Two more episodes, guys, TWO MORE. And still no renewal news. Also? GOD DAMN WRITERS. Just wanted to get that out there early. You’ll find out why soon enough.
Previously, Sarah was kind of a bitch and sent Derek and Cameron to a fake safehouse so she could take John to see Charley. This ends badly for everyone when she discovers that she’s been boob-bugged and Kaliba hit-men go after everyone. Derek? Kidnapped. Cameron? Electrocuted. Sarah? Attacked. Charley? DIES. In other news, John Henry was infected by a brother AI program. Yes, ladies and gents, there are two Skynet-like programs running amok and one of them is hiring hit-men to take out the Connors.
We open on a simple stone with a plaque that reads "1984" and after that there's another, and another, and another until we realize that we’re in a pauper’s graveyard, where the nameless dead are buried. The camera pans up and we see Sarah, standing alone. But not for long, as she’s quickly joined by Derek. Looking out across the field she admits she doesn’t know which one is Kyle’s grave. She knows it's here, though. Derek says it doesn’t matter. There’s grass, trees, he could think of worse places for his brother to rest. It’s an echo of the conversation they had in season one when she told him how Kyle died, when there was that first hint of what that friendship, that family could become. Before Jesse, before Riley, before they stopped trusting each other altogether.
Speaking of broken trust, Derek mentions that there aren’t many lighthouses in the desert, where the safehouse was supposed to be. Sarah evades the accusation with a simple comment, they stopped off to see Charley. “So you did.” Sarah tells him Charley’s dead. “So I heard.” From who? “John.” Because John still trusts him, John still loves him, John hasn't turned his back on him. John? Is all Derek has left. Sarah’s not overly enthusiastic and Derek finally calls it. “My brother buried out there? Thought that counted for something between us.” Sarah’s answer, always and forever?
“John counts for more.”
And I hate her a little for that. Because if there was one person who gets that concept? It’s Derek. But before I can rant anymore, John arrives, glaring at his mother. Derek expresses his condolences over Charley and John ruefully quips, “Well. Everybody dies for me, right?” Derek tries to say more, to lessen that pain, but John won’t hear it. Instead he pulls a PDA that he got off one of the guys that attacked him. On it, is a picture of Savannah Weaver. John doesn’t know who that is, but he recognizes her from Dr. Sherman’s office (“The Tower is Tall but the Fall is Short” 2.6). It’s not much, but it’s worth following up on. But everyone stands still, Derek not looking at Sarah, Sarah not looking at Derek. So it’s a weary and beaten John that gives the order. “We all know we’re going so let’s just go.” He’s tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of the people he cares about dying. And it’s not done yet.
At school, Savannah’s teacher is asking the students to open a vocab program. Obedient little children with obedient little screens open their programs, but you can clearly see that Savannah has something else up her screens. Something that makes her giggle. The teacher wants to know what’s so funny and Savannah tries to be evasive, but it’s no use. The teacher pulls up what was there on a master screen and sees a chat window. We cut to the inevitable parent-teacher conference where the teacher tells Catherine about her concerns over Savannah’s “friend”, John Henry, and all the pervy thoughts that go along with those concerns. After all these dangerous, dangerous individuals look just like normal people. Get it? GET IT?
Whilst I get ice for the bruise the anvil left on my temple, Catherine’s having a little talk with Savannah. Why was she talking to John Henry during class? She was teaching him the words to a song that her father used to sing. Offering to sing it herself, Catherine is shut down when little Savannah insists that she’s not a boy and she can’t sing. Really? We couldn’t just leave it at the “not a boy” quip? Because I’m pretty sure Shirley Manson can sing and no adorable moppet can make that in-joke palatable with me. Not this week. God Damn Writers. Savannah’s still upset though, because the teacher said bad things about John Henry, about how talking to people on the internet can end with bad people coming to your house and hurting you. Catherine assures Savannah that John Henry would never hurt her, but that she shouldn’t talk about him because people won’t understand him, and they’re afraid of what they don’t understand. With a final admonition to shut up about the computer man in the basement already, Catherine sends Savannah back to class and we cut to the AI himself.
John Henry, like all children do eventually, has discovered his own reflection. He studies himself as Ellison arrives. “Do you have a brother, Mr. Ellison?” The answer is yes. “Does he look like you?” The answer isn’t a complete yes, but it’s still a yes. John Henry wonders if his brother will look like him. Somewhat confused by this line of reasoning, Ellison points out that wherever the other AI is, it’s still a computer. It won’t “look like” anyone. John Henry clarifies – he’s wondering how similar their data is, if they think alike, if given the same data set they would reach the same conclusions. Could be, Ellison admits, but he’s quick to point out that John Henry is still unique.
Changing the topic, John Henry starts talking about the efficiencies and potentials of the human mind. Ellison smiles, well, smiles for him, and nods, having absolutely no clue where this is going. The one flaw, according to John Henry, is an inability to download at death. Heaven solves the problem in theory, all those souls with no bodies, but without hardware. John Henry requires hardware. That worries John Henry, as he thinks his brother might seek to destroy him, and he doesn’t want to die again.
