Back in Meddle’s Office 

“I want the secret to your Terminator’s survival.”

John hesitated.  He was watching the security camera over Meddle’s shoulder, and a certain storage door opened releasing two people.

“I’m not at liberty to divulge that information.” John bluffed.

Meddle smiled just a tiny bit.  He knew what motivated kids these days.

“I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t afford.”

A cheque book came out of his inside pocket and he wrote at least nine zeros on it.  “You sell me your Terminator and I’ll give you anything you want.  Is he worth that much?”

He held it up for John to see, but the boy didn’t even look at it.

Meddle added another zero and repeated the question.  John did the same.

Meddle went very still ... then he lunged and grabbed John by the neck.

The chair toppled over backwards and John was flat on the floor, wincing.

“TELL ME!” the outraged Terminator bellowed, eyes blazing.  “A special code?”

“No!”

“A password?”

“No!”

“An advanced chip?”

“You haven’t a clue!” John shouted at him.

Meddle looked ready to strangle him to death but there came a series of explosions from outside.  The enraged machine looked up, distracted.

John listened and knew only two people who’d make that much noise.

Meddle spotted Sarah and the Terminator on his security cameras.  Together, they were destroying his precious T-Connors.

“You’re coming with me.” Meddle hissed at the boy, tearing off John’s restraints and carrying him effortlessly under one arm.  John struggled and kicked.

“PUT ME DOWN!” he screamed.

“If you don’t shut up I’ll break your neck.” Meddle said, simply.

“No you won’t, ‘cause if you kill me I can never tell you the secret!”

Meddle stopped in his tracks.  He looked at Sarah and the Terminator on his cameras who were running towards his office. 

“You won’t, but maybe he will.” Meddle breathed, morphing an arm into a gun.

Sarah and the Terminator burst through the door, guns raised.

Their eyes widened.  Meddle already had his weapon pointed at John’s temple.

“Don’t move!” he snarled.

Sarah and the Terminator raised their hands very slowly.

You could see it in their eyes.  They longed to pepper Meddle with bullets but wouldn’t dare risk hitting John.

“Terminator,” Meddle breathed as they glared at each other.  “Tell me how you survive or Master Connor dies.”

The Terminator looked at John as if for permission.  Everything about the boy said ‘Don’t you dare’ except for his voice.  But naturally, the Cyborg wouldn’t abandon his mission for anything.

He looked back at the blue-eyed machine.

“You want a survival tip?” he rumbled.  “Avoid a Terminator.”

The window behind Meddle shattered as a new machine swung through it from the floor above and flattened Meddle.

John was thrown forwards but the Terminator caught him before he hit the ground.

Helping John up, he pulled him towards the door and they ran for it.  Sarah fired like crazy at Meddle’s head before following at speed.

They had less than five minutes to get out of range.

Meddle strained to pull himself free, but the new machine clung to him and beat his head with an iron fist.

Enraged that his own design was being turned on him, Meddle struck back.

They fought with all the ferocity of enraged dinosaurs, tearing each other’s specially-made gold-and-silver parts like they were scrap.

John heard their metallic shrieks and roars echo down the stairwell as they fled the building.

“Get in!” Sarah yelled, throwing open the driver’s seat of the car.  Once inside, John goggled at the Terminator who clambered in beside him.

“How did you make that thing?” he gasped as Sarah hit the gas.

“Spare parts.” the other said, shortly, buckling John’s seat-belt for him.

They had ten seconds.

Meddle was now pinned to the floor by his neck, held in place by a formidable, iron boot.  “And what did he teach you?” he hissed at its owner with hatred.

“Hasta la vista, baby.”

BOOM

The fireball bloomed and boiled upwards in an orange mushroom, frying everything in a wide, blackening circle.  It rolled after the Connor’s car like a tsunami, threatening to engulf them.  John swore the hairs on the back of his neck frazzled gently.  Then they were clear and speeding off along the dusty road.

John looked back out the rear window at the wreckage.

“Yeah!” He cheered, punching the air. “We did it!”

Sarah’s eyes were reflected in the rear-view mirror, but they didn’t look triumphant.  They looked sombre.  Beside John, the Terminator mirrored the look.

John stopped grinning and frowned at the other two.

“What’s wrong with you guys?  We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Pull over.” The Terminator said, flatly.

Sarah swerved them off the road.  There was a crunch of dust as the car came to a halt, and Sarah put the hand-break on.

The Terminator got out, moved round the car, and began to stride briskly through the long grasses that grew for miles in all directions.  The sunlight bounced off it, making it golden.

“What are you doing?” John called out the window.

He got out and ran after him, the gold grass swishing round his knees as he did so.

“Where are you going?” he shouted, angrily, as he guessed it.

“Away.”

“No you’re not, you only just got back!”

“My transportation arrives in seven minutes, it’s the only chance I have of getting back to the future you.”

John sped up until he was beside his friend.  He grabbed him by the arm and tugged him round.

“Why can’t you just stay instead?” he fumed.  “Don’t you think I need you now?  Why does everything we do have to revolve round that damn war!”

“Because we are soldiers.”

This maddened John into silence.

“Your future self has to wipe my mind of Meddle’s data so the work cannot be continued.”

“But you won’t remember anything.” John said in a barely audible voice now.

The Terminator bowed his head.

“I never should have taught myself to feel emotions.  It prevents me from fulfilling my mission to protect you as effectively.”

“Screw your mission!” John yelled, and his eyes were wet now.

He began pounding the Terminator’s chest with his fists.  The other stood quite still and let him do it.

“You stupid machine!  You stupid, stupid machine!” John cursed him.

Sarah was crossing the grass towards them, watching her son cry.

John went on hitting his friend until the other’s arms went round him.

“Fighter’s spirit.  That’s my boy.” he murmured.

Sarah waited serenely until John was ready to let go, then she drew near.

John kept his head down but put his arms round her at once.

“I want you to promise me something.”  Sarah told the Terminator with a resolved look.  “You once told me you wanted the machines to lose the war.” 

“Yes?” he asked, uncomfortably.

“When you go back, you’re to tell my son from me that you’re to keep your emotions.”

John raised his eyebrows at her.

“You may be a machine,” Sarah went on, “but I want you to win the war with us.”

“I promise I’ll tell him.  But I can’t promise anything else.” he added, cringing.

Sarah nodded.  John let go of her and stared at the ground, not facing anyone.

He wasn’t convinced his future self would allow such a thing.  What he jerk he was going to turn into!

He vaguely heard his mum thank the Terminator for saving them again, and John heard her move towards him.

There was a short silence, and then she drew back.  John felt her hand on his shoulder and allowed himself to be moved away for what was about to happen next.

A concentrated surge of energy built up around the Terminator’s form, and a wind whipped up.  It swept the hair back from the humans’ faces.

Blue, forked-lightening crackled up around the Cyborg.

There was a brief, blinding flash of light ... and he was gone.

All that remained of the Terminator was his biker’s outfit and a pair of melted sunglasses. 

Sarah and John stood there for a moment, listening to the gentle breeze.

“We’d better go.” Sarah said, softly, for they had a three day journey ahead of them.

Neither budged an inch.

After a while, John heard his mother making her way back through the grass.

The teenager moved forward, cautiously, and bent down.

He picked up the leather jacket in both hands.  It was heavy and dotted with bullet-holes.

Then he found the note in one of the pockets and unfolded it.

On it was three words written in permanent marker:

I’ll be back.

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