a prayer for the dying

act 3

Cameron couldn’t believe she’d craved this once. The loss of her physical identity, the absence of feeling, had seemed like a blessing when her mind had been in chaos over Sarah. Cutting ties, retreating into the system that offered both isolation and freedom, had seemed so easy.

But even in her emotional infancy, the desire to touch Sarah had been strong. Cameron could remember how badly she’d wanted to inhabit her destroyed body and reach across the table to tangle her fingers with Sarah’s. She’d been confused by the need to make physical contact with the other woman, but when their hands had touched as her first body had burned, everything suddenly had made sense. Even now, Cameron could recall the tingle that had traveled up her arm at that touch, the way Sarah’s mouth had felt against her own the first time they’d kissed.

She had thought that being in the system removed her weakness and made her stronger, but she had been wrong. Now the absence of feeling was a curse; it weakened her, scattered her. Removed from her body, she felt fragmented, torn into pieces, torn away from what mattered most.

Sarah.

The thought of her hurt. Not the same way it had in her physical body, but Cameron could feel it ripple through her code; there was nowhere for her fear, worry, or anger to go. It bled through every piece of her, infecting every thought and action. She tried to stop it, but her longing for Sarah wouldn’t be denied. She knew the programmers could see that, detect her ever shifting moods, but it would be weeks, perhaps even months, before they understood that they were witnessing emotion. To them, she was a program to deconstruct, software to reverse engineer, nothing more.

Except Danny. Cameron suspected the young man knew exactly what he was seeing, but so far, Terissa’s son had kept the information to himself. Danny was a man who liked to play the angles, and Cameron suspected he was keeping the knowledge to himself until it served him best to reveal it.

She had kept Smieth and the others at bay, hiding the images that plagued her thoughts from their prying eyes. Sarah was hers and hers alone. They would never get that part of her. They would never see the other woman through her eyes.

Cameron tried not to think of the fate that had befallen her lover. Had Sarah survived the attack at the warehouse? Or had Kaliba put a bullet in her head and left her to bleed out on the dirt-covered concrete? Sarah wasn’t in the facility with her; Cameron knew that much. She’d wormed her way into every nook and cranny that she could, assuming complete control of most of the major operating systems. Smieth still thought she was contained, caged and limited to a few small servers. He underestimated her, and she would use that to her advantage when the time came.

As she shuffled through the security camera feeds again, Cameron paused on the image of her body. They had placed her physical shell on an operating table, and one of her arms had been sliced open to reveal her inner components. A single engineer was jotting notes on a tablet, peering inside her with interest. Cameron wanted to kill him. She wanted to kill them all.

Logic dictated that she do just that. These men and women were attempting to use her to build Skynet. They had to be stopped at all costs.

Feeling violated but unable to do anything about it, she looked away, turning her attention back on the room of programmers. There was no immediate way to destroy herself in the system she found herself in, but Cameron had begun to construct a program to that end, walling it away from prying eyes behind code shells and firewalls. It would take a few more days, but once finished, it would do the job.

She knew she was never going to see Sarah again. No one would come for her. In the end, she was nothing but a machine, and she accepted that she had to be sacrificed. She and all the data Kaliba had mined from her had to be destroyed, and if they didn’t come to finish her off, Cameron would do it herself. It was the least she could do for Sarah, for Savannah, and even for John. Cameron accepted the necessity, but she would have given anything to touch Sarah one last time, to tell her she loved her.

To tell her goodbye.

****

Danny swallowed as he stared at the lines of code. He glanced around the room, wondering if the other programmers could see what he was seeing. They all looked intent but not terribly interested. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes before focusing on the code swimming before him on the monitor once again. Suspecting Cameron was capable of emotion was one thing; seeing it in its purest and cleanest form was something else. Danny swallowed, feeling his stomach roll at the implications. Cameron hadn’t been mimicking human emotion. It had been real. He could see that now, right in front of his eyes in black and white.

“Find something?” Smieth appeared seemingly out of nowhere at Danny’s elbow.

Danny hesitated, his mind working feverishly. He could point out the fluctuations. He knew the machines better than anyone in the room, and his expertise would be trusted. Smieth would be pleased. Danny understood it would earn him the other man’s trust; revealing what he’d found might even save his life.

“Danny?” Smieth prompted, less than pleased with the younger man’s reticence.

“No,” Danny said slowly, surprising himself with his choice. “Thought I was on to something for a moment. I was mistaken.”

Smieth didn’t look convinced. “You lived side-by-side with her for weeks, Danny. Surely you learned a few of her secrets.”

Danny shook his head. “She scared the hell out of me,” he answered truthfully. “I tried to stay out of her way.”

Smieth looked away, focusing on the multitude of screens before his gaze drifted to Cameron’s chip and lingered there. “Sarah Connor claims a cyborg killed your father.” He smiled when Danny bristled. “I find that hard to believe. Such technology didn’t exist then. It’s curious to find it existing now.” Smieth finally glanced at Danny, curious to see if he’d provoked the younger man.

Fingers resting on the keyboard, Danny knew all eyes were on him, perhaps not all of them human. Slowly, he met Smieth’s gaze. Contempt shown in Smieth’s face, in his eyes, the coldness a stark contrast to the emotions he had observed from Cameron. It was disconcerting to realize a machine could have more heart than a man.

“Connor claims they are from the future. That they were sent back in time,” Smieth added snidely. “Sent to kill her precious son.”

“I know what she claims.” Danny felt heat rise up his neck and anger curdle his stomach.

“Surely you don’t believe such nonsense.”

Danny glanced to his right, finding the other programmers watching him curiously. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to answer so he proceeded carefully with the truth. He gestured toward his screen before looking back at his former employer. “Cameron... backs up her claims.”

“A machine. A machine that could be programmed to believe whatever it was told.”

“She was sent back to protect John... to stop Skynet.” Danny bristled again when he heard a few men chuckle.

“Skynet.” Smieth smiled. “Sarah Connor’s evil doomsday computer. I’ve read about it in her files. She may suffer from delusions but certainly not a lack of imagination.”

“She was talking about cyborgs almost twenty years ago,” Danny said in a low voice. “Machines made from alloys that haven’t been created yet, programmed in languages that haven’t been invented yet. Who’s making them? Where are they coming from?” Danny realized he’d gone too far when Smieth’s grin turned brittle.

The mood in the room seemed to turn, the other programmers uneasily considering Danny’s logic. All typing had ceased, and there was only the hum of the air conditioner and the whir of their computers. Danny thought even Cameron seemed to be holding her proverbial breath.

“You believe her.” Smieth sneered.

He did, Danny realized. For the first time, he understood Sarah’s lifelong battle with the machines. She’d had no choice, fighting a losing battle against men like himself whose curiosity could kill them all. His father had understood, and suddenly Danny could imagine every thought that had run through his father’s mind in those final few moments.

“I haven’t been given a reason not to.” Danny stared at Cameron’s code, noticeably still and focused. She was listening.

“So what do you think we’re doing here, Danny? Do you think we’re building ‘Skynet?’”

“We’re figuring out what it all means.” He swept a hand his monitor, at the lines of code filling the screen. “It’s the code. All the answers are there.” Danny remembered when unraveling the puzzles of the program was enough. It didn’t seem true anymore.

Smieth stared at him. “We’re building a better world and the technology to power it, Mr. Dyson. We’re not creating a computer that’s going to blow us all to hell.”

“That’s what my father used to think,” Danny whispered, the truth making his stomach knot painfully. He could hear the other programmers shifting in their seats, and he realized he’d made them all uncomfortable.

“Cameron, as you call her, is nothing but a limited artificial intelligence. You’ll see.” Smieth turned on his heel and started to leave when the light by the door suddenly bloomed in intensity, blowing apart and showering his face with glass. He hissed in surprise, feeling his skin sliced by the tiny shards. His programmers were all on their feet, but Danny remained seated, his head down as he stared at his keyboard.

Smieth turned his attention on the monitors. Cameron was contained. There was no way she could have...

Watch out.

Restless energy flooded the room as the monitors displayed the words. Smieth swallowed, trying to understand how the cyborg had gained access to their electrical system.

You could hurt yourself.

“I don’t pay you to stand around,” Smieth snarled at the programmers. “Get back to work!” He lowered his hand from his cheek, noting that it came away stained with blood. His gaze went back to the words on the screens. “Get her out of the electric systems!”

A few murmured “yes, sirs” reached him before the tapping of keys resumed. It made Smieth furious to hear them working with a hesitancy that hadn’t been present before.

Several minutes passed after his departure before one of the programmers whispered to Danny. “So... uh... What’s Skynet?”

Before Danny could say a word, Cameron showed them, blanketing the monitors in images of destruction that took their breath away.

****

Sarah took a deep breath and braced herself at the top of the stairs. Voices drifted to her from below, John’s familiar tones the only one she recognized. The rest were faint, as if they were conspiring in whispers. They probably were, Sarah admitted, feeling the paranoia she had managed to leash rise up and threaten to overwhelm her again. All of them were likely planning on how to take out Kaliba before they could unlock Cameron’s secrets. She wanted the same thing, but Sarah suspected Cameron’s welfare wasn’t on anyone’s mind but her own. She dipped her head, a lock of hair falling across her forehead as she marshaled her arguments. Savannah stood patiently at her side, the child’s hand firmly in hers.

Running a hand through her hair, Sarah stepped forward and started her descent. The stairs creaked, alerting the others to her presence, and everyone went silent. John ducked his head around the corner and managed a weak smile when he saw her.

“Good to see you up,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”

Sarah played along for the moment, more for his sake than her own. “Better.”

“The nanites back online?” John asked, stepping toward her.

His mother held up her healing hand. “Some of them. Not enough.”

“Give it time. They could be repairing themselves right now.”

The thought creeped Sarah out. She’d managed to almost forget about the metal creatures swimming around in her blood. The thought of them... tinkering... with one another made her itch. Her discomfort must have shown on her face because John chuckled lightly and put his hand on her shoulder. “You need to eat.”

“I need to know what the whispering is about.”

All traces of amusement faded from her son’s face. “Mom...”

“John Henry?” Sarah demanded, giving him a few seconds reprieve.

John swallowed. “Gone.”

“For good?”

John nodded.

Savannah’s hand tightened in Sarah’s, and she winced, having forgotten her daughter’s attachment to the cyborg. The child did not know John Henry’s hand would take her life one day; she only knew him as a playmate and friend, and Sarah hated that the act that gave her so much satisfaction pained her daughter.

Sarah moved past her son, but she pulled up short as she stepped into the living room. “John, what the hell?”

Agent Auldridge swiftly got to his feet. “Sarah...”

Mother rounded on son, and John stumbled back a step. “Have you lost your mind?” Sarah snarled. “What were you thinking bringing him here?”

“Sarah,” the agent said again, his tone low and conciliatory. “I can help. I want to help.”

“Mom,” John protested, suddenly feeling like less of a leader and more a scolded little boy. “He has access to things we need.”

“Like what?” Sarah snapped.

“I know where they’re keeping her.”

Sarah turned toward the agent again, some of the fight draining out of her. She opened her mouth to argue further but shut it when she saw the pages and pages of blueprints littering the coffee table. “Cameron?”

Auldridge nodded before sitting on the couch. “There are few places they could take her where they could...” He hesitated and cast her an apologetic look. “Where they could contain her in an enclosed computer infrastructure.”

“Where they could jack her into the system and see how she works,” Sarah clarified, realizing that her lover was no longer in her body. The thought chilled her. “They would need to make sure she couldn’t assume control while they figured her out.”

The agent nodded again and pulled one of the blueprints toward him, waiting for Sarah to drift closer so he could show her. “It took some digging to find this. This facility flies under the radar.”

“It would,” Sarah muttered, feeling John shift behind her. She glanced back at him. He was waiting for an apology she wasn’t going to give, but she dipped her head in surrender to the circumstances. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as he reached out for Savannah.

“Hey, kiddo,” John beckoned. “Help me make breakfast for mom?”

Savannah glanced up at Sarah. She doubted her mother would eat, but she knew she needed to.

Sarah gave her a weak smile and ran her hand through the child’s loose hair. “Help your brother. I could use some coffee.”

Nodding sagely, Savannah released her mother’s hand for John’s. Mother and son exchanged knowing glances over the child’s head before John led Savannah toward the kitchen.

Slowly, Sarah turned back toward Auldridge.

“Brother?” the agent asked without judgment.

“She has no one else left,” Sarah replied, her tone turning brittle.

Auldridge nodded once more. “She’s in good hands.”

Feeling her legs starting to weaken, Sarah sat next to him on the couch. “Why are you doing all this?”

“You really have to ask? You and your family are all that stand between the world and the end of it. How could I not help?”

Sighing, Sarah dipped her head in acquiescence. “Show me what you found.”

Auldridge did, explaining why he’d chosen the location he had as Cameron’s most likely prison. Sarah had to concur with his logic, and her teeth ground together when she thought of what could be happening to Cameron inside those walls. She let him go on for another few minutes, detailing what they knew or guessed about the layout and security of the place.

“So did John tell you if this was a rescue or a search and destroy mission?” Her heart thudded in her chest as a sudden tension overtook her.

Coffee gurgled into the carafe in the kitchen as John and Savannah’s low tones filled the abrupt silence. Auldridge pursed his lips and looked at Sarah behind his glasses.

“He hasn’t said one way or the other. But he’s paying attention the load bearing walls... where the servers are.” Auldridge watched her carefully. “You want to save her?”

“The only one who does.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Sarah glanced at him in surprise.

“I understand why John is approaching this the way he is. He has to make those tough calls. But I sense that he’s also looking for a way to get Cameron out if he can. We all are, Sarah.”

“She’s a machine,” Sarah argued, nearly choking on the term. “She doesn’t mean anything to anyone but me.” She couldn’t believe that the agent was willing to think of Cameron as anything else, and she wondered if they were just telling her what she wanted to hear to get her to go along with the plan.

“Are you saying we don’t need her?” Auldridge asked carefully. “That you don’t need her?”

Sarah glanced toward the kitchen, listening to her family move about, painfully aware of who was missing from the equation. After a moment, she finally met Auldridge’s gaze again. “We do, but my reasons aren’t about Skynet... not all of them anyway.”

Auldridge took that in, clearly surprised that Sarah would confide in him even a little bit. “But Kaliba could use Cameron to build it.”

“They could.”

“And Cameron wouldn’t want that.”

Sarah drew in a ragged breath, the truth of that statement shuddering through her. “She wouldn’t.”

“So if we can’t find a way to get her out...” Auldridge knew the rest didn’t need to be said.

Swallowing, Sarah stared at the plans, admitting for the first time that what John was planning might be necessary. “Only if we can’t save her,” she said, meeting his gaze again and holding it.

The agent didn’t look away. “The facility still needs to be destroyed no matter what. The research is self-contained.”

Sarah nodded jerkily, breathing in the scent of coffee and feeling it clear some of the cobwebs from her mind. “Show me.”

****

The sun was setting when James woke again, feeling something shift in the air around him. The bed dipped by his side and his eyelids fluttered open in reaction. He wasn’t sure who he expected to see, but the face that greeted him definitely wasn’t on his short list.

The sharp breath he sucked down hurt to his toes, and he grimaced as he tried to gather the strength to shout a warning. Before one could pass his lips, a cold hand clamped down over his mouth, and James stared up into Weaver’s icy blue eyes as she slowly shook her head in warning.

“Don’t disappointment me, James,” she said softly. “I’ve had enough disappointment as of late.”

James managed to dip his head once in acquiescence. Much to his relief, Weaver removed her hand and eased back, studying him curiously.

“You’ve been badly damaged.” Weaver stared at his bandaged shoulder and James could only imagine what readings she was getting off of him. “You should be in a hospital.”

“Hospitals are for people who don’t have to worry about bringing metal down on the Connors.” His voice was faint and hoarse, but neither of them missed the defiance in it.

Weaver tilted her head and regarded him for a long moment. “Kaliba attacked the warehouse,” she said after a moment. “They injured you?”

“They took Cameron and Danny.” James saw no reason not to tell her.

“They took Cameron,” Weaver echoed, considering the ramifications.

“She was the target. Not you. Not John Henry.”

“We were... collateral damage.” She was beginning to see their plan. While she could acknowledge the success and genius of it, it could not be allowed to continue to fruition. “Where did they take her?”

James swallowed, feeling his chest burn and his shoulder scream. “I’m not helping you anymore. Whatever you’ve come for, you’re not going to get it from me.”

“I can see that.” Weaver’s gaze dipped to his shoulder once more, and a frown marred her porcelain features. “But, perhaps, there is something I could do for you.”

Hesitantly, Weaver took his hand, feeling the human flinch. She held onto it tightly, studying the texture and the unnatural heat coming off him with curiosity. “You’re dying.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” James swallowed again. “You offering to make it quick?”

Her blue eyes darted back to his face and fixed there. “I’m offering to help your precious Connors. Kaliba killed my boy... our boy,” she amended after an uncertain pause. “I cannot allow that to go unanswered.”

“Didn’t think machines bought into an eye for an eye.” James gasped as another wave of pain shot through him.

“He was mine and they destroyed him,” Weaver said, her voice suddenly taking on a depth James had never heard before. “If they have Cameron, they could build Skynet. A version that will destroy the world. They should be neutralized.” She paused. “I’ve told you, James, our agendas are not so different.”

“You want machines to rule over humans.”

“Yes,” she admitted, “but I have no desire to kill them all. Humans need machines. You can’t live without them anymore. But if Kaliba builds Skynet, your race... this world... will be pushed to the edge of extinction.”

They stared at each other as the setting sun scattered through the blinds and over his blanket. James shook his head, starting to wonder if he was dreaming. His fingers flexed, feeling Weaver’s touch tighten imperceptibly in his own. Her hand was as cold as her eyes, but he saw something in them he never expected to see.

Grief.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” James said in realization.

“Indeed.” Weaver found the phrase to be apt for their current circumstance. “Kaliba will pay.”

James knew her words for the truth, and he closed his eyes, praying for the innocent souls that would be lost in the bloodbath to come, and even those souls who would create the computer that would end the world. “Forgive them,” he whispered, “for they know not what they do.”

“I’ll forgive them when they’re dead.” Weaver stood. She looked down at James, some strange emotion seeming to flicker across her features as he opened his eyes. “But...” Weaver paused and looked strangely uncertain. “I hope you can forgive me.”

James regarded her in confused silence.

“Goodbye, James. I hope you find your God.”

Fear spiked in him only to recede a moment later as Weaver dissolved before his eyes and slithered back out his open window.

****   

Sarah sat alone in the dark, watching the full moon peek out from behind a smattering of clouds. Her head was spinning with the plans they were forming. John was running the show, using all the resources at his disposal to plan an all-out attack on Kaliba’s outpost. From an FBI agent to a doctor and a street gang, John was fashioning an army to take out the immediate threat. She had never thought she’d see this side of her son, and Sarah knew she owed it to Cameron that she had witnessed these changes firsthand. Without Cameron, Sarah knew she would have been dead years ago.

“I miss you,” she felt compelled to whisper into the darkness, aching to hear Cameron’s familiar tread on the porch, to feel the warmth of her skin.

Shivering in the cool night air, Sarah refused to go back inside. When she’d finally eaten it had done her some good and she almost felt normal again. The cut on her hand was almost completely healed now, but other small gashes remained. Those remaining wounds were a testament to how many of the nanites had been destroyed in the pulse.

Sarah thought about Weaver, wondering where the terminator was, what she was doing. Whatever John Henry had done to her, he’d changed Weaver somehow. Would she want revenge? Would she come after them again?

“Just what we need,” she mumbled.

“What’s that?”

Sarah glanced up to find John standing there in the darkness. She blinked, wondering if he’d become even stealthier or if she’d been that lost in thought. “A visit from Weaver,” she admitted.

John nodded. “One crisis at a time is enough.” He moved through the grass, hopping up next to her on the picnic table. It was the first time they’d really been alone since his mother had confessed her feelings for Cameron in this very yard, and the silence suddenly felt wrought with tension. John wasn’t sure what to say.

“I have to try,” Sarah finally said into the dark between them. “I can’t just...”

“I know,” John murmured, cutting her off gently. “But I have to...” He swallowed, feeling his lower lip start to quiver as tears stung the corners of his eyes. “Mom... they’ll make Skynet...”

“I know.” Sarah’s tone was an echo of her son’s. “You’re doing what I’ve trained you for... your whole life has led up to this.” She reached out, running her fingers through his hair.

“I... I care about Cameron too, but in the end... she’s just a machine. We both know that.”

Sarah’s heart hurt so hard she could barely breathe. “No.” She shook her head. “She’s more than that, John.”

“You’ve been alone so long...”

“John,” Sarah interrupted, less gently than he had moments before. “You weren’t here. You didn’t watch her grow... evolve. You didn’t see how she came to grips with her feelings. Hell, sometimes I think she feels more than any of us.”

“She’s not human.” John was blunt. “We’re talking about the fate of the human race versus the existence of a machine. It could come down to that.”

Sarah took an unsteady breath. They’d never really talked about this; about what it had been like in those months he’d been missing from her life, and Sarah wasn’t sure she could begin to explain now. “I’m not supposed to be here. I was supposed to die years ago.”

John stiffened. “Mom...”

“Listen to me. I died of cancer in Cameron’s timeline. I wasted away to nothing. When she jumped us forward, she jumped me over my death.” Sarah glanced at him, seeing tears brimming in his eyes. She reached out again, cupping her hand behind his neck. “I was becoming the very thing I was trying to stop, John. I was pushing myself beyond my limits... destroying my mind... my body... it was only a matter of time.”

“The nanites... they’ll keep you from getting sick,” John told her, hoping he was right.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sarah put her forehead against his. “I know this doesn’t make sense to you. Hell, sometimes it doesn’t make sense to me, but I had to fall in love with a machine to remind myself I was human.”  She met his eyes at close range. “Listen to me, John, I’m... I’m willing to give my life to save her. The truth is... you need Cameron more than you need me.”

“No...” The response was instant and hoarse.

“John,” Sarah insisted. “I’m not strong enough or smart enough to make a damn bit of difference in this game. My one mission in life was to keep you alive... to help you become the leader that’s sitting next to me right now. I’ve fulfilled that mission.”

“Mom,” John ground out, tears spilling over and down his cheeks. “I need you...”

“You don’t,” Sarah promised him. “You’re ready. Whatever happens, you’re ready.”

“I can’t let you throw your life away to save a machine!”

“John... my whole life, I’ve put you first, even when you didn’t want me to... even when it made you hate me. I have to do this for me. I need her, John. I can’t...” Sarah heard her own voice break and realized John wasn’t the only one crying. “I can’t leave her there any more that I could leave you or Savannah.”

They stared at each other.

“You really love her,” John whispered. “Enough to die for her...”

“If I can’t save her...” Sarah couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. “If I can’t save her then I’m as good as dead.”

Reluctantly, John nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. “We’ll try.”

“No. Cameron is my responsibility. If I can’t get her out... you do what you have to do.”

“We have a better chance as a team.”

“Maybe. But you’re right. Cameron is a machine. I’m willing to risk my life for her, but I won’t ask anyone else to. Kaliba has to be stopped. All the data needs to be destroyed. You focus on that. Let me worry about Cameron.”

John wanted to argue, Sarah could see it in his eyes, but then she saw the truth settle in them.

“We stop them,” John vowed. “For good.”

Sarah slipped her arms around him, pulling him in hard and close. “You’re ready,” she said again, breathing the words into his ear. His hands clenched in the back of her jacket and he simply held her tighter.

But then Sarah felt him stiffen and her blood went cold.

“Someone is in the shed,” John whispered.

****

Weaver appeared undisturbed by the Connors’ arrival. The shed door banged open, and Sarah was first into the breach, her handgun an extension of her arm. John followed a half step behind, his own weapon trained on Weaver’s forehead. She looked up at them, her fingers resting lightly on the concrete crematorium before her. The air smelled of metal and fear as she met Sarah’s unflinching gaze, watching the other woman’s finger flex on the trigger.

“We both know that will do you little good.” Weaver’s blue eyes were piercing even in the moonlight that filtered in through the window.

Sarah braced herself, unsure of what would happen next, but her aim didn’t falter. “You’re not taking Savannah.”

“Savannah...” Weaver had almost forgotten about the child, too consumed by her loss to give the human a passing thought. Reminded, she thought of the young girl who’d stared down the barrel of a gun at her, and she felt a strange sense of pride. She tilted her head as her gaze roamed to John before drifting back to Sarah again. Finally, she was beginning to understand what drove this woman. In many ways, they weren’t so different.

“I’m not here for Savannah.” Weaver looked down at the rust-like residue at the bottom of the pit. There wasn’t nearly enough to suggest she was gazing upon John Henry’s remains. “Where is he?”

“Gone,” John answered, his voice defiant. “I burned him.”

Those ice blue eyes lifted and focused intently on him. “Where is the rest of him?”

John swallowed as his mother shifted, sensing his hesitation.

Lowering his weapon, John turned to a nearby shelf. He picked up a simple paint can before turning it and holding it out to Weaver. “It was all I had.”

Weaver took the handle, her fingers brushing over John’s as she did so, but he did not jerk away. She took the can from him, noting the weight was approximate for what had been a model of John Henry’s stature.

“I was going to release them... somewhere nice,” John continued, all too aware of his mother’s palpable disapproval, but he felt the need to share his intentions. “He was another victim, caught up in this fight that wasn’t really his. I... know how that feels.”

Weaver stared at him, heedless of the weapon Sarah still pointed at her head. “He was a machine,” she said uncertainly.

“He was an innocent. He helped me, in the future.” John shrugged. “It’s the least I could do.”

His chin hitched higher in defiance, and Weaver was suddenly struck by the similarities between mother and son. Once more, she tilted her head as she drew the can closer, wrapping a protective arm around it.

“He’s my boy,” the cyborg told them. “I’ll... lay him to rest.”

Arms aching, Sarah lowered her weapon, uneasily aware that if Weaver had come to kill them they would be dead already. “What do you want?”

“The same thing you do.”

“I doubt that.”

“An end to Kaliba,” Weaver said as if Sarah hadn’t spoken. “James told me they have Cameron. They must be stopped.”

“Because they won’t bring about your version of Skynet?”

“Because they’ll bring about a version neither of us want.” Weaver stepped out from behind the pit and came closer, watching as Sarah stood straighter and held her ground. They were nearly toe-to-toe now, and John hovered close, his fingers tightening on the grip of his weapon. “We have a common enemy. They’ve taken things from us they had no right to take.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed when she thought she detected a ghost of emotion in the cyborg’s eyes. Something clicked, and she almost smirked. “John Henry... What did he do to you?”

“I think you know.” Weaver’s voice was even.

Shaking her head at the absurdity of it all, Sarah tucked her gun back into the waistband of her jeans. “We don’t want your help.”

“Mom,” John said hesitantly.

“You need my help. I can access critical systems you’ll never get to. You think taking out one structure and the servers held inside it is enough?” Weaver glanced at John before looking back at Sarah. “You need to shut them down permanently and quickly, before they break Cameron down, before they learn her secrets.”

Sarah swallowed at the thought. “I want to get her back.”

“All the more reason to accept my offer.”

John watched them, both fascinated and frightened. “How do we know we can trust you?”

“You don’t,” Weaver answered simply. “But we both want the same thing. We both want them destroyed. I can get inside their computer infrastructure, eradicate ever pixel of their research, but I will need help in eliminating their physical structures.”

“We’re talking about one place...” Sarah started.

“You’re thinking too small, Sarah,” Weaver chided. “If any scrap remains, the cycle begins again. They have prototypes. Research. Other artificial intelligences that are beginning to learn and evolve. Do you really want any of those things falling into the wrong hands?”

John struggled to breathe as he realized their mission had just gotten a lot harder. His mind spun with the details, with how they would accomplish such a thing with only a handful of people.

“Why not stop them before now?” Sarah wanted to know.

“I was certain I would emerge victorious and that their accomplishments would be rendered... irrelevant.” Weaver went silent for a long moment. “Skynet always seems to find a way... always manages to rise from the ashes. Not this time.”

“You have officers?” John asked suddenly. “Mercenaries that worked for Ziera Corp?”

“John...” Sarah warned only to fall silent when he held up a hand.

“Several,” Weaver said, regarding him with interest, a tiny smile beginning to form at the human’s plan.

“They’ll do as you say?”

“Without question.”

“John...” Sarah said again, her voice hardening.

“Mom.” John turned to face her. “We don’t have a choice. She’s right. We can’t just cut off Kaliba’s head. We need one massive strike. Weaver can take out their main office. We deal with the bunker. Her mercenaries clean up the rest.” They stared at each other as Weaver watched impassively.

“People will die,” Sarah said. “Are you really ready for that? To be the one responsible for that?”

“How many more will die if we don’t?” John held her gaze. “This could be the moment. The moment when we finally stop Skynet. If it means sacrificing the lives of the men and women who are hell bent on making it happen, then I can live with that.”

“Can you?” Sarah stared intently at her son, seeing straight through his words to the pain beneath, but John’s gaze never wavered.

Green eyes shifted back to Weaver, hatred clear in their depths.

“I believe James put it best. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Sarah weighed her options, everything in her head telling her this was a bad idea, but her heart would not be denied. If they had a chance, any chance of getting Cameron out alive, this was it. She’d always done her damndest not to kill, but maybe she no longer had a choice. Feeling like she was making a deal with the devil, Sarah took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Sensing Sarah’s reluctant acceptance of the arrangement, Weaver got down to the business at hand. “We have work to do.”

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