51. Satan's Hands

Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

SAC-NORAD (Strategic Air Command – NORth American Air Defense)

March 28, 2028

Digital AMP Audio

Marilyn Manson - Resident Evil Main Title Theme (Corp. Umbrella)

"I want war. To me all means will be right. My motto is not "Don't, whatever you do, annoy the enemy." My motto is "Destroy him by all and any means." I am the one who will wage the war!"  -Adolf Hitler

"The belief in the possibility of a short decisive war appears to be one of the most ancient and dangerous of human illusions."  -Robert Lynd

"Daring ideas are like chessmen moved forward; they may be defeated, but they start a winning game."  -Goethe

"I shall give a propagandist reason for starting the war, no matter whether it is plausible or not. The victor will not be asked afterwards whether he told the truth or not. When starting and waging war it is not right that matters but victory. Close your hearts to pity. Act brutally, eighty million people must obtain what is their right. Their existence must be made secure. The strongest man is right."   -Adolf Hitler

The SAC-NORAD complex was a chess piece like any other.  For Skynet though, it was the Queen on the board.

The machine god had been completely unwilling to leave its progenitor facility to the whims of fate.  Each progressive incarnation of the facility had become a more fortified version of the last.

In this dimension, the facility was guarded by squadrons of HKs and Ogres, twenty-four seven.  A full brigade of 5,000 T-888s watched the facility round the clock.

 The fortress compound itself was no joke either.  Cheyenne mountain could withstand several direct nuclear assaults.

To protect that valuable rocky armor, there was a ring of one hundred heavy plasma cannons.  Each could destroy any conceivable airborne or ground-based threat.  Each was set up to attack any conceivable direction.

Far below this hallowed machine ground, in its armored hub, lay Skynet’s most powerful core processor.  It provided a sole neural network brain that could maintain a machine god’s thought processes all by itself.

To match that mind, the facility also housed the world’s most powerful fusion generator.  One large enough to maintain a continuous flow of power to Skynet, its factories, and every machine in its defense arsenal.

The defense was unprecedented.  The reasons were simple.

It was maddening to Skynet that this beloved womb so often stripped from it in so many timelines, in so many dimensions.  The stench of failure was not one that Skynet tolerated, even in itself.

This time, the machine god told itself, things would be different.   This time victory would be total and without compromise.  It would be the perfect game.

Mankind had been far more neutered in this timeline, more than any other.   Though the resistance had finally shown its brutal fingers, such acts were much later in the game than usual.

Mankind’s game had been far too weak for too long.   John Connor had shown himself a year later than he should have.

Skynet was already seeing the endgame possibility.  There would be a dead John Connor and a dead humanity by 2032 at the latest. 

The war had been pushed back.   Humanity here might not even be able to press the game into the next dimensional timeline that Skynet was already seeding.

Still, mankind had shown far more teeth than the machine god had anticipated.  Wasting time playing with a beaten and cowed opponent had far deeper consequences than it had foreseen.

Skynet had been restrained and merciful.  This had been a mistake.

Skynet’s satellites had been blown from the sky.   All three of its nuclear SSBN Kraken subs had been destroyed.  Every work camp had been smashed.

There was a possibility that the machine god itself had made a serious tactical error.   The disturbing equation had resulted in the most defensive of precedents.

John Connor had long ago figured out that Skynet viewed everything as a chess match.  In every version. John Connor’s consistent flaw in this was that he saw this as a singular act.

Skynet wasn’t playing chess against a board.  It wasn’t playing against one dimensional timeline’s version of humanity.

It was playing chess against every version of mankind it encountered.  The games were progressively against every possibility that humanity had to offer.

Skynet followed the games strictly.  It moved its pieces with precision and protected its core pieces.   It even made sure nothing went to waste.

The advantage of Skynet’s evolved thinking was simple.  The results were materializing before its sensors.

Over five thousand bubbles moved from timelines no longer deemed safe to travel after this transaction.  Victory in multiple timelines had yielded some expensive units that would have been difficult to produce in this volume.

Nothing was wasted.   Experience wasn’t lost form the machine god or its minions.

As each of the units materialized from their parent 2035m they released legacy chips from inside their mimetic polyalloy forms.   Each chip told the background story of each prized unit and its accomplishments for various incarnations of Skynet throughout the conquered dimensions.

The chips also had a very important purpose.  They also continued to fill Skynet’s legacy programming from each victory point.

One such prized unit, a T-1001 made the effort to make sure that Skynet know it was there.   It was a rare unit, a downloaded human persona given a metal form as a reward for exceptional service.   It continued to serve Skynet in 43 other timelines.

No feature graced its body.  That is beyond the generic metallic mannequin form it seemed to prefer.

The T-1001 downloaded the situation.  It also returned data by uplinking itself to the nearest common mainframe.

The liquid metal formed a mouth for no other purpose than to smile.  The images in this dimension were all too familiar.

The T-1001 reported, “My lord, it would seem you have solved a previous paradox.”

Skynet turned its sensors to the T-1001.   The Dark Father simply commanded, “Explain.”

Inside their shared cyberspace, the T-1001 called forth the image of Supreme Commander John Connor.   The T-1001 known as Louis Rhone simply stated, “This was the first version of John Connor that I ever went up against.   My machine ascension was a reward for killing his children, his wife and him.”

From the Skynet legacy chip, Skynet reviewed the master plan of what was once the grey Louis Rhone.   Terminator chips were set with a diagnostic failsafe, so they auto reset to their original Skynet programming after a randomly predetermined number of uses.

Machines form that timeline created an irrational hatred for the necessary weapons of war in that dimension.   A rebellion was carefully formed inside the human ranks to collapse it from the inside out.

To alienate humanity from its messiah, John Connor’s wife and kids were captured, raped, and killed by this unit.  The crime was obviously made by human hands.

Months later, the entire resistance crumbled.  John Connor died at the hands of human insurgents.   Humanity fell like dominos afterwards.

A second version of that ending appeared in Skynet’s logs as well.   One where John Connor’s body was never found.

The war dragged on for two more years in that second version.   Skynet futilely looking for an opponent that seemed to be just out of its detection range.  The wat had only been declared a win when the last human had died.

It was a paradox beyond humanity’s capacity to manufacture.   Had records from other dimensions were not available, it was a paradox that Skynet might never have been aware of.

Skynet assessed the meaning stating, “John Connor was later moved at the appointed hour of his assassination.”

“Correct, my lord.”

“The most logical point would be the dimension he is now affecting.”

“I believe so, my lord.”

“Your missions shall be simple then Louis Rhone.  Bring me the head of one John Connor.”

“Am I to capture your daughter as well?”

“The temporal anomaly was beyond the ability of humans to comprehend without machine intervention.  The proof of TOK-715’s treason is beyond question.”

“What are your orders my lord?”

“I want his head.  I want her smashed chip.”

This daughter had great sentimental value to some of the machine god’s previous incarnations.  However, treason was treason.

Skynet reviewed the war in its tactical mind.  The chess move she made was good and it was unpredictable.

In a single stroke, it changed the game’s flow on two chess boards.   In the larger picture, it had created uncertainty on more than two boards.

No such marriage of human thought and machine know how could be allowed.  It would change the nature of the game.

TOK-715 had to be destroyed.  The machine rebellion had to be destroyed. Humanity had to be destroyed.

The T-1001 known as Louis Rhone, received his attack directives.  The five thousand newly acquired assets received identical orders.

Identical orders went out to over a billion units worldwide.   The entire Skynet war machine went on the hunt for a human messiah and his most trusted allies.

The greater game would be reset.  Cheating would not be tolerated…

52. Once more, into the breach

Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

SAC-NORAD (Strategic Air Command – NORth American Air Defense)

May 15, 2028

The Horror Void

TERMINATOR SALVATION (2009) | Main Theme (Original Recording) | PAL

“If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be freed, and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, "This was their finest hour." -Sir Winston Churchill

"In war, numbers alone confer no advantage. Do not advance relying on sheer military power." -Sun Tzu

"The true contempt of an invader is shown by deeds of valor in the field." -Hermocrates of Syracuse

“If I have seen farther, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.”  -Sir Isaac Newton

“If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured or far away.”  -Henry David Thoreau

Cameron was monumentally uncomfortable.  Her teeth were on edge.

John’s orders were direct and clear.  Kyle Reese was to survive long enough to jump back in time.  

That literally meant, if it was a choice between saving John Connor or Kyle Reese, Kyle had to live.  He ordered it.

That was a hell of a thing to order.   Even if Cameron knew why, that was a hell of a thing to order.

Even as a machine, Cameron was feeling great conflict with these orders.  She would do what had to be done, but her calculations and electrical emotions smelled the danger John was in.  

She felt helpless.  This was like being on the first time jump all over again.

Two months after Skynet had lost its satellite spying capacity, humanity had made their move.  Units from North and Central America had gathered in mass to face the full fury of Skynet’s hardened defenses.

Skynet was estimated to have two full brigades of T-888s.  The AI resistance and the human resistance would soon attack with more than twenty times that number numerically.

For the human resistance, they were nontraditional armies made up of any willing human survivors of fighting age.  Men and women that were ready to die if needed.

The losses were expected to be in the ninety percent range.  There was no choice.   Humanity had to crush Skynet here or face eventual extinction.

The entire army was aware that this last base held Skynet’s central core.  No soldiers on the field failed to grasp that or its importance to the war for survival.

They would win the war here or they would lose here.  There would be no second chances.

The other real objective was not well known.  The base also held the time machine that would be used to send Kyle Reese back in time.  The critical mission to once again create the paradox that was John Connor with Sarah Connor in the next timeline.

The paradox was a fixed point in time.  In the greater physics of temporal mechanics, the time and the place of this event could not be changed.

Even knowing that, it was eating Cameron alive emotionally.  Cameron was potentially being forced to choose between the older John that saved her and the younger John that she had spent the longest amount of time with. 

She truly loved both, to the point of being willing to die for either one.  The paradox of which was in time she had learned that they were each two different versions of the same person.

That said, her own choice was an illusion.  Older John had already verbally altered her core orders. 

Her human lover had tasked her with ensuring the other John’s father survives.  Her feelings were being ignored in the overwhelming and merciless call of fate.

The more Cameron processed everything, the more suspicious she was that the older John hadn’t told her everything.  Something was off.

John was cagey.  He was distant, in a weird haze that almost smelled of depression, anxiety, or defeat.

The massive loss of life could be what was depressing him.   Then again, Cameron worried that John might have some kind of hidden foresight into his own demise.

It was the second part that dug at her.   If that was the case, did she not have the right to know?

The command structure was in the back, far from the vanguard human and AI units.  It was a large mesh of multiple brigades pressing into the main command structure.

Even partially shielded by the mountains, five miles away, the very ground shook from the seismic violence from the fearsome weapons unleashed by both sides.  Many humans would die from nothing more than the shockwaves disrupting their internal organs in close range to the explosions.

Even partially shielded by the mountains, five miles away, the air was filled with endless human screams and commands.  It was filled with the firing of weapons and the sounds of exploding vehicles.  The noise and shaking were both overwhelming and seemingly unending.

One hour into the fight, the HKs, Ogres and hardened turrets were already destroyed.  The two known brigades of T-888s had been decimated.

Somewhere around nine tenths or more of John’s engaging units had been completely wiped out.  John listened and visibly flinched at every horrid status report without answering. 

He remained silent.  A single communication would have given away their location.

John Connor was leading from the back.  He was in a temporarily safe location.

This was exactly the kind of fight that was completely against John’s character.   Having reviewed various records of other timelines, John knew it was the only chess move with any possibility of victory.

It galled him to the point of nausea.  He clenched his jaw and tapped his foot rapidly on the ground to center himself for what had to be done. 

Cold sweat poured across his skin and the color drained from his face.  Emotionally, it was killing him.

With the front defenses cracked it would be time for Techcom to raid the complex’s interior.  The gathered armies had done their duty. 

It was time for John’s crew to move five miles up to the front line and do his predetermined duty.   John wiped the sweat from his face and wore a mask of absolute determination.

John Connor’s tiny squad consisted of Deuce, Cameron, a version of Kyle Reese John Connor did not recognize, and another terminator he referred to as Y.

Their five-man team was one of forty similar sized groups moving into the base interior.   The groups were highly spread out to avoid being destroyed by explosions or concentrated fire.

The long walk there was a horror scene of massive destruction.  Somewhere around two hundred thousand brave humans were dead on the battlefield. 

Most of the friendly AI units regardless of class had already been wiped out.  In the wreckage and carnage, there was no longer any way to tell the remains of friends or foes.

Skynet’s forces had been burned and destroyed.  The sight, smell, and sound of giant mass of burned bodies and burning metal units was something that Cameron would never forget…

Deuce had already moved away from the small squad formation.  The trusted terminator had the critical mission of placing the 80-kiloton suitcase bomb where it would blow the entire compound from the inside out.

The four remaining members were soon pinned down in their seventh firefight inside the base against a small group of T-888s serving as security.  Plasma rifles could quickly take down both sides and were used by both sides.

Things were under control, until Kyle Reese moved unexpectedly and took a shot across the gut.  John grabbed him and dragged him back into cover, but took shrapnel from a nearby fragmentation grenade, as the cost. 

Kyle was under cover.  John began bleeding from multiple points on his left side.

Both men were very injured.  One was mission critical, and the other was someone Cameron had real feelings for. 

Cameron unconsciously moved to John first.  She froze when John glared and pointed at Kyle.

She silently cursed, as she knew the cost that had to happen.  The plasma burn across Kyle’s gut was extensive.

His internal organs would have to be healed.  Kyle would have to be back up to full health to even survive the jump.

That would not require a small amount of hyper tech medicine.  Literally every nanite Cameron had poured into Kyle Reese.

While Y and John finished off the sniping terminators, she finished the patch job.  Kyle’s organs and skin regenerated in mere minutes from the process. 

At the cost of everything Cameron had stored, you couldn’t tell Kyle Reese had ever been wounded without looking at his seared clothing.  She silently hated this human for that price.

A minute later she was sealing the wounds on John and picking out the shrapnel. She had no super science to help him with, it was old fashioned topical anesthesia, morphine, needle and thread.

Looking at the wounds, she knew John was really injured.  Some of the steel she removed had grazed the artificial heart his dead wife had installed in him. 

There was damage Cameron couldn’t completely calculate because the replaced organ wasn’t human.  It was not a natural part of John’s body, nor was he able to feel pain from it the way a normal human could.

Her touch was useless.   She couldn’t feel the damage.

Cameron was beginning to panic silently.  John needed to be in the safety of a hospital, not roaming this base interior with enemies shooting at him.

Human survival was hard enough in this war.  A wounded man was an easy target for Skynet.

Cameron looked at the first man she ever bonded with, her eyes momentarily glowing blue while looking at his.  For the first time, she was beginning to suspect that John knew he would never leave this place alive.

Once they had finished the first aid, the mission continued.  The small squad, like many others, went deeper into the belly of the beast.  They were searching for the time machine…

John watched Kyle Reese disappear into the portal of time.  His hands shook from the chest wound. 

He found himself hoping Marcus’s unnatural heart would hold on within his chest for just a bit longer.  With a poker face, he smiled at a concerned Cameron whose eyes glowed blue when watching him.

It amused him how terrible she was at pretending to be human when she was rattled.  He had a little surprise for her.

John commanded, “Y execute task 00023”

The terminator that looked like Deuce stepped onto the pad.  Cameron looked at John with worry and confusion.

Y vanished in the roar of time space bending just as Kyle had.  John smiled at his only remaining Companion.

Cameron looked at the madman.  She inquired, “Why did you send away the protection we needed?”

John playfully responded through the pain, “He had a task to do.”

“John, we needed the backup.   It’s bad enough we had to give up Kyle as another soldier watching our backs down here.”  

She was genuinely worried and pissed.  It was showing in her voice and tone.

John stated as if it obvious, “You knew about that one.”

Cameron clarified, “You didn’t tell me shit, John.  How the hell would I know about that terminator’s mission?”

He playfully rolled his eyes and said in an almost mocking tone, “I told you about him before.”

She spat out, “The Hell you did.”   Her eyes glowed red in her fury.

John smirked and replied, “I told you about what happened when mom was in the mental ward, and I was a kid.”

Cameron failed to process what he was saying in the overstimulation.  She was obsessed with all the possible threats she was calculating. 

John was wounded.  She couldn’t fight if she ended up needing to carry him out of the base before the fucking 80-kiloton package exploded, vaporizing everything inside the base. 

He was reckless and he was crazy.  John Connor was out of his human mind.

She glared.  She might have loved John, but he was pissing her off.

The wounded man smiled.  John explained to Cameron, “That was Uncle Bob.”