Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines

C.20

Beneath the protection of a canopy of trees Connor stared at the empty, mostly cloudless sky.

There had been police activity all morning and into the afternoon. But it was coming up on two-thirty and he hadn't seen a spotter plane or helicopter in at least forty-five minutes.

Kate was still in a state of semishock. Other than drinking from the cool mountain stream, she hadn't spoken or moved to try to escape. Nothing.

The T-X was still out there, coming after them. If being crushed beneath a crane and fire truck hadn't destroyed her, then being struck by a semi truck had probably not even dented her armor.

Terminator had done something to the hearse's engine and he slammed the hood as Connor came over.

"It's been clear for almost an hour."

Terminator didn't bother looking up at the sky. "I am unable to fix this vehicle."

"Will it run?" Conner asked.

"Yes. But not long."

"Then let's find something eke and get as far away as we can," Connor said.

They got back into the hearse and headed farther up into the mountains where within a couple of miles they passed twenty or twenty-five trout fishermen working the stream that was just off the road there. A registration table was set up under a bright red canopy.' The sign flapping in the light breeze read

FIFTH ANNUAL ANGELES FOREST TROUT FEST.

No one noticed the heavily damaged hearse as it passed, and minutes later they came across an RV campground filled with campers, but devoid of people. The RVs belonged to the fishermen in the trout contest downstream.

Terminator pulled alongside a midsized Winnebago that appeared to be in good condition, and shut off the hearse's engine. The motor bucked and dieseled for a few seconds and then died.

He got out, went over to the Winnebago, and yanked open its locked door.

Connor jumped out of the hearse. "Come on," he said to Kate. "We have to keep moving."

Terminator came back, scooped up an armful of weapons, and took them to the RV. Connor grabbed the AK-47 and a bag of magazines and brought them over to the Winnebago.

"He was killed because of me," Kate said from the passenger seat. She made no move to get out

Connor gathered four canvas satchels of C-4 explosive and acid fuses. He stopped and looked at her. He could feel her pain. He knew what it was like to lose someone who was very close.

He shoved a 9mm Beretta pistol into his belt, first making sure that its magazine was loaded and the safety catch was engaged.

"I know it won't help, but sometimes things happen that we just can't change." He shook his head. He didn't know what to say to her. He didn't have words to make a difference. "It's not your fault."

Kate looked at him without moving, without saying a word.

Connor took the plastic explosives over to the RV and placed them inside. Terminator was there.

"You're sure about this?" Connor asked him, keeping his voice low enough so that Kate couldn't hear him. "About her and me, I mean."

"I do not experience uncertainty," Terminator replied.

Connor laughed. "Must be nice to be you."

Terminator studied him for a moment. "Your confusion is not rational. She is a healthy female of breeding age."

"I think there's more to it than that," Connor said, feeling a little warmth at the base of his neck.

"My database does not encompass the dynamics of human pair bonding," Terminator said. He went back to the hearse for more weapons. Connor followed him.

"This Terminatrix, how many others does she have on her hit list?"

"Twenty-two," Terminator replied, gathering the belted ammunition for the machine gun. "Anderson, Elizabeth. Anderson, William. Barrera, Jose. Brewster, Robert—"

Kate sat bolt upright, her eyes wide. "My father?" she demanded.

Terminator turned his optical sensors to her, noting her pupil dilation, the tightening at the corners of her mouth, and her increased heart and respiration rates. But there was no need to lie by omission at this time. "Having failed to acquire its primary target, the T-X will resume its default program."

Kate leaped out of the hearse. It looked as if she was getting ready to spring at Terminator or at Connor. She just hadn't made up her mind. "She's going to kill my father too?"

"There is a high probability."

"No," Kate shrieked. "No!"

This was something new, and it wasn't making sense to Connor. "Who is he? What does he do?"

"He's in the Air Force," Kate snapped. "Weapons design. Secret stuff." She pushed her hair off her forehead. "I don't know exactly—"

Terminator started back to the Winnebago with another load of weapons. He stopped. "General Robert Brewster is program director at CRS — Cyber Research Systems — Autonomous Weapons Division."

Suddenly it began to make sense to Connor. "Autonomous Weapons — Skynet. You're talking about Skynet, aren't you?"

"Skynet is one of the digital defense systems developed under Brewster's supervision."

"Oh, God," Connor said. Everything was crystal clear

now. Chillingly clear. "It all makes sense now." He shook his head in amazement. "If you hadn't come back when I was a kid, if everything hadn't changed, she and I—" He glanced at Kate. "She and I, we would've gotten together then. I would have met her father a long time ago, and—" There was even more. It was unrolling like a gigantic map in his mind's eye. "Do you see? This was always supposed to happen."

Kate shook her head in confusion. It was clear she had no idea what he was talking about. "I don't understand."

"Your father, this is all about your father," Connor told her excitedly. "He's the key! He always was — not Cyberdyne. Don't you see? We couldn't stop them from creating the technology. That part was inevitable, but we can stop it from being used. Your father's the one who can shut Skynet down. He's the only one who ever could." His jaw tightened. He turned to Terminator. We have to get to him before the T-X does."

"Negative," Terminator said. "I cannot jeopardize my mission." He turned and went back to the Winnebago with his load of weapons.

"This is your mission!" Connor shouted after him. "To save people."

Terminator turned. "My mission is to ensure the survival of John Connor and Katherine Brewster."

"I'm giving you an order," Connor said with a sharp edge in his voice.

"I am not programmed to follow your orders," Terminator replied indifferently. He put the weapons into the

RV. "After the nuclear war you will both lead."

"Nuclear war?" Kate shouted. This was way over the top for her, even after everything else she had been put through this day.

"There doesn't have to be a war," Connor insisted.

Terminator went back to the hearse for another load. Connor grabbed his arm to pull him back, but it was like trying to stop a moving locomotive.

"We can stop it," Connor told him.

"There is insufficient time. The first launch sequences will be initiated at 6:18 p.m."

Connor was caught flat-footed. "Today?" he blurted.

"Affirmative," Terminator said.

Connor was more deeply shocked than he'd ever been in his life; even more unsure of what he was supposed to do than he had been the first time Terminator had come for him and his mother.

"John, what is he saying?" Kate asked.

"Judgment Day," he told her, but he didn't take his eyes off Terminator. "The end of the world. It's today. Three hours from now."

"Two hours and fifty-three minutes," Terminator said precisely. "We must continue south into Mexico to escape the primary blast zones."

"We have to get to her dad."

"The Mojave area sustains significant nuclear fallout. You will not survive."

"You mean we just run and hide in a hole somewhere while the bombs fall?"

Terminator looked Connor in the eye. "It is your destiny." He said it as if there were no other possibility.

But there were other possibilities. Connor looked away toward the distant desert. If he and Kate were supposed to become the leaders of the human resistance in some future time, why couldn't they begin right now? Here and now by doing something — one thing — to try to stop Judgment Day. Nothing was inevitable. His mother had drummed into his head fate was what we made it.

He glanced at Kate, then back at Terminator, and made his decision.

He pulled the pistol from his belt, switched off the safety, and pressed the muzzle to his own temple.

"Fuck my destiny," he said with determination.

Terminator moved toward him, but Connor held up a warning finger, and he stopped.

"John…?" Kate asked uncertainly.

"You cannot self-terminate," Terminator said.

"No, you can't," Connor told him. "I can do whatever the hell I want. I'm a human being, not a goddamn robot".

"Cybernetic organism," Terminator automatically corrected.

"Whatever," Connor said. He girded himself. "Either we go to her father, get him to shut down Skynet, and stop this shit from ever happening, or so much for the great John Connor."

He pressed the muzzle of the gun a little harder against his temple. He would do it if he had to.

"Your future, my destiny—" Connor's jaw tightened in anger. "I don't want any part of it. I never did."

Terminator's sensors did a complete body scan of Connor. "Based on your pupil dilation, skin temperature, and motor functions, I calculate an eighty-three percent probability that you will not pull the trigger."

Kate took a step toward Terminator. "Please, do what he says." She glanced at Connor, then back. "You have to save my father."

Terminator watched the subtle interplay between Kate and John. He nodded, the gesture very human. He came to a decision in the same way most humans came to decisions, by weighing all the options and possible outcomes.

"We can reach CRS in approximately one hour, depending on traffic conditions."

He turned without another word or gesture, placed the last of the weapons and loads into the Winnebago, and then got behind the wheel, ripped the ignition set out of the steering column, and started the engine.

For a long time Connor stood very still, the pistol still held to his head. He had won. But at what cost?

He could hear the rippling water of the trout stream as it splashed over the rocks. He could hear the light breeze rustling the leaves. He could smell grass and sweet pine and perhaps even the dry, sandalwood odors of the distant desert.

Slowly he lowered the pistol. Kate stared at him, an unreadable expression in her eyes. He smiled at her.

They had gotten through another crisis.

There were more to come.