A classroom full of scientists -- the sweater-vests and pipes letting us know these are old-timey scientists -- write incomprehensible formulae on a blackboard and discuss science-y things as Sarah voiceovers that she became obsessed with scientists while she was in the mental hospital. Specifically nuclear scientists, the ones who invented The Bomb. "Oppenheimer, Heisenberg, Fermi, Teller. Pioneers, geniuses, all." Suddenly, Sarah's in the midst of the scientists, with her gun out and ready to kill these beautiful minds. She wants to know why these "fathers of our destruction" couldn't stop what they were doing, and if she had the chance, would she have stopped them? None of the scientists is paying any attention to her, and she shoots several times, killing them all. But they just get up again, and encircle her. And then they aren't scientists at all, but a ring of fleshless Terminators. She fires her gun again, but it has no effect. And then all the Terminators simultaneously raise their weapons, and shoot, which is when Sarah wakes up. She's on her bed, surrounded by documents and photographs.

John walks in with a cup of coffee for her, and he says, "You look like hell," which is not true now, and has not been true thus far in the series. She explains that there are newspaper clippings, surveillance photos, bank records, and pamphlets from every high-tech company in the state. "I even think I saw the deeds to city hall in there." She says the resistance guys weren't sent back to be a support group: "They're a Skynet hunting party." She can't make heads or tails of all the info, but there's one document that seems like a good place to start: a Cyberdyne employee list. "She's not going to be happy to see you," says John. "She never is," says Sarah wryly. He asks if she wants him to come along, and she says he's got his own job to do, a big one. At that moment, Cameron walks past in the hall, wearing nothing but bra and panties. Sarah takes a moment to reflect on the gratuitous cheesecake. Really, they're lucky she had any clothes on.

In the kitchen, Cameron, now fully clothed, is robotically putting on makeup, and John jokes that she's getting pretty good at it, but since it's not brain surgery, it'd be odd if an advanced cybernetic intelligence couldn't do handle a stick of eyeliner. Cameron replies that brain surgery would require a much sharper stick of eyeliner. John rolls his eyes.

Sarah walks in and notes that it's "much better" when Cameron wears clothes, which is a matter of opinion, and then starts going over the big job that Cameron's got to do, unfolding a diagram on a piece of paper: "Okay, six ways in, six ways out. The front opens to the street here. Security's minimal. Two armed guards in the morning, four in the afternoon. And if anything goes wrong, there's a parking lot here." Planning a raid on some computer research lab? Nope. Just going to high school. John says he can handle it, and kisses his mother goodbye. "We can handle it," says Cameron, which is a relief to Sarah. "Don't you kiss me," she warns Cameron, who heads out the door. "Or anyone else," calls Sarah. Aw, the first day of school. That brings back memories; heading to school with my futuristic cyborg killing-machine bodyguard.