John couldn't help rolling his eyes. It was a statistical improbability there weren't more people without counterparts in an alternate reality. Everett's interpretation alone bore that out, add in Feynman's theories of alternate histories and with the age of history encompassed even in just the lifespan of the United States... right, not arguing quantum mechanics. But, if this was real -- and, really, if he could travel through time and change history, it wasn't that farfetched -- was there a John Connor here? And if there wasn't, what did that mean for the future?
"People my age fight wars in the streets where I come from." That much was true in 2027, 2011, 2009, 1999... Los Angeles, Mexico, South America. They hadn't been to New York. Skynet originated in Los Angeles. But he figured it couldn't be much different there. Different wars, different armies, same principle. Shrugging again, John smirked. "I don't know you and you probably are insane. Doesn't mean anything."
John watched as the man stood up, but followed suit soon enough rather than let this Vance have him at a disadvantage. He stifled the urge to laugh. "John's as good a name as any other, I suppose." Zipping up the hoodie he wore over a thin T-shirt and jeans, he moved around the table, but kept his distance from Vance as best he could. He might need to get out of this room and see where he was if he had any chance of getting out of there, but he couldn't afford to let the man get a hold on him, either. "Lead on, Sir."