergeant. “Oh?”
“About ending the war. I know you, John, and I just can’t see it; the great John Connor, champion of peace. Don’t get me wrong, it’s the right thing to do…what a leader would do. But it doesn’t sound like you…or Sarah, for that matter. The real Sarah, I mean.”
The scarred man gives Kyle a look, the first since he came in. “What do you know about her?”
Kyle smiles to himself. “Well, what everyone knows about her. Mother of the Resistance…the legend. And the stories you told me.” The man seems taken by memories.
John leans back in his chair. “That photo of her I gave you…”
Kyle turns away. “…I’m sorry, John. I lost it…it got burned…in Chicago.”
John looks back at the sky. “Do you still remember what she looked like?”
Kyle’s expression turns serious. “Absolutely.”
John looks over, surprised at the vehemence of that statement despite himself. He nods to himself. “Good.”
They fly in silence a moment. Kyle gathers his thoughts, finally speaking over the sound of the plane. “I couldn’t help but notice your question in the meeting back there…the one about sending multiple people back in time to 1984. That wasn’t rhetorical.”
John raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Don’t play games with me, John. I think that somehow, you knew about this time machine from the beginning. That’s how you knew about Terminators, Judgment Day, how the war was going to go. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Would you have believed me, before today? Would anyone have followed me? No, I quickly learned to avoid the topic of time travel as a matter of reputational survival.” John shifts the plane and it goes into a slow bank, avoiding spotlights shining into the clouds from below. Kyle studies the face of John, the secrets behind his tired eyes.
John continues. “It was Sarah, Kyle. Sarah knew about the future. She told me everything she knew before she died.” He levels out the plane. “Let me tell you a story, Reese, and maybe you can guess the players. On July 11th, 2029, Skynet activates a time machine. It sends a T-800 model 101 back through time to 1984. It’s mission: to kill Sarah Connor and prevent the birth of John Connor, Skynet’s destroyer. But the Resistance finds this time machine and sends back a soldier of its own, to protect Sarah Connor and save the future.”
There is silence. Kyle stares ahead into the blackness, the sparkling stars. John continues. “That past…my past…cannot be changed. But there is one choice that I know I must make…but I don’t know if I can. How can I lose my best man?”
Kyle doesn’t know what to say. Finally he stumbles into some words. “Sir, Russ is a better shot…Jen can take apart a plasma rifle in ten seconds, Ben can…” John silences him with a look. “I don’t mean my best soldier, Reese.” He looks ahead once more, and Kyle assesses the meaning of these words.
“That’s why you gave me that photo of her, years ago. You already knew who you were going to choose.”
“Reese, you still have a choice in the matter. You can make your own fate.”
Kyle looks hard at John, trying to divine why he’s saying this. “Sir, if there’s any chance it could save the future…then it’s my duty to go.” There’s something beyond his words though, and John notices it now. There’s a desire, a need in Kyle now to go. Kyle’s voice is strained. “I volunteer.”
John sighs. “You have no idea what you’re agreeing to.”
“Sir, this mission…it’s a success.” Kyle’s statement is almost a question, inviting elaboration. John nods. “Yes. You save her. She told me once that she believed it was the last battle of the war, waged in 1984.”
“And…” Kyle looks unsure how to ask. “…do you know if I…that is…”
“Do you survive?” The mask is back over John’s eyes, the sadness unable to break through his scars. “No. I’m sorry.”
Kyle takes this in. “Frankly, sir, It doesn’t change my decision.”
“I know. I knew from the beginning that you loved her, somehow, from just the stories I told you of her. That you’d do anything to protect a woman you’d never even seen. That’s why I gave you the photo.” He reaches into his pocket and hands Kyle a folded piece of paper. “Here.”
Kyle takes the paper and opens it. “What is it?”
“A message…to Sarah. You’ll need to memorize it, if you go through.” John reaches over and taps the paper. “Nothing dead goes through, after all.”
Kyle reads the message, then rereads it. “The future isn’t set.” He folds the paper, puts it in his pocket. “Sir, with all due respect…do you really believe that? I mean, if you already knew all this was going to happen…then why…”
“Then why didn’t I stop it?” John looks away. “Why didn’t I try to change things?” He sighs. “Sarah tried. She fought like hell to prevent Judgment Day, and almost died because of it. But it never worked. Judgment Day happened anyway, despite everything. And now I’m here, telling her what she will need to hear…because that hope is the only thing that will give her the strength to fight…even if it means I end up…sacrificing…”
There is a faraway look in John’s eyes now, a sadness, and he doesn’t finish the thought. Kyle notices, and he looks away. It feels wrong, somehow, to intrude.
John speaks, finally. “Believe me, if I thought there was a better way to end this…I’d take it. But everything that’s ever happened to the world has only proven my mother wrong…and I’m tired, Reese. I’m tired of fighting with fate.”
Reese is lost in thought, staring up at the distant stars outside the window of Air Force One. Presently he comes back to himself. “The last battle of the war…so…if I do go…and fix time….”
John smiles. “…Then you will be the one who ends it…forever.”
Kyle looks away from the stars, looking inward. “Fritz may live to see that end…that’s a mercy.”
John turns away from Reese, saying nothing.
Los Angeles
Cassie stands alone on the second floor of a bombed-out apartment complex, scanning through a broken window casing at the tanks and humanoid shapes patrolling the dead streets, the flying machines hovering everywhere.
To her left is the 101 highway, the line of Skynet forces still moving from left to right down into the city proper. She can now see that they are making for a bright point in a high, electric blue wall stretching across the horizon to the east, encircling a massive facility complex squatting on a low hill. Between that fence and Cassie’s location is the blasted ruin of downtown, pieces of shredded skyscraper flung this way and that across the earth. Amidst these ruins stands one building that still stands, a low, lightless structure of crude boxes encircled by a high fence that lies abandoned in the center of town.
There is a low hooting sound and Cassie retreats from the window casing and makes her way down a cracked set of concrete stairs to the ground floor. Emma is keeping watch below out the back of the building with the binoculars. She hoots again, and Cassie joins her. Emma shifts her weight uncertainly. “The machines are getting closer. I think they’re tracking us.”
Cassie takes the binoculars and puts them into her pack. “They’ve almost got us surrounded.”
Emma gestures to the front of the building. “There’s one place we could go…where one of us knows the layout. We could have an advantage.”
Cassie hisses at her. “You can’t be serious.”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
Cassie glowers in the darkness. Emma starts moving. “It beats dying here, anyway.”
The women go together to the front of the house, looking left and right before crossing the street and ducking into a convenience store on the other side. A spotlight shines on the building they just exited, the clank of Endoskeletons moving into the building and following the rapidly dwindling heat trail. There are five of them now, and they immediately cross the street in pursuit of their quarry.
The women go from building to building, entering a decrepit pharmacy. They crawl over smashed counters and among chairs and barstools, making for the other side of the building. Cassie pulls Emma up and over another counter. The younger woman breathes heavily despite her youth, gasping words at the older woman. “There’s a tank on the left.” The spotlight shines into the glassless windows, announcing its presence.
“There’s one on the right as well.” Cassie is looking through the opposite window. “Duck!” She hisses, and the spotlights converge over their location. They are hemmed in on two sides, and the clank of Endoskeletons from behind heralds their doom.
“We need to make a break for it!” Emma hisses, eyeing the one place ahead of them where they can escape.
“Wer’re not going that way.” Cassie says. A moment later she is proven right as a spotlight from an aerial HK pierces the ground outside the building in front of them.
“We’re trapped!” Emma whispers, grabbing the pistol out of Cassie’s belt. “They won’t take me without a fight.” She aims the gun behind them at the glowing eyes just visible beyond the countertops and tables. Cassie pulls Emma’s arm back. “Don’t be a hero!” She whispers, and pulls Emma toward a dark place behind the counter. “We go down.”
There is a hole in the floor near the counter, and Emma has only a moment to wonder why it looks like it was dug by human hands before she’s being tossed bodily down into the darkness. She lands with a muddy squelch. Up above, the machines open fire, furniture and bits of masonry flying all around. Cassie screams and leaps down the hole behind Emma, drawing a wooden board over the hole as she does.
They are both in pitch darkness for a moment while Cassie fishes in her pack for a manual flashlight, giving it a few squeezes to power it up. The weak beam of light flashes on, illuminating a small, filthy hole in the ground descending several meters before hitting the side of a concrete pipe that has a hole smashed in the side.
“What is this?” Emma asks, fear in her voice.
“This was how I got out.” Cassie says, matter of fact. “Twenty years ago. The machines blocked the sewers, but a few of us made this tunnel and dug our way out. Come on.”
The women go through the broken concrete hole and into the sewer main. It is filled with dirt and the left side of the pipe is blocked with fallen rubble and debris, but the right side is still mostly clear. The women make their way down the pipe, splashing in the ankle deep water and filth.
At the tunnel opening there is a smashing sound and the rotted board falls in. An Endoskeleton descends, landing heavily in the splinters and mud and striding forward. It scans the pipe and begins trudging through the muck, its eyes scanning left and right for a human heat signature.
The women hear the sound of metal feet echoing in the tunnels and redouble their pace. The sewer branches left and right, but Cassie seems to know the way. She takes them through the maze of tunnels, Emma falling and stumbling behind her. Cassie hauls her friend up again and again as she retraces her steps from long ago.
The clanking gets louder and louder, seeming to come from all over. They round a corner and see two red eyes turn to them in the darkness. They dive for cover, into a small alcove beside the tunnel, and Emma turns around. There is another pair of eyes at the other side of the tunnel. The two machines begin to converge on their position.
Cassie is already climbing, finding metal rungs set in the sewer wall. Emma follows and soon she sees another hole smashed in the side of the vertical pipe. Cassie crawls through and begins to haul Emma up behind her. There is plasma fire in the tube and Emma screams in pain, her bad arm hit with a plasma bolt. Cassie drags her friend out of the line of fire and into another vertical section of hand-carved tunnel. She climbs out and reaches back.
With a final herculean effort, Cassie hauls her friend out of the tube and collapses back on the floor. Emma is bleeding and gasping on the hard concrete floor but Cassie can’t check on her. She is already in motion.
They have come up into a lightless room filled with metal crates. Cassie throws the lid off of one of the crates and sees that it is filled with metal bolts. Her flashlight scans the rest of the room and sees piles of similar boxes piled high. She begins climbing a pile of the crates beside the open tunnel entrance in the floor, scrambling to get on top of them.
“Cass, they’re coming!” Emma gasps out, lying on the floor but unable to move due to the pain.
“Em, get away from the hole!” Cassie shouts, placing her feet against the wall and her hands on one of the crates.
Emma scrambles back, leaving a trail of blood behind her. There is a grinding and then a crash as a stack of the crates topples down onto the hole, smashing the arm of an Endo as it struggles to rise through the opening. The arm is still holding a plasma rifle and the gun goes off, spraying the room with plasma bolts that hit the walls and ricochet off of the chrome-plated crates. Finally, the firing stops and there is a wrenching sound as the arm goes still.
There is silence in the room, broken only by the heaving gasps of Emma on the floor and Cassie lying atop the pile of crates. Blood drips down the side of one of the crates.
Emma looks up at the trail of blood and to its source. “Cass, you’re hit!” Cassie puts a hand to her side and pulls it away dark with blood. She stares down at the large trail of blood leading away from the hole and groans. “Em, your arm!” She tries to climb back down the pile of crates but ends up falling most of the way to the ground. She crawls to Emma and takes a look at the stump where the malformed limb once was.
Emma laughs, lightheaded. “It’s not like that one was doing much.”
Cassie doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead digging in her pack for gauze and wrapping. “Where are my scissors, dammit.” She asks, pulling out a knife instead and cutting the gauze. She wraps the shoulder, stuffing it with gauze. “That’s as good as I can do for now.”
Emma is still in shock, adrenaline pumping through her system. “Cass…you’re hit.” She points to the dark spot on Cassie’s side. Casie removes her jacket and shirt, inspecting the wound. It was a grazing hit, slicing a line across her torso but not hitting any internal organs. “It could be a lot worse.” She wraps a bandage around her torso to stop the bleeding and pulls her shirt back on. “But you need to see a doctor soon, or else you’ll bleed out.”
Cassie goes to the plasma rifle and takes it from the Endo. It goes dead in her hands. She wrenches the side of the gun open and begins fiddling with the mechanism. Emma laughs again. “John told us how to do that.”
Cassie has no response. The rifle powers on again in her hands. She checks the charge, then slings it over her shoulder and picks hoists up Emma.
The young woman protests. “Set me down and I’ll guard down here. I’m just gonna get you killed otherwise.”
Cassie doesn’t listen, instead talking about the facility. “Listen to me, Em, just keep listening to the sound of my voice. This was a storeroom, where they kept the raw materials. They had us building their machines, when there were still enough of us alive.”
They go up a set of stairs into a narrow place full of cells. Emma stumbles, clearly going into shock. They pass cell after cell, each one labeled with a number. Some of the cells still have skeletons in them. Cassie shudders as she passes the cells, but keeps going.
The young woman’s head is lolling and she collapses to the ground. Cassie crouches down beside her, tears flowing down her cheeks. “You can’t die here, Em. I have a promise to keep. Don’t do this to me, Em. Don’t make me break my promise. Don’t leave me here alone.”
Emma doesn’t answer. Cassie tries to lift her, managing to hoist her onto her back. She notices that Emma’s wound is already bleeding through the bandages onto her back. “Come on, Em. They had a medical center here, so we’ll just go find some clotting agents. Cassie moves off, the semi-conscious woman on her back, down the endless hall.
She lumbers past innumerable cells, the numbers blurring together past her exhausted eyes. Up a set of stairs, around a bend, down another hall. She emerges out onto open ground, a prison yard surrounded by a high chain link fence with barbed wire on the top. The front gates are smashed. There’s a long yard between her and the nearest building. She sets Emma down on the ground as gently as she can, whispering to her. “Okay, Em, I’m going to be gone a minute, but I’ll be right back. I promise.” Emma doesn’t respond, her unseeing eyes fluttering.
Cassie races for a two-storey building near the fence, racing inside and up to the second level. She turns a corner and sees that the rear wall has exploded outward. The room is gutted, with nothing on the shelves. She opens the remaining cabinets. “No, no, no!” She spins around, at a loss. She slides down onto the ground, panic setting in. The sky is inky dark, dawn still over an hour away.
“Hey, Cass, are you there?”
Cassie sits up, unsure if she’s dreaming.
“Cass, it’s me, Pete. I think we’re being followed. Is that you up there?”
The woman turns and looks down out of the building. There’s a figure waving up to her from out of the gloom, beyond the fence.
“Pete! Thank god! You changed your mind!”
“Yeah, there are a few of us down here. We’re sorry we left you.”
A female voice joins them. “What’s the play?”
“Hannah?”
“The one and only.”
Cassie turns and looks down at the group of figures in the shadows. “Listen, Pete, Em is hurt bad. She’s in the cell block. She needs your help, fast.”
“On it.” The group heads to the broken-down gate. Another voice rises out of the gloom. “Cass, just stay there. We’ll be up with you in a minute.” Cassie frowns.
“Nils?”
“Yeah.”
Cassie’s eyes go wide, her mouth opening in horror. She pulls the gun from behind her back and checks the charge again, moving out of the room and down the stairs.
The figure identifying as Pete moves through the gate, headed for the still form of Emma. Cassie turns the corner, pointing her gun at him. “Where’s your bag of tools, Pete?” The man, his face still shrouded in shadow, turns to her. “I lost it.”
“Then how are you going to treat Em?” Cassie readies her weapon, a tear in her eye. “What are you going to do?”
The man takes off at a run, making for Emma. Cassie opens fire, lighting up his chest and spinning him around. She swings the gun around, tracking the other two figures who have taken guns from within their coats and begin firing at Cassie, advancing on her position.
The whine of a Hunter Killer drone fills the air and the spotlight comes over the compound. Several tanks appear from outside the gate, the area lit up like day. Cassie continues to fire, the charge of her gun getting lower and lower. One of the cloaked figures goes down in a shower of sparks, but the blast from an HK destroys the top of the building that Cassie is sheltering behind, throwing her across the ground. She stands, surrounded by advancing machines, firing wildly in all directions. She growls out a few last words. “Let’s end it, then. Fucking machines!”
Suddenly there is another noise. A narrow shape zips across the sky far above, flame and smoke trailing behind. It passes over the compound and detonates, disintegrating in a concussive shockwave. What comes out of it isn’t an explosion but a surge of energy. The shockwave of energy hits the ground and everything rattles, then is silent.
The lights of the tanks and the Hunter Killer have been cut off, and the drone’s engines wind down, the flying machine falling out of the sky and smashing into the medical center. Everything with an electrical pulse is dead, even Cassie’s gun.
Lights appear in the sky, above the clouds, descending through them and breaking through. Dozens of aircraft, of both human and Skynet design, descend toward the ground, searchlights tracking anything that may still be active and gunning it down where it stands. Cassie looks up in wonder as a huge Skynet plane, the largest of the group, lands in the open place outside of the compound prison yard. Doors open in the aircrafts and vehicles descend from ramps, surrounding the area in a rising sea of military hardware, soldiers leaping from ramps and rushing to form a perimeter. Cassie raises her hands in shock and soldiers come running to apprehend her, weapons raised and speaking orders into headsets.