"Soul Survivor"
by elfin
Dedicated to Robert Eric Forster


"Empathy, humanity, love: these qualities are resident within a man's
soul, no matter where that soul resides."
- from "I, Robot", Issac Asimov

* One man can make a difference, but not alone. *

("...and I wonder when we are ever going to change,
living out this fantasy 'till nothing else remains...")


Prologue

In brilliant sunlight a sleek black form, held under the control of one
man, driven for the pure pleasure of driving, streaks along the quiet,
dusty road. Several miles ahead, a man waits in an Ivory white Esprit,
watching.
(there are moments in our lives which are cross-roads)
As the black form closes on the waiting man, he gives an order to a
long truck at the next fork in the road.
(moments which alter the course of our lives)
With calculated timing, the truck pulls out of the left-hand fork,
directly into the path of the oncoming car.
(moments when worlds crumble and we emerge to an unrecognizable
existence)
Without pause, the car becomes airborne, launching itself over the
truck, end to end. And as it passes overhead, a large weapon is fired
in rapid succession at the underside of the car. Instantly, its driver
is thrown out, landing heavily in the long grass to the side of the
road. Under the onslaught of the attack, the driver's partner loses
control, fails to bring the car down safely, and the vehicle crashes
heavily into the road just beyond the truck.
(there are moments that can shatter everything we know and depend on)
The truck moves off, towards the man in the white car, to report
success. It leaves behind a silence, pierced only by the groans of the
fallen man, and the frantic attempts of his dying partner to contact
him.
(these are moments we have to survive)

*****

One - A Place in the Forest

The torrential rain crashed against the windshield as Michael drove
through the night. The wipers were on maximum speed, but they were
still having difficulty coping and visibility was low.

_This is not happening, it can not be happening_.
There had been a time when his life had been easy. There had been a
time when all he had had to worry about was whether the store would have
any chocolate mousse filled doughnuts left by the time Jerry managed to
turn up at work. In those days the only things he had to care for were
his job, his cat Molly and his appearance; vital for pulling the girls
drawn to the uniform of a Lieutenant.

_This car is impossible to steer... too heavy... why do they make cars
so heavy?_
It was only because he was not used to it. He was spoiled, he took his
transport for granted. Fast cars, powerful trucks, Lear jets. Could
all that really be gone? What the hell was happening? Only two days
ago everything was fine, everything was as normal as it got for him, and
for his friends, the people he worked with and depended upon. Three
days ago life had been as near to perfect as it ever had been.

A whine of... of what? Frustration? Pain? Fear? Whatever that sound
was, it was terrible to hear. Michael dropped his hand on to the metal
casing on the passenger seat, in a gesture that could only possibly have
comforted himself.
"Hang on, please, just hang on."
The weather was abysmal, the sheets of rain making it almost impossible
to see more than a couple of feet in front of the hood. These
unfamiliar roads were pitch black, the only light coming from the weak
headlamps, straining to cut through the incessant downpour. He almost
missed the turn-off. The signpost was old and barely readable, but he
was paying attention. A life depended upon it.

Two days ago. There had been a malfunction in the communications
software. Actually Michael had just been relieved to get his boss off
his back for a short while. He had initially imagined it to be weather
interference; the electrical storms had been quite bad recently. And
then he had thought properly about the software. But the diagnostic
programs had not turned up any problems, and he had eventually started
to worry. Then had come the attack.

If he closed his eyes he could still see the look on her face when she
had seen the limping wreckage of her baby.... It had mirrored the
horror of his own expression, although his was worn down by fear and
worry, and the constant of having spent ten hours watching his friend
slowly slipping away from him.

And now... now they were still fighting to save a life, a life whose
last real hope had been destroyed in the devastation they had found back

at the lab. Up until then, he had had a chance of survival. But when
they had seen what had been done, when they had realized that every
diagnostic computer in the building had been smashed, their hope of ever
getting him back had faded to practically nothing.

So here he was, driving a strange car to the place that held the only
hope that his own life, just maybe, could be real again.

**

Bonnie Barstow stood in the open doorway, watching the rain cascade off
the sloped roof of the house. They had taken a big risk at the
airport. Devon had spotted several men he recognized from mug shots,
but they had been waiting for Michael, and any sign of the black
casing. They were not waiting for her or Devon. Their suspicions had
been right. Sending the computer by car had been safer, keeping it well
out of the way of those that had already done so much damage.

Bonnie's ears still seemed to ring with the high pitched screaming of
the alarms that had signalled the start of this nightmare. She felt
empty inside. She had been surfing the Internet when it had all
started. She could even remember what she was looking at; views of the
mountains, giving her ideas about taking a winter break. All the horror
had begun with one simple beep. She had not known what it had meant at
first, had not honestly known where it had been coming from. But it had
not stopped, and eventually she had gotten up and walked over to the
small console built into the corner of the trailer. There was one
flashing red light, and five steady columns of small red and green
LEDs. There were a great many LEDs around her, but these meant
something specific.

(As she watched, a second red light started to flash. Another,
slightly louder beeping joined the first, and the initial column of LEDs
dulled. She stared at the display, understanding starting to descend
over her as the second column of lights went off; first the green ones,
then the lower red ones. Another beep, this time unmistakably an alarm,
overrode the other two. As the third column of the five darkened, a
small LCD display came alive, lines of text starting to scroll slowly up
the small screen into view. By the time the high-pitched shrieking
alarm started, the words on the screen had stopped moving, and a cursor
was flashing.
External Access Released : Command

Almost without thinking, Bonnie pressed her thumb against the large
black button on the console. The noises, the flashing red lights,
everything, stopped. Except for the LEDs winking out down the final
column. As the last red LED turned to black, some more words appeared
at the command prompt on the screen.
Integrity 0%
Before she had time to do anything it was over.

The phone was ringing, and still in a slight daze she lifted the
receiver. She vaguely heard Devon telling her that every alarm in the
lab was sounding and that lights were flashing; big red lights. He was
panicky, but for a wonderful, blissful moment, she still remained
ignorant as to what it all meant. And then she knew. Devon had simply
said his name. She almost dropped the phone. This could not be
happening....

She hung up the receiver with Devon still talking. The silence that
remained around her was deafening. All she could focus on were the
words displayed on the screen. And in a moment of horrifying clarity
she knew exactly what it all meant. She knew what each tiny dark LED
represented. She knew what the words 'External Access Released' meant.
And worst of all, she knew what 'Integrity 0%' stood for. In human
terms, flatline.

Almost immediately she started to type, she refused to let herself
consider what all this meant for Michael, she silently prayed that he
was okay. But there was nothing she could do until she knew where they
were. At the command prompt she simply typed 'reboot system'. That
should have brought the system back on line; the last time they had
managed to salvage eighty percent of the database at this early stage.
This time, the display stopped at 30%. Holding back the panic, Bonnie
typed 'display location'. Moments later she contacted the emergency
services and got the mobile trailer unit on the move.

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight that awaited them.)

**

Finally the house came into view. Set back from the road, the old
Tudor-style building had a short open driveway, leading up along the
side of the house to where a large garage could just be seen. Michael
swung the heavy car onto the gravel drive and continued up past the
house, through the open doors of the garage. It was a large, damp
building, dimly lit, save for the desk lamps on the work-tops that had
obviously become the makeshift lab. Opposite, at the far end, Michael
could see the mobile unit backed up against a second set of doors. The
trailer's back was open and its ramp down. He knew what that meant, and
he was almost too frightened to look. To the other side of the garage
stood the covered wreck of his car, a dirty grey tarpaulin hiding the
damage. He sighed, fighting back the tears of exhaustion and despair,
and clambered out of the sedan. Every part of him ached.

"Michael!" He turned and smiled a sad smile as Bonnie came from the
back door of the house towards him. "Are you all right?"
He nodded, and motioned to the makeshift lab, electronic equipment
spreading out to take up most of the floor area over to the left-hand
side. "Nice set-up, I didn't think they left anything intact."
She shrugged, frowning. "It's all I could salvage, plus the stuff we
had in the trailer." She turned to look up at him, emotions clear in
her expression. "I don't know if it's going to be enough." She took a
deep breath and looked passed him, through into the passenger window of
the car. "How's he doing?"
Michael's gaze fell on the casing on the front seat. "Not good."
Bonnie fought back more tears as she opened the car door and watched as

Michael bent to pick up the black box, about the size of a modern VCR,
and about the same weight. She led him over to a workbench in the midst
of the lab equipment. Clearing a laptop out of the way, Michael gently
set the casing down.

As he backed away to give Bonnie more room, a mug of steaming coffee
was pushed into his hand. "Devon..."
The older man, who had appeared at his shoulder, smiled gently at him,
encouraging. "Drink it. It may help compensate for the sleep you're
not going to get."
Michael nodded and smiled gratefully. "So," he tried for some
semblance of a normal conversation, "why haven't I seen this place
before?"
Devon Miles shrugged, sipping from his own mug. "Wilton always
suggested we keep this location secret, just in case. I always wondered
just in case of what? Now I know."
"Who's doing all this Devon. Who would want to hurt us like this?"
Devon shook his head, helplessness clouding his stark features. "In
honesty, I suppose there must be a very long list." He took in
Michael's almost desperate expression, knowing the journey up here could
not have been easy for him. "I wish I knew," he said finally.
Michael's eyes settled back on the black casing that was rapidly
disappearing beneath a varied collection of wires. "So do I," he
breathed.

Bonnie was ignoring the talk behind her. Within seconds she had
removed the crumpled lid from battered casing and was starting to wire
up the monitors, switching them all on one by one to the tune of the
same weak pulse each time. Finally she hooked in the laptop and hit
return. It asked her for the alphanumeric access code and she keyed it
in without thinking.

ACCESS GRANTED : DATABASE INTEGRITY AT 30.25% : SYSTEM INTEGRITY AT
12.72%
backup status
LAST SYSTEM BACKUP : CEEPS 17:58 20.07

Bonnie frowned. A backup had been taken at the time just before the
system crash, but she was not certain what CEEPS meant. Sighing,
feeling the eyes of the two men behind her on her back, she reached
again for the laptop.

backup integrity
BACKUP INTEGRITY AT 34.05%

That was not good. She could feel the emptiness inside her growing
like a black hole. A quiet whimper from next to her rung in her ears as
the desperate cry for help that it was.
"I know," she spoke quietly, her words directed at the mangled circuit
boards contained within the casing Michael had so lovingly brought
here. "I know you're in pain, Kitt. I promise I'll make it all go
away, just give me another minute, okay?"

set system recovery
SYSTEM RECOVERY SET : RESTART REQUIRED
_

She looked behind her, at Michael and Devon watching her with expectant
hope. "Look, I know you're worried, but this is going to take some
time. There's nothing you can do now, you've done all you can for
him." She tried to keep the concern from her voice, striking for
tenderness, understanding the knife-edge that Michael's emotions at
least were balancing on. "I have to shut the system down, and try to
restart it." She took a deep breath, meeting Michael's hopeful gaze.
"I'm not going to lie to you, I don't know if there's enough data left
to bring Kitt back. Our Kitt may no longer be there."
Michael reached a shaky hand out and gently touched the casing, rubbing
his thumb back and forth, not for Kitt, but for himself. "See you soon,

Partner."
Bonnie's eyes fell to the floor, as she heard Devon whisper,
"goodbye,", and lead Michael back out of the garage and into the house.

As they stepped out into the falling rain, Devon squeezed the bridge of
his nose, trying to ease the hours-old headache. Michael caught the
gesture through the fog in his own tired brain. "Are you okay?"
Devon tilted his head to gaze at his companion. "Not really,
Michael." He glanced back at the garage. "I've known Kitt from the
moment they first switched him on." He sighed at the memory. "You
know, Wilton never got to know him. He saw the car and the computer
simply as part of the Knight 2000 project, as a means to an end. Kitt
was another expensive toy for Wilton to wave in front of the
authorities. I only wish we'd thought about the consequences. They
weren't very clear back then." He sighed. "I know Kitt still thinks of

Wilton as his... father, in a way."
"I think it's best to leave it that way, Devon." Michael said
quietly. "Kitt regards Wilton as his mentor, his hero. I wouldn't want
to change that."

Devon lost himself in his thoughts for a moment. He, Michael, Bonnie;
they were all looked after in Wilton's will. All except for Kitt. Kitt

needed money spent on him to continue to exist, to thrive, for his
overhauls and updates, to keep the technology on the cutting edge. And
they spent the money without thinking; what choice did they have? If
the funding was ever cut, if the Foundation board ever decided to end
the project, to dismantle Kitt, would he be able to do it? Would that
not be... murder? He shook those thoughts from his head. It was wrong
to be thinking about it now, with Kitt in the grimy mock-up of his lab,
fighting for his life under worse conditions than he ever deserved.

Meeting Michael's puzzled expression with an apologetic one, he said,
"Forgive me, I loved Wilton. But there were so many things we
overlooked...."
Michael smiled, touched. "You surprise me. I never imagined
that you saw Kitt as anything but 'the most expensive car in the
world'." He affectionately mimicked the proud tone Devon had used when
he had first introduced Michael to his new car. "I don't mean to be
rude, but I thought you saw him in terms of money too."
Devon stared despondently at the house in front of them. "I'm
not very good at showing my feelings towards any of you, but especially
towards Kitt. I feel like a father figure to you all, protecting you,
looking after you. I've always imagined that Kitt can look after
himself, at least a lot better than the rest of you can."
"Under normal circumstances I'd agree with you, and Kitt understands
that. You know how he feels about you."
Devon smiled. "Thank you Michael." And he sounded almost wistful when
he added, "I just wish that I had found the time to tell him how much I
cared about him."

Michael knew that he ought to say something comforting, but the
truth was, Kitt may not make it this time. And when was the last time
he had told his partner, his best friend, how much he cared, how he
really felt? When was the last time he had really talked to Kitt, asked
him if everything was okay, if he was happy, if there was anything he
needed? Of course Kitt would have said, yes, everything was fine, no,
there was nothing he needed, and if any of his systems had any problems,
he immediately informed Bonnie anyway. But that was not the point, the
point was that Michael had not asked.
"Come on, Devon," he tried for his best British accent, "let's
get some tea."

*

_

Bonnie took a deep breath. "I'm going to shut you down now, Kitt. The
pain will go away, everything will go away, and I promise I will try to
bring you back." The was a faint sound as Kitt tried to tell her
something, although he had been way beyond talking for a long time.
Bonnie wiped a tear from her eye. "I love you, Kitt."

shutdown
SYSTEM WILL SHUTDOWN IN 30 SECONDS

As she waited, she watched as words appeared on the screen without
being typed.

goodbye bonnie

SYSTEM SHUTTING DOWN NOW

It took several minutes for the shutdown to complete, and it should
have taken several more for the system to restart. But when the laptop
beeped at her, she saw only the extensive list of hardware problems that
needed her immediate attention before there was even a chance of getting
Kitt back.

Five hours later the rain had stopped, and Bonnie had not noticed the
distinct drop in temperature. Michael had been out several times with
coffee, buttered toast and finally two sweaters, and a heater that he
had found in the attic. He had questioned Devon about where he had
found an open store in the middle of the night. Devon had left at just
after two am and returned less than an hour later with enough supplies
to keep them going for several weeks. Sometimes their boss could pull
miracles when they really needed him to.

She had replaced all the circuit boards that had required replacing.
Sitting waiting for the system to restart was the longest few minutes of
Bonnie's life. She watched the laptop, remembering the day Kitt was
switched on, remembering the first words he had spoken to her as she had
sat face to face with the microprocessor in Wilton Knight's lab. She
had never heard him talk before, she interacted with him using the
keyboard and screen, but to finally hear that soft Boston accent had
been wonderful. He had told her that it was nice to hear her voice for
the first time.

She had nurtured Kitt through a difficult first few weeks, teaching him
how to interact with humans, teaching him about himself, giving him
purpose and ambition. He was self-aware from the beginning, but sadly
also aware of his presumed role in society.

From the start, when Michael treated him like so badly, Kitt was polite
and obeyed orders. Only later did he start to put up a fight and give
as good as he got until Michael realized that Kitt was much, much more
than just the microprocessor that controlled the flashy Trans-Am.

Her thoughts wondered back to the night after Michael had taken off
from the Foundation, the day of Wilton's funeral. Kitt had contacted
her from the parking lot of Michael's hotel. She had been sitting up in
the lab worrying about Kitt, and wondering why Michael had not called
in. It had been a relief to hear the announcement chime of the
communications unit, but Kitt's stressed voice had nearly broken her
heart. He and Michael were not getting along, Michael had threatened to
have him disconnected, had told him to 'shut up' on several occasions
and currently he was not supposed to talk. Kitt had asked her over and
over what he had done wrong, what he could have said to offend the one
man in the world he was configured for. Bonnie had never felt hatred
towards one person so much in her life. Knight had taken off with their
car, her baby, without a word of thanks, and now he was treating Kitt
like the computer was nothing but circuitry and bubble chips.

And she recalled seeing Kitt finally drive up into the mobile unit
several agonizing days later. He had a dent in his hide, but was a lot
happier than he had sounded that first night, and had already formed a
special bond with his driver.

Through the years, Kitt had proved himself to them where he really had
never needed to. He had become a friend to all of them, and to Michael
he was a partner, a brother, a best friend, a father and a son. He was
Michael's life, and Bonnie could only guess at the effect that the loss
of Kitt would have on him, the effect that it would have on all of them.

The laptop beeped once. The system restart was complete. The data,
whatever data had been rebuilt by the retrieval program, had been
loaded. All Bonnie had to do was run the program that would initialize
the system and lockout the external access once more, handing control
back to Kitt, as long as the database and systems were intact.

SYSTEM READY... WAITING
kitt
RUNNING PROGRAM KITT... PROGRAM ABORTED

Bonnie hated this. It just felt so impersonal, typing words into a
laptop, words on which a life depended. Kitt amounted to more than a
complex computer program, he was her friend.

kitt integrity
KITT INTEGRITY AT 14.55%
_

Her breath locked in her throat. Fourteen and a half percent?

rebuild database kitt $MAINBASE
REBUILDING KITT......... REBUILD COMPLETED
kitt
RUNNING PROGRAM KITT... PROGRAM ABORTED

Bonnie realized her hands were shaking. Not that it was warm in the
garage, even with the heater, but it did not matter. Nothing mattered
expect the words on the screen, and they were telling her, over and
over, in varying ways, that Kitt was gone. There was no recovering him
this time.

kitt integrity
KITT INTEGRITY AT 14.55%

Again, she tried rebuilding the main database, but the program still
aborted, the system still could not boot. Just as she was about to try
again, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. "Let him go, Bonnie,
you've done everything you can." Devon's voice was gentle, pushing the
truth of his words through to her.
Her hands dropped from the keyboard and her tears started to fall.
"I've failed him," she whispered. "I can't revive him. There's just
not enough left."
"You did everything you could do, he would be proud of you."
"But I can't get him back...." As her quiet tears turned to bitter
sobs, Devon crouched down to hold her. She had been there from the
start, taught Kitt everything about the world they had brought him
into. She had been a teacher, a mother and a friend. Kitt had always
thought the world of her.

Devon let his eyes wonder to the electronics on the work-top. It was
all beyond him, he looked after the legal and financial side, left the
practical running of the Knight 2000 project to Bonnie and her team.
That had been Wilton Knight's dream, that was the fantasy they had all
helped keep alive. But in the midst of all the planning and revenge
seeking, they had brought a life into the world. That had been the real
truth. They had created a life, without giving it a second thought,
albeit without ever meaning to, and now they had to deal with the
consequences. The Knight 2000 project had proved to be more of a
success than Wilton could have ever imagined it would be. But as Devon
had started seeing Kitt for the first time through Michael's eyes, he
had seen the innocence and naivete of a child. Wilton's child. A child
the man had never wanted, and never cared about.

Devon caught himself and derailed his train of thought. Those were
late night fancies that had no place here. No use blaming anyone now.
"He's dead." Two softly spoken words that he needed clarifying before
they went on from this moment.
He felt Bonnie nod against him, before she slowly pulled away.
"Where's Michael?"
Devon watched her wipe her eyes and nose with the sleeve of the jumper
Michael had dug up for her earlier, when there had at least been hope.
"I left him sleeping in the living room. He was exhausted, and I'm
still not convinced that he's in perfect health after the attack."
"One of the paramedics said that he may have sustained a concussion
when he hit the ground. They wanted to keep him in over night, but
Michael refused to even go to the hospital. I'm not sure it's good for
him to sleep." She took a deep breath, she could barely remember what
day it was, never mind her first aid.
"Would you like me to tell him?"
Bonnie smiled up at her boss. "Thanks Devon, but no, I think it ought
to come from me."
He nodded. "I'll be inside if you need me."

Silence fell as she heard the back door close once more. She was
alone. She could not ever remember it being this quiet. It seemed like
there had been some background noise; a quiet humming of the systems in
the mobile unit, or in the lab, the coming and going of Foundation staff
as they worked. When Kitt had been around, there was always the
familiar, calming tracking of his scanner; almost permanently alive over
the past few years, searching out Michael's heartbeat amidst the
constant noise. Even at nights there had been activity, people working
late, always some programmers and technicians who preferred working in
the dark hours.

But now there was nothing. Under its dirty cover, Kitt's scanner was
dark and silent. Before her, the small, triple-columned voice panel
that had become the basis for the visual reference for Kitt, was just a
piece of electronic junk. She could run a current through it,
illuminate the lights once more, but the soul was gone from their
creation. It was not to be brought back this time.

"Bonnie?"
She felt her heart sink, and turned to see Michael coming into the
garage. Quietly, she stood and simply let him walk up to the bench at
which she had been sitting. Michael's eyes moved from the words on the
screen to the dead circuitry next to it, and finally his hopeful gaze
came to rest with Bonnie's. She simply shook her head, no words were
needed, the truth was written all over her face. Her tears began again
as she watched Michael rest his palm against the side of the casing, he
opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out.

At that moment, the world stopped turning. Michael found he could
barely breathe, but he had to ask. "Are you sure?"
Bonnie nodded slowly. "Michael...." She took him by the arm, turning
him from the computer screen, from the lifeless form of his partner.
She gathered him into her arms as his exhaustion, disbelief and profound
sadness erupted into heart-wrenching sobs. Kitt was deep in their
thoughts, painfully etched into their hearts, and his sparkle would be
more than missed. Life was never going to be the same again.

From the kitchen window, Devon watched Bonnie lead Michael away from
the garage. Closing his eyes, he whispered a little prayer.

**

Feeling nothing but an anguish he thought may never end, Michael looked
up at the moon as if it could provide the answers he needed. All Bonnie
could do now was be there for him, because she had not been there in
time for Kitt. She knew she would never forgive herself for failing
him. So many times they had relied on him, and he had come through for
them. This once, when he had turned to them, helpless and desperate,
they had not been able to pull off the miracle he had needed.

"I keep thinking about it... keep thinking over what happened... what I
could have done to stop it from happening."
"Don't, Michael, you did what you'd done a thousand times before....
There was no way you could have known what was waiting...."
He smiled, meeting her sad eyes, gently taking her hand. "I wish you
would take your own advice. I know you're blaming yourself." His words
were spoken softly, admonishing any blame she thought she deserved.

They walked on in silence, neither wanting to think, but both lost in
memories. Michael did not try to stop the tears streaming down his
face. What the hell was left without Kitt? He had lost too many
people. He had believed that he was safe with Kitt; that he could not
get emotionally involved with a computer. But the microprocessor had
grown, developed along with Michael Knight as he had left Michael Long
behind and begun again. Kitt had been there from the start of this new
life, putting up with more than any person would have.

Uselessly, Michael wiped the tears from his eyes, but they were only
replaced by more.

So vulnerable in his own way. Their friendship had pushed through the
boundaries that should have held it. A man and his car. But Kitt was
not just the car, that was where he resided, but he could be so much
more. He always strove to be everything he could possibly be. Michael
scoffed silently at his own thoughts; that could be a eulogy to anyone.
Kitt was different. He was special.

There were issues that surfaced with him that were never usually in
contention with any life. There had been the question, not so long ago
of his status on this earth. Should Michael really just be able to
switch him off at the touch of a button? Should Bonnie be able to tap
into his programming, into his _self_ and make adjustments without his
consent? He was self-aware, he was intelligent, and his consciousness
was never in any question. And so all external access to Kitt's systems
had been locked out, handing control to Kitt, and Kitt alone. Any and
all 'off' switches within the car had been disabled and removed. Kitt
was his own boss then, and still he had never left Michael's side.

Sighing, not really ready to handle the memories that were swamping
him, Michael stopped and leant his forehead against the tree blocking
his path. He heard Bonnie come to stand beside him, but for a long time
neither spoke. This was a day he had never expected to have to face.
They had talked a lot about what would happen to Kitt when Michael left
the Foundation, and when he died, or if anything happened to him. He
remembered Kitt's words to him, and now he spoke them quietly in a
choked memorial to his friend.
"'I don't want to be immortal. I want my memory to stay with yours,
and to remain there.'" He took a deep shuddering breath, talking but
not caring if anyone was listening. "He told me that one night. He
said that if it was to be his choice, he wanted to live his life with
his friends, and leave behind a memory. He said there was no punishment
worse than immortality. He couldn't think of anything worse than
knowing that he would have to live on without the people he loved."
Michael uselessly kicked at the base of the thick trunk, feeling anger
settling in beside his grief. "I never for one moment imagined that I
would be mourning him."

Bonnie stayed silent. What could she say? That Kitt had had a good
long life? She swallowed back the bitter sob; he was seven years old.
No one should ever have to outlive their son....

bleep

She thought back on those seven years. The wonder Kitt had brought
into their lives had been immeasurable, over the time she had worked
with him, looking after him while he looked after Michael. She had
learnt as much from him, as he had from her. "It was a pleasure working
with you." She whispered the words so quietly that even Michael stood
next to her did not hear, but then, he was lost in his own thoughts.

bleep

Whoever did this had known what they were doing. They had blocked the
road suddenly, forced Kitt into the air above them, fired miniature
anti-tank missiles up into the underside of the car in rapid
succession. They had blown the suspension, the drive, the engine, and
Kitt, straight to hell.

bleep

Where was that noise coming from? She looked around her, and then to
her own digital watch ready to switch off any alarm she might have set
and then forgotten about. But her watch was simply telling the time, no
flashing lights, no beeping.... She made such a sudden grab for
Michael's wrist that he nearly lost balance on the one foot he was
standing on, the other pushed up against the tree.
"What?"
"Michael, it's your comlink...."
They both stared at it, and waited in silence until it bleeped again.
Out of habit, Michael depressed the two side buttons, raising the tiny
communicator to his mouth. "Kitt?" There was no reply; he had not
really expected one. But there was another bleep, and impossibly it
sounded more urgent this time.

Michael beat Bonnie back into the garage, but only by a moment or two.
He was not certain what he had expected to see, but everything still
looked the same. The battered, lidless casing was silent on the
worktop. Maybe they had imagined it. Maybe they had only heard what
they had both so desperately wanted to hear. But Bonnie could see more
in the set-up than Michael could. She looked to the screen of the
laptop, and instead of the final system integrity value she had brought
up, there was an additional line displayed.

CEEPS running...._

Frowning, ignoring Michael's pleas to know what was happening, she
grabbed one of the meter cables from the back of the bench and attached
the two ends somewhere inside the body of the microprocessor. The
meter's screen flashed into life, displaying a weak, but definitely
existent reading. Michael saw it then; a heartbeat, weak and unsteady,
still desperately fighting for life.

He could not tear his gaze from the tiny screen, but he could tell
Bonnie's expression by the tone of her voice. "He's alive." She
whispered the words as if speaking would break the bubble.
"But how...." Michael looked away then, and saw the words on the
laptop screen. "What's CEEPS?"

***

Ella Jameson dropped her head against the screen and let out a long
groan; nothing ever worked on Fridays. It was as if her computer knew
it was Friday and was looking forward to the weekend as much as she was.

"Ella!" She answered with a second groan and without lifting her
head. "Call on line four."
She swore. "I've told Tony four times today; he has to set the MIDGE
environment variable else it won't work."
Her colleague shook her head; "You know he only phones you because he's
in love with your voice. Besides, I don't think it's Tony."
Ella frowned at Cassie's tone. "Who is it?"
"Just pick up the damn phone, he sounds important. And rich."
Ella reached over and retrieved her phone from under the masses of
paperwork. 'Paperless office' did not even come close to describing the

R&D offices of RDA. "Ella."
"Ella Jameson?"
She sat up; the straight English accent most certainly did not belong
to one of their engineers. "Speaking."
"Am I right in thinking that you wrote the C.E.E.P.S. emergency backup
program?"
She thought about it. "Quite a while ago." Her suspicious mind was
working overtime, as far as she knew, CEEPS was an untested, fairly
complicated program. She had written it for a friend who'd been working
on a project he had insisted he could not talk about. "Who is this?"
"My name is Devon Miles. I'm Senior Director of the Foundation for Law
and Government."
Now that sounded familiar. "CEEPS stands for Central Emergency Export
and Protection System." Ella explained carefully. "The idea was that
when the integrity of a given system fell beneath certain specified
parameters, the program automatically backed everything up to a remote
storage facility, then once it was safe it would restore the backup.
But listen, as far as I know nothing was tested, I'm not even sure the
program runs. I didn't know it was installed anywhere."
"It's most definitely installed, Miss Jameson, and it seems to be
running at the moment...." Ella could not help but curse all users.
"So... we were wondering how much you liked the idea of a site visit?"
"Oh no, not this weekend, I have plans. It'll have to be Monday."
"I'm afraid Monday may be too late. The system we're trying to recover
is of utmost importance. You may say, we're in a life and death
situation."
"Look, Mr. Miles, as I said, I wrote the code years ago, unless someone
went through it with a fine tooth comb, you'll be lucky if it actually
works at all. The idea itself was far-fetched."
"Miss Jameson, I assure you that the software would have been
thoroughly tested before being installed. Testing for this particular
system was rigorous and exhaustive. There are no bugs in this system."
Ella chuckled, "So how come it crashed?"
When the reply came back, she could have sworn the man on the other end
of the phone was struggling not to cry. Maybe he had just lost all the
company data. She could not help but smile, users should not ever be
allowed near computer systems.

"It didn't crash," Devon said with rapidly draining patience. "It was
attacked. And we need you to ensure that the recovery is a complete
success." His eyes locked with Michael's angry stare. From the side of
the phone call that Michael was witnessing, the engineer on the other
end was being less than helpful, and his partner's life was hanging in
the balance.

Ella rocked back in her chair, slightly more sympathetic now. "I'm
going to have to look through the code, it's been so long..."
"There's a Lear jet standing by at the airport. A Carl Smyth will meet
you and make you comfortable. I suggest you load all you need from
there onto a laptop, we can provide everything else."
She sighed, resigned to the fact that she was not going skiing with
Cassie and Gavin this weekend. Maybe it was for the best. She could
not ski anyway, and three was always a crowd, no matter what Cassie kept
insisting, or what she kept insinuating about the ski instructors....
"All right Mr. Miles, I'll be at the airport in an hour."

Ella was not amused. Spending the weekend on site because a user was
having problems was one thing, but flying out to some unspecified place
in Canada was another. It was freezing up there. 'Carl' had met her at
the airport as promised, and shown her up into a black and gold Lear
jet, very executive and very expensive. He had made her comfortable,
given her a drink and she had just sampled the best food she had ever
tasted at 25,000 feet. But Carl had avoided answering any questions
about anything, and she was still none the wiser about where she was
going. So she sat on the plane, reading through the program code on her
laptop and letting her imagination run wild. Maybe it was some
government organization that had built some secret weapon and then had
it stolen. Maybe they had crashed the system on purpose to stop the bad
guys using the weapon, and now they could not retrieve any of their
data. She felt like someone trapped in a James Bond movie.

It had been almost eight years since she had written the CEEPS
program. The code was uncommented and practically unreadable, she hoped
to God that it was not full of bugs.

**

Outside the garage, the rain continued to fall. Michael could see the
drops illuminated by the light over the back door into the house. The
heater was woefully inadequate for the size of the garage, and the fact
they had both sets of doors open did not help matters. But neither
Michael nor Bonnie had any thought of leaving Kitt alone out here,
whether he was aware or not.

Bonnie had settled in a dusty armchair that she had uncovered in the
back of the garage. Michael was pacing, every so often stopping in
front of the work bench to check the unchanging words on the laptop, and
to gently touch the casing containing the fragile being of his friend.
Finally, as if he realized he was driving Bonnie insane, he moved over
to the covered form of the Knight 2000. He pulled back the tarpaulin
and reached into the twisted, partially opened window. Stretching down
into the door compartment, he at last found what he was looking for and
re-covered the car. With a deep sigh, he manoeuvred himself onto the
hood, covering his black jeans with dust and grime. Gazing down at the
scrunched up pack of cigarettes in his fingers, he fished out one of the
few surviving lengths, and untucked the book of matches from inside the
box.

Bonnie watched Michael light the cigarette and take a long drag from
it. She was surprised. She had never seen him smoke before, had not
even realized that he did. But there was no way she was going to
lecture him, in fact she almost asked him for a drag herself. Idly she
wondered if Kitt knew, and if he did what he had had to say about it.
The thought made her smile.

This waiting was awful. Devon had contacted the woman who had written
the backup program, if that was what it actually was, and she was on her
way. But the hours that it was taking for her to get there were ticking
passed with agonizing slowness. And Bonnie was feeling fiercely
protective. She hated the thought that Kitt's systems even contained a
program she did not know about, never mind the fact that it was
currently acting as life support.

Pulling the sleeves of his sweater further down, over his hands, until
only his finger tips, and the glowing end of the cigarette were visible,

Michael gazed over at Bonnie. "I love him, you know."

His words surprised her, and she stared at him, still getting used to
the odd sight of him smoking, but all too aware of the obvious calming
effect it was having on his nerves. Finally she gave in. She heaved
herself gracefully out of her chair and crossed the garage floor to
where he was sitting, perched on the wreckage of his car. She reached
out two fingers and his eyebrows heightened, but he said nothing. He
simply dug the pack back out of his jacket and reached up to gently
place the cigarette between her lips. Graciously, he also lit it for
her, and watched with the same surprise as she had watched him. Bonnie
nodded her thanks and returned to her chair.

"You could tell him once in a while." She answered eventually.
Despite the time that had passed, Michael knew what she was referring
to. It was almost laughable. Two intelligent adults, sitting apart in
a freezing cold garage, on an isolated estate, somewhere in Canada that
had very harsh winters, their worry over a computer having lead them
both back into an old bad habit. It would have been laughable. But the
computer was the best friend he had ever had, was the closest person in
the world to him, was his saviour and his confidant, and was the one
thing he could not stand to lose.

"I do tell him." Michael murmured. "I tell him how much he means to
me, how much I care. It's difficult to know whether or not he believes
me. He's always putting himself down to the level of a mere computer."
He took another long drag. "At least he's finally stopped insisting
that he doesn't have feelings."

Bonnie sighed. Her eyes wondered again to the black casing, the
darkened pattern of diodes that would blink when Kitt talked. The same
pattern, only a larger form, had been used inside the car as a visual
point of reference. It had become Kitt's face, his mouth, she was not
sure what, but it beat talking to an entire dash. In her mind she could
still hear that beautiful smooth Boston accent, sometimes so very
different from when he was holding a normal conversation.

She remembered back to a very early time, late one night, Michael
having abandoned him once more to spend the night with some woman.
Bonnie had taken Kitt out, found some place quiet, opened the sunroof
and pushed back the seat. The stars had been so perfectly clear; the
fresh chill of the still night and the hugging warmth of the car had the
same effect as alcohol on her tired brain. She and Kitt had been
talking, she could not remember what about, it did not matter. But he
had said something that had penetrated her wondering thoughts, something
she would remember and work on for a very long time.

("Bonnie, why do people do that?"
"Umm, Kitt? Do what?" She felt too comfortable to move, too relaxed
to open her eyes, and the gentle feel of the soft grey leather interior
felt good under her fingers.
"Stroke me like that."
His words awoke her mind and her imagination for just a moment, and it
was one moment too long. But she did not stop her fingers moving back
and forth on the leather just inside the window where her arm and hand
were rested.
"You feel good, Kitt," was all she said.
And he only replied, "So do you, Bonnie.")

Whatever had passed between them that night had never been talked
about, and never been forgotten. She remembered Michael remarking, a
few days later, that Kitt had been quieter than usual, and whether she
knew if there was anything up. She had snapped at him, assuring him
that the systems were just fine. But Michael had stopped her, shaking
his head and saying that he had not meant the systems. He had meant
Kitt, his partner. Whether there was something Kitt might have
mentioned to Bonnie because they still were not getting along too well.
It had been a slow, but encouraging start toward her and Michael's
friendship.

Michael shivered, and glanced down at his watch. It read 02:17. But
he did not see the time. He only saw his link to Kitt. He gently drew
two fingers over the tiny screen. Bonnie watched him from the other
side of the garage. "Have you ever, actually said those three little
words to him?"

Michael dropped the butt of his cigarette to the garage floor and
momentarily dropped down to stamp it out. Settling himself back on the
car, he pulled aimlessly at his sleeves, picking at a small thread that
he had gradually worked loose over the years. He had never said it.
There had always been the next time, tomorrow, 'next time he gets shaken
by something', was Kitt ever shaken? Had there ever been a right time
to tell his friend exactly how deep his feelings ran?

Michael reproached himself, of course there had been. More times than
he cared to remember. Times when Kitt had saved his life, times when
the microprocessor's lightening reactions had gotten them out of
situations no human action could ever have done. And the flip side,
when Kitt had been the vulnerable one, after his dip in the industrial
acid, or his near-fatal encounter with the tank in Chicago. Times when
Kitt had had his own confidence shattered and had needed Michael's
reassurance that he could go back out there and face the dangers. Not
once had he told him.

But Kitt had said it to Michael. Taught about emotions by a computer,
now that was something to be ashamed of. Kitt had found the right
time. Sabotaged by a young woman working for Knight Industries as a
technician, Kitt had been taken, and used, against his own free will, to
kill. At the end, they had come face to face, Kitt ordered to crush his
former driver under merciless wheels. But as Michael had stood there,
pleading with Kitt not to do it, trying to get through to him, Kitt had
made a leap of faith. He had stopped short of Michael, crashing through
his own programming, his own forced constraints, to reach a new level of
consciousness, to find his self. To find his soul.

(Instead of mowing him down, the Trans-Am stopped inches from him, its
engine purring in sorrow, its driver's side door clicking softly open.
He had once believed that nothing could be more painful than a gunshot
in the face. Until this had happened, and each hour that passed caused
another crack in his heart. Now it was over.
Unable to stop the flood of tears of relief and pride, Michael climbed
into his car, allowing the door to close. He wrapped his arms around
the steering wheel, hugging Kitt in the only way he knew how, knowing
the nightmare was finally over for them both. He cried himself out,
only later noticing the darkened windows; Kitt had made this a private
moment only between the two of them, and for no other witnesses.
The car sat absolutely still amidst the frantic, angered activity
around it. Kitt had pushed the temperature up slightly in the only way
he knew how to return Michael's gesture. And when he finally managed to
speak, to Michael the usually light voice sounded quiet and choked. "I
am so sorry...." He broke off as if unable to continue.
"It's okay," Michael tried to reassure, "it wasn't your fault Kitt,
it's okay."
"But I... I tried.... I could have killed...."
"Ssh, Pal, it's over, we're both gonna be okay. It's all over."
There was a long silence, both just trying to adjust to what had
occurred, to what Kitt had been used to do, to what it meant, to the
long path that lay ahead for them, a path Michael swore Kitt would not
travel alone. And then he heard four simple words, the first time he
had heard Kitt whisper. "I love you, Michael.")

Why had he not just said it back? Kitt had never needed to hear it so
badly in his entire life. He had not left Kitt's side through the days
and weeks that followed. Through the recriminations and the tests, the
alterations to his systems and improvements to his security, questions
about his loyalty, doubts about his abilities, Michael had been there.
He had spent night after night sleeping in the car, reassuring Kitt at
every juncture that they were going to get through it, that no one was
going to harm him and no one was going to split them up. Not once,
through all the pain and the fear, had he told Kitt that he loved him.
And he did. Very much. Kitt was his life, his world, so why could he
not just say it?

Tears started to trail down Michael's face, silently dripping on to his
sleeves.
"Michael...." Bonnie was at his side in an instant, her arms enfolding
him in warmth and love as his tears turned to sobs. She held him tight,
gently rocking him, quieting him, comforting as best she could when her
own heart was aching to let go as he had. After a very long time, he
calmed, pulling away to unceremoniously wipe his nose on his sleeve. He
looked up at Bonnie with desperation clear in his eyes.

beep

Both turned. Bonnie moved quickly to the laptop.

CEEPS RECOVERY COMPLETE... SYSTEM READY

Bonnie caught her breath. Behind her, Michael asked, "Can we just...
switch it on?"
Bonnie shook her head. "You have to initiate the program." Dropping
her fingers onto the keyboard, she started to type.

kitt integrity
KITT INTEGRITY 100%

"My God...."

kitt
_

Neither breathed. The cursor flashed at the prompt for several long
seconds before...

RUNNING PROGRAM KITT..... PROGRAM INITIATING.....

There was another long wait. Bonnie felt Michael reach down and take
her hand. She squeezed his fingers in return.

RUNNING PROGRAM KITT..... PROGRAM INITIATING...............
EXTERNAL ACCESS LOCKOUT INITIATED.....

Bonnie let out a deep breath and reached over to the back of the
casing. Touching the switch she mentally said a quick prayer before
applying gentle pressure.

There was a silence that seemed to stretch forever, as data and input
flooded into Kitt's circuits and he suddenly found himself dealing with
the attack all over again. Seconds later, the voice panel on the front
of the casing went berserk.
"Kitt?"
There was more frantic wracking of the correlated three-columned panel.

"Can he hear us? Should he be able to talk?" Michael had stepped
around her and rested his hand against the side of the casing, wanting
desperately to calm his obviously distressed partner.
"Yes... He should be able to hear us and talk to us."
"Kitt, c'mon buddy, talk to me, tell me you're okay."
Again the voice panel went crazy. Bonnie could recognize panic when
she saw it. "Okay Kitt, use the screen. Can you get to the laptop?"
There was a pause as Kitt found the link to the small computer next to
him.

bonnie is michael all right
_

"Kitt, can you hear us? Michael's fine. He's right here."

michael i hear you bonnie cant talk

"All right Kitt. Just listen to me. Your systems were backed up
somehow, by a program we don't understand. The program's writer is on
her way here so I'm sure she'll be able to find the problem and put it
right." She took a deep, calming breath. "You're going to be fine,
Kitt. We just have to wait."

thank you bonnie

"Kitt?"

michael are you all right im sorry about the accident

"I'm fine. Don't worry about the accident. We were attacked, Pal,
we'll get them, I promise. For now you just have to relax and get
better for us."

michael im scared

Michael felt the tears start over again. "I know, Kitt." He wiped his
eyes with his fingers. "It's gonna be okay, Pal. We're here for you.
We'll look after you now." He moved over to the keyboard, and Bonnie
watched him type.

I love you Kitt
thank you michael

In the darkness of the circuitry, a single image flashed from memory,
caught up in a burst as data moved through the system. For a moment,
that image was captured in the CPU buffer, and for that moment, Kitt was
gripped by fear. As he had been when he had first seen that image, not
so very long ago.

**

Ella stepped off the plane to the season's first sprinkling of snow.
Devon met her himself. They had not had time to work out who they could
still trust from the Foundation's staff. They were sure that whoever
had planned the attack on Michael and Kitt had had inside information
about the car's few weak points. With Kitt's life depending on the only
equipment they had left, with the whole project so open and vulnerable,
Devon did not want to involve anyone he did not have to. Not yet
anyway.

He greeted her over the noise of the jet. "Miss Jameson, thank you for
coming."
Ella frowned at him, pulling her coat closer around her in the freezing
cold. "People tell me that the Foundation's based in California, Mr.
Miles. What the hell are you doing out here?"
"As I explained on the phone, Miss Jameson, we've experienced a
crisis. We really do need your expertise."
Through the calm, polite, business-like exterior, Devon's desperation
was clear to Ella, and she simply nodded, leading the short way to the
car parked on the airstrip.

Ella had done some checking up on Devon Miles and Knight Industries
before she had left. She had rung a couple of friends, getting all the
information she could in the short time that she had. Founded by Wilton
Knight, the company had many interests, making billions of dollars
profit a year. Nothing even remotely suspicious went on at the company,
everything legal and above board. Then there was the Foundation for Law
and Government. Funded partly by money from Knight Industries, it
specialized in legal work, wrangling long and complicated cases that
would not otherwise see the inside of a courtroom.

But there was a small offshoot from the Foundation, something two of
her friends had mentioned but had no details on; the Knight 2000
project. Tom had said something like, 'one man and one car'. Beth had
told her that she had heard of something strange happening in California
a few years back. Some guy turning up from nowhere and solving some
problems in Silicon Valley, driving a car that survived a Demolition
Derby without a scratch. But she could not find anything more out about
it.

She watched the countryside slip by, beautiful views of mountains and
woodland. Devon was quiet, lost in thought. "Mr. Miles, there are a
few things I need to know."
"Of course, our chief technician is waiting for you in the lab."
That was the only thing she managed to get from Devon, and she was
relieved when they finally turned into a long gravel driveway.

It was still snowing lightly, but the sun was coming up as he killed
the engine and got out. Something told Ella that if she had waited he
would have opened the door for her, but she did not wait. She pushed
the door and stepped out of the car. Trees surrounded the estate; a
beautiful setting for a beautiful house.
"This place is fantastic," she breathed, real awe in her voice. Devon
allowed himself a smile of pride. "I was expecting a warehouse or some
office block."
"If you'd follow me."

Devon led her around the back to the garage, and stepped inside.
Michael was sitting up on the workbench, next to the casing, smoking.
Bonnie was in the chair, fast asleep, covered with blankets. Michael
looked up when Devon approached. "Michael, this is Ella Jameson."
He nodded, "The writer of the backup program?" He stretched out his
hand, and Ella shook it. He was freezing. The whole garage was
freezing. What kind of place was this to keep a crucial system?
Michael slid off the bench and gently shook Bonnie. "C'mon Sleeping
Beauty, your heroine is here."

Bonnie opened her eyes and was immediately on her feet, all business.
Ella was impressed; it took a hot shower and two mugs of strong coffee
for her to make that transformation in the mornings. "Miss Jameson."
"Ella, please." They shook hands. "This isn't exactly what I was
expecting...."
"What were you expecting?"
Ella frowned. "I'm not sure. A computer lab perhaps? Lots of
scientists in white coats running around and panicking, coffee?"
"Now that one we can do." Devon disappeared towards the house.
Bonnie gave her a strangely forced smile. "This isn't what any of us
expected, and it's not what we're used to. What can you tell us about
the CEEPS program?"
"It's a Central Emergency Export and Protection program. When certain
parameters are attained within the system status, the entire system is
backed up to a remote location. When it's safe to do so, the recovery
will start automatically back into the original store."
"Well, it does seem to have done exactly that, only, there seems to be
a problem."
"If you could point me in the direction of the system?"

Bonnie stepped aside to reveal the casing and the laptop. Ella's face
fell. "Hang on a minute. When Mr. Miles called he said it was an
emergency, a critical system. What is that?"
Bonnie sighed. She was tired and upset. She strode over to the body
of the car and grabbed the end of the tarpaulin, yanking it back as she
stepped away. "That system lives in this car. It's the integral part
of the Knight 2000 project." Ella stared at what was once an obviously
magnificent vehicle. "The system is in that casing there." She pointed
to Kitt. "It's the most complicated, expensive, intelligent computer in
the world. Its primary components are AI neural nets that have
progressed further than any other AI machine known about." She walked
back slowly. "The recovery of the system seems to have worked except
for the voice circuits."
Ella took all of this in. "It talks?" She asked finally.

Michael shook his head. If he had a dime for every time someone had
asked.... "Yes, _he_ talks. He's currently speaking to us using the
laptop."
Ella had heard enough. She sat down hard on the arm of the chair
Bonnie had been sleeping in. This was nuts. A freezing cold garage
with computers and system monitors everywhere, a wrecked car, and a
laptop that these people claimed was being used to.... She looked up to
the screen and her thoughts stopped suddenly. Could this really be
happening?

Devon returned with a pot of freshly brewed coffee, and a mug for
Ella. "How is he?"
"He's okay," Michael said gently, knowing how fraught Devon's emotions
were right now, however well he hid them, and constantly aware that Kitt
was listening to every word with his own brand of scrutiny. "He's going
to be fine. Once Ella here sorts out the recovery program."

Ella had moved, pulled the chair up to the workbench and was staring at
the words on the laptop screen. "I need system access." She spoke up
eventually. "I need a password."
Bonnie shook her head, leaning over the keyboard. "It's a bit more
complicated than that. We don't have permissions for access at the
moment."
Ella nodded carefully, "That's why I need a password."
"You don't understand, it's not a case of passwords. External access
is locked out when the program is initiated."
"Why?" Ella did not understand what the hell was going on.
"Protection. Kitt, I need you to release limited external access.
It'll be okay, you're safe."
Ella watched as words appeared on the screen.

i trust you bonnie
LIMITED EXTERNAL ACCESS RELEASED
_

"You'll be able to run system diagnostics and anything else with that
access, if you need to make any changes, you'll need higher level
access, Kitt can give that to us if I ask."
Ella nodded, sighed, bent down and retrieved her own 'Black Daemon'
laptop from her bag, waving the plug in the air as a hint. Michael
immediately picked up on it and found a nearby free socket. While Ella
booted the Black Daemon, she looked up at the three anxious looking
faces. "Look guys, you could all do with some rest. I don't know when
the last time you slept was, but you all looked trounced. If you say
that all I can do is run diagnostics, you know I can't do anything bad,
agreed?"
Bonnie nodded, and that seemed to convince Michael, because he put his
arm around her shoulders and lead her gently back, out of the garage and
into the house. Devon hung back for a moment, looking as if he wanted
to say something, but eventually he just followed the other two.

Ella looked back at the laptop, unable, or maybe unwilling, to fully
understand the meaning of the words written there. Nice system, voice
activated AI controlling what? A car? Was that what Beth and Tom had
been talking about? Although from what Bonnie had shown her of the
Trans-Am, it did not look as if it had been particularly
indestructible. She wondered how much of the system was
voice-activated. "Run database diagnostic, give me the status of all
links within the system."

my database is at full integrity miss jameson

She smiled. Cute. Lap-linking the two small machines, Ella started
the CEEPS diagnostics running on the system that the backup had
recovered. She hoped she could remember how to read the diagnostic
reports that the program created. Devon had left the pot of coffee on
the small table behind her, and downing the first mug, she poured
herself another. She wished that she understood what was happening
here. Her eyes fell on the car, and heaving herself out of the chair,
she walked quietly over to it. Bonnie had left the cover off, and it
did not take careful inspection to see that whatever had hit the car,
had hit from underneath. Ella lifted the crooked hood with some effort,
and caught her breath with surprise. The engine had been mutilated,
pushed up and out, and there was a large empty area at the back. She
surmised, if they were telling her the truth, that the microprocessor on
the workbench would fit in to the gap quite snugly.

The interior had also been devastated, if there had been anyone driving
it when whatever had happened happened, they would not have stood a
chance. But what was interesting, was that despite the damage, the
deformation of the car and the destruction to the interior and the
engine, there seemed to have been no direct damage to the exterior
body-work. The only dents were coming outwards, as if a bomb had
detonated inside the car. So _this_ was the Knight 2000 project. Maybe
there was an attack. If that were true, it would mean that someone did
this on purpose. Why?

Interested, Ella crossed back to the workbench. "Kitt?" She felt so
silly. Why the hell would anyone name a computer?

miss jameson

Ella moved round to the screen. "What happened?"

are you asking about the attack

"Yes."

a truck pulled out of a fork junction coming straight for us there
was no real choice but to go over it as we got airborne i saw the men
on top of the truck with weapons launchers there was no time its
difficult to divert during a jump i ejected michael into the nearby
field i knew there was little chance of us surviving the attack five
missiles penetrated from under the car detonated instantly i lost
control

Ella read the words as they appeared. Somehow she was touched by what
she was seeing. It was the fact that it kept using 'I', like it blamed
itself for what had happened. But how could it? A computer did not
feel blame. What a nightmare place the world would be if your PC
apologized each time it crashed. The thought of the Slave computer from
the sci-fi series 'Blakes7' popped into her mind and she mentally
shivered. But this was different, this was self-awareness being
displayed here.

Her Black Daemon beeped at her, letting her know that the tests were
finished and the reports were ready. It took her a short while to go
through them, and she had to go through them twice. Because no matter
how she interpreted the results, everything was fine. She could not
understand it.

run system diagnostic kitt -compl
KITT INTEGRITY 100%

Confused, she turned back to the Black Daemon.

ceeps -mod voice -compl -rep voice
cat voice

The report file scrolled up the screen. She studied it for half an
hour but there was still nothing to say why the voice module was not
working. Because it was working. Everything said that it was working.
Finally, Ella switched off the Black Daemon and sat back.

"Okay Kitt, would you like to tell me why you're lying?" There was
nothing but silence, yet no words appeared on the screen and Ella knew
she was right. Eventually, although she felt daft saying it, she tried
following an instinct. "You can talk to me Kitt."
There was another lengthy silence, before a low, quiet voice asked,
"How did you know?"

The accent, the tone, the inflections of the voice took her completely
by surprise. She had expected a monotone synthesized voice module,
instead, it was like hearing another person speaking. And it was one of
the most sensual voices she had ever known. Her anger at being dragged
out here finally vanished, replaced by curiosity. "I wrote this code a
long time ago, but even back then I knew what I was doing. Every
diagnostic I run says that the voice module is at 100% integrity."
"I'm sorry."

Ella sat back in the chair, breathing a deep sigh. She caught sight of
the crumpled cigarette box on the workbench, and stretching over she
snagged it between finger and thumb, pulling it towards her, revealing
the tired book of matches next to it. Non-smokers smoking. Kitt really
must be a critical system. Ella smoked when she felt like it. She
thought she was probably addicted, but she hardly ever carried
cigarettes around with her, and she reckoned she craved caffeine more
often than she craved nicotine. She figured it was probably better for
her that way. But at this moment she felt like smoking. None of this
made any sense. If this was the Knight 2000 project, then why the
mock-up lab in the middle of nowhere? The Foundation for Law and
Government was one of the richest organizations in the USA, so why
here? If this was a critical system why was it not being fixed in some
highly secretive lab somewhere, with trained, skilled technicians and
programmers?
"Why did you lie?"

**

Bonnie put the phone down with a sigh of relief. Her head hurt. She
had not slept for going on three days. But the good news was that four
trusted technicians were on their way up with replacement everything for
the Knight 2000. One of them had been excitedly talking about some new
shell, with a new paint job. She had been too tired to listen. She had
told them, whatever, just to bring what they needed and to get up here,
developments were constantly being made for the project. She had chosen
technicians she personally knew and had worked closely with for the
passed few years, people who had been there at the beginning, people who
cared for Kitt. And the fact there they were excited about whatever new
development had been made for the bonded shell gave her extra confidence
that they had had nothing to do with the attack.

She had been thinking about that as she had chosen the people to ring.
It was a sad fact that anyone at the Foundation was open to bribery and
even blackmail. They worked on the edge of technology, at the forefront
of creative imagination, and it was easy to calculate how much their
knowledge was worth. But it was one thing to sell secrets, quite
another to assist in the attack on the flag-ship of the project.
Attempted murder. On two counts.

She replaced the phone onto the desk and finally allowed herself to
relax back in the chair. Across from her, stretched out on the sofa,
Michael was sleeping restlessly. Bonnie watched him. She was intensely
aware of how her feelings for him had changed over the years. Her hated
of him for his treatment of Kitt had dissipated early on, as it became
increasingly obvious that Michael was growing to love Kitt as much as
she did. She knew that she had followed Kitt's lead, allowing the
sentient computer to show her how to respond to Michael, how to accept
him and get along with him. And maybe it was Kitt who had shown her how
to love him. The warmth between the pair seemed infectious whenever
she, or anyone else for that matter, was around them. People had
commented on what a perfect couple they made, and watching Michael with
Kitt, she usually had to agree. Her eyes drifted upwards to the lounge
wall, and she thought of the array of photographs, small and large, that
adorned the walls of the Wilton Knight mansion that played permanent
host to the Foundation.

Photography had always been a hobby of hers, and Devon had specifically
had a darkroom fitted out at the Foundation for her personal use. Last
winter she had taken several shots that she had blown up and framed for
display. One captured perfectly the snow thrown up by Kitt's tyres as
the black car had tried to escape from the cascade of snowballs Michael
had been lobbing. The photo had Kitt's desperate bid for escape on one
side, Michael's triumphant throw which hit the windshield side on, on
the other side. A perfect shot of the two partners playing together.
The second photo was more artificial, but Devon had loved it. She
always thought of it as 'Free Kitt'. Michael and Kitt in the 'Free
Willy' pose; Michael standing, one arm stretched into the air with Kitt
jumping over him, like the whale jumping over the boy in the film
posters. What it did not capture was the fact that Michael had been
laughing hysterically, and Kitt had been egging Bonnie on. A rare
moment indeed when Kitt's impressive capabilities were being used purely
for fun, and he was the one encouraging the play.

She carried a small copy of the snowball fight shot in her purse. The
two people she loved most in all the world. Sometimes she wondered
about telling Michael how she felt about him. She knew he would never
marry, never do anything that would jeopardize his relationship with
Kitt. He had told her one night that he had taken on that
responsibility, as they all had. They had brought a life into this
world when they had created Kitt, and Michael for one was not ever going
to abandon that life. Maybe that had been the moment she had truly
fallen in love with him, because she had known then that it was okay to,
that her Kitt would be all right whatever happened. She was not looking
for marriage, she had never seen herself as the marrying type. One kid
was definitely enough. And that kid was going to need her for the rest
of his life, there would never come a time when he would grow up and
move away from home. There could not be a day when he could look after
himself in his dangerous world. They had made it that way, and it was
their responsibility.

Michael shifted again and opened his eyes to catch Bonnie watching
him. "What?" She shook her head, amused at his efforts to untangle
himself from the blanket Devon had covered him with, enough to sit up
straight. Devon seemed to be mothering them both at the moment, and
Bonnie wondered why. "Any news?"
"No. It's only been just over an hour. I don't want her to feel like
we're watching over her shoulder. Besides, the diagnostics probably
take hours to run. There are four technicians on their way to deal with
the car, they'll bring the other truck with all the parts they should
need. We need to at least get the car back on the road as soon as
possible."
"Damn straight. I'm going after whoever did this." Bonnie looked at
him warily, and Michael recognized her expression. "I know what you're
going to say. But I can't help but be angry."
Bonnie shook her head again, cutting him off, "That's not what I was
thinking about."
"Then what?"
She sat forward. "If Kitt makes it through this, he's had a bad
scare. You know what he was like after the incident with the acid pit,
and after the virus, it shakes his confidence, and rightly so. I doubt
he's going be ready to go out too soon, and you can't go back out there
without him. We still don't know which one of you they were after.
Devon's convinced they were trying to kill you, but I'm not so sure."
Michael screwed his face in thought, trying to find some reason why
anyone would want to hurt Kitt. "That sounds pretty unlikely Bonnie."
"There are easier ways to kill someone. Whoever planned this knew the
only way to damage the car was to attack from underneath. Surely it's
not too much to assume that same person would know that Kitt would do
anything to save your life. And they didn't come after you, they must
have seen you eject, yet they left you alone."
"I didn't eject," Michael put in. "Kitt threw me out."
Bonnie smiled. "He knew if you stayed in the car you wouldn't make
it. The interior was decimated, you'd have gone with it if he hadn't
ejected you, and you know it."
"I just wish that he'd let us take _all_ the risks together, including
the dangerous ones."
"Michael! He's there to save your life, that's his primary function
and that is never going to change."
"But it should." Michael leaned forward to make his point. "Maybe at
one time that _was_ what he was there for, but he's a person in his own
right now."
"And he would still die for you." She hesitated before adding, "Like
you would for him." Bonnie's expression was serious, and when she saw
the denial start onto Michael's lips, she said simply, "Tell me I'm
wrong."
He looked away. "He's my friend. He's the best friend I've ever had."

"I know, and you're his. So don't berate him for something you would
do in his place. Okay?"

**

"I'm scared Ella." Kitt kept his voice quiet and low. "I knew what
was happening, moment by moment. As a computer I have that luxury. As
we jumped I scanned the top of the truck, just before the first
explosive pierced the underside of the car. Then I ejected Michael. He
must have seen the diode light up because he screamed at me not to do
it."
"You saved his life. Have you seen the interior of the car?"
"Not exactly, but I can imagine what it looks like, if it was anything
like what happened in the engine compartment when that first explosive
detonated."
"Describe it to me."
Kitt hesitated. "It... it was like being in the centre of a huge ball
of flames. Before, knowing the fire is coming but not being able to
move, during, while the flames lick at you, all around you, burning
everywhere. And after, when it's still too hot, when you know you're
dying and soon the pain will all go away. But it didn't. Until Bonnie
switched me off when I arrived here."

Ella sat horrified, staring at the microprocessor before her, trying to
take in everything at once. Burning. Knowing. Escape. Pain. These
were definitely not words in the language of computers. These were
words used by a traumatized person who had taken a look into hell and
decided it was not such a great place after all. She found herself
reaching out to Kitt. What the hell was she going to do? Stroke a
piece of metal?

There was a long silence between them. Finally Kitt asked, "Did you
write the C.E.E.P.S. program?" Ella nodded, then realizing that Kitt
could not see her, vocally confirmed that she did. Her thoughts were
still off-centre over all that was happening. "You saved my life."
Whatever reaction Kitt had expected, Ella simply smiled and chuckled.
"No, I didn't, Kitt. Michael and Bonnie saved your life. They acted
quickly, they made sure the recovery had somewhere to recover to." She
sat forward, touching the side of the casing lightly. "I think they
love you." She spoke with infinite awe.
There was a long pause. "I'm sorry I lied to them." The apology and
sadness in the computer's synthesized voice astounded her.
"It's okay, I won't tell them if you don't. I'll say the recovery had
an error in it, but that I managed to retrieve the remainder of the data
manually."
"But your program worked, Ella. There was no mistake on your part."
There was something akin to... misery ? in his voice.
Ella found herself wondering what she could do for Kitt, who was
obviously still in shock after his ordeal. "So what if it did work?
They'll never know, and they won't care either. You're back with them,
in one piece, safe and sound." She thought for a moment. "Only that's
not true is it?" There was more inner thought than realization in her
tone. "You're not sound, that's why you pretended that you couldn't
speak, that the voice module wasn't working. You don't want to be okay
because that would mean going back out, and that terrifies you."
There was nothing but understanding in her summary of the situation.
And Kitt could only confirm what she had said. "I am ashamed of what I
did. I don't want you to have to lie to them, to let them think that it
was your mistake."
"I honestly don't mind. I'd prefer that they thought that."

Kitt fell silent. He could still replay those agonizing moments before
and during the attack. He remembered, with crystal clarity, knowing
that it was all over, knowing there was no way to survive this, knowing
Michael had to be ejected, and that there was no time to say goodbye.
This was the end and there was so much he had never said, to Bonnie and
even Devon, but especially to Michael. No time. He had heard Michael
shout in denial as the driver ejection began. It was the only way. "I
will tell them that I'm not able to work with Michael any more."
Ella sighed. "Why don't you try telling them the truth? That you're
frightened, that you've had a shock and it's knocked your confidence."
Her voice became more gentle. "It isn't something to be ashamed of,
Kitt. It happens to us all."
"It doesn't happen to computers."
Ella thought about the scene she had encountered when she had first
arrived. "You're more than just a computer. I can tell that just by
listening to you. Computers definitely don't think the way you're
thinking. You're thinking like a person and that must be how the others
see you, operators don't usually hand total access control over to their
machines. You're more than that."
Another long pause. And then a quiet, "Thank you."

Ella continued to look through the code modules that she had access
to. Most of the functions that were not running she assumed referred to
the operation of the car itself. Kitt probably had the ability to run
those when needed. One function, perc_init, in the main root directory,
was also not running. "Kitt, what's perc_init?"
He answered quietly, obviously his thoughts were elsewhere too. "That
is the function that initializes the perceptors."
"Perceptors? As in AI?"
"Perceptors are little pieces of hardware that make it possible for me
to... feel my environment."
Ella frowned. "Feel? How?"
"They act like basic nerve-endings. Much less sensitive, but
effectively the same purpose; to make me aware of what's around me."
"Why isn't this function running?"
"The perceptors are only activated when the CPU is installed in the
car."
"But you activate them yourself, don't you."
"Yes, I do now."
"Then why only when you're in the car?"
Kitt was silent for a moment. "I haven't been out of the body of the
car since control was given to me."
"You mean, that's all you've ever known? Engine parts?"
When Kitt answered her, there was definite amusement and patience in
his voice. "I am a computer designed and built to operate within the
body of the Knight 2000. I am the voice of the car. Without the car,
I'm a box. There is nothing else for me."

Ella thought about everything he had said. She had been searching the
directory structure looking for some clue on what to say to him, how to
help him through the obvious trauma he was feeling after what he had
been through. But an idea was forming in her head, so bizarre that she
was not sure she should even ask. "Are all the perceptors fitted in the
car?"
"All but one."
"And where's that?"
"It's attached to the casing, on a short wire. It's for testing
purposes."
Ella stood, and carefully looked down into the circuitry within the
casing. She felt scared to touch anything. Kitt had definitely become
more than the sum of the parts used to make up this fantastic computer.
Folded carefully into the side of the casing, she found a wire, attached
to a circuit board at one end, a small receiver at the other, resembling
an earphone used on Walkmans. Very gently, she lifted and unfolded the
wire, and then lifted the entire casing and sat down, settling it onto
her knees and getting comfortable.

She had no idea why she was doing this; maybe she was losing it,
working around machines too long had driven her insane. But there was
something in that voice that kept getting to her, an edge that spoke
volumes to her when only a few words were being used. It made her care
and Ella had walked away from that too many times already.

She did not know that she was making the exact same leap of faith that
everyone else who worked with Kitt had made.

Once she was comfortable, her legs curled under her, Kitt sitting
safely in her lap, she placed the perceptor in the palm of her hand, and
sat very still. "Activate that function, Kitt." She said quietly.
"Ella, there's no reason..."
"Please? Trust me, okay?"
Kitt said nothing else, but out of curiosity, out of wanting to trust
Ella despite previous experiences; he ran the initialization function.
It took a moment. And then he could feel. It was how he had imagined
being in the seat of the car would feel, soft and warm. And it felt
comforting somehow. "Where am I?"
Ella smiled to herself. "You're sitting on my knee, Kitt. Your
perceptor's resting in my hand. Don't worry, I won't hurt you."
There was a long silence as Kitt took the electronic equivalent of a
deep breath and forced himself to relax. Everything was going to be
okay. "Why are you doing this?" he asked finally.

Ella shook her head. "I don't know Kitt, I've been sitting here
wondering that myself. Maybe it's because I think you've been in a very
nasty car accident, and you just need time to adjust."
Kitt had to agree with her. He lapsed back into silence, letting the
data from the perceptor flood more of his circuits. No one had ever
shown him affection like this before. He found he did not want to say
anymore. Emotions were pounding at him, different feelings that just
did not settle well together. It was difficult to feel so much at once
and it took up much of his processing power just trying to put
everything into place. After some time, he found he was hearing a soft
noise. Snoring. Michael snored. It was a comforting, familiar sound,
and for a long time he just listened.

**

Bonnie took in the scene in stunned silence. Ella was curled up in the
chair, right hand out over the arm, with Kitt in her lap and the test
perceptor in her palm. Quietly, Bonnie crouched down and whispered,
"Kitt?"
"Bonnie... it's good to hear you."
"Are you okay?"
"I will be."
She felt relief envelope her, and allowed herself a smile. "Do you
know where you are?"
"Yes." She had expected more, some quick comeback, but nothing else
followed, so she let it go for now.
"The technicians are here to sort out the car, we'll have you back to
yourself in no time."
"Thank you, Bonnie."

Despite the fact that there were so many things to say, Kitt found he
did not feel like talking right now. He had always felt vulnerable in
this state, out of the car, like he was naked, if he could take a wild
guess at what that felt like. He did want to be back in the car, which
was where he belonged; it gave him movement, control, sight and
independence. But right now, for a little longer, he was happy exactly
where he was.

**

A little later, Ella woke to the aroma of fresh coffee. These people
really knew their caffeine. When she opened her eyes, she focused first
on Michael, crouching beside her and grinning, second on the work
proceeding on the body of the car behind him. "I thought you might need
this." He indicated the steaming mug in his hand.
Ella nodded, "Thanks." She tried to move her legs, but they were not
responding. "I think my legs have gone to sleep." Michael put the mug
down on the workbench and reached down for the casing.
"Let me take Kitt...."
She held up a warning hand, "Careful, this is a live perceptor."
Michael immediately backed off. "Right. Well why don't we swap places
for a while?"
"You sure?"
"Of course."
Michael flattened his left right hand and very carefully Ella shifted
the perceptor into his palm. Lifting the casing, she then moved off the
chair, settling herself on the floor, knowing her legs would not support
her until she got some blood back in them. Once Michael was seated, she
placed Kitt on his lap.

As Ella rubbed some life back into her legs, Michael marvelled in
feeling the weight of his partner for the first time. Ella saw the
strange look on his face. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I just realized, I've never held him before."
Ella could not help the smile that broke out. His words warmed her
heart and made her feel less like she was not the only one over-reacting
to this startling computer.

"Michael?"
"Hey, Kitt. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
"And now the truth."
Ella had not been sure whether to say anything to Michael and Bonnie or
not, but she realized at that moment that she would not have to.
"...I've been better."
Michael gently started to rub the perceptor with his thumb. "I know,
Pal, I know. There are technicians here. They're working on the car if
you were wondering what all the noise is. They'll have it all fixed up
within a few days. You'll feel better once you're back in the car, I'm
sure."
"Whoever attacked us meant to kill you, Michael." Kitt spoke quietly,
and Ella got the distinct feeling that he wanted this to be a private
discussion. She stood, wobbled slightly, then picked up her coffee and
headed tactfully into the house.
"Well, Bonnie isn't so sure about that, Kitt. She thinks they were
after you."
"Michael... I don't understand. Why?"
"I don't know. It does make sense, if they were after me, there are
easier ways. Someone went to a lot of trouble to set that up."

Kitt seemed to think about that. Michael's eyes wondered to the
activity on the other side of the garage, and in the back of the Semi
where Bonnie was working along side one of the technicians. "Michael?"
"Yeah, Kitt."
"Is that you?"
He brought his attention back to his partner. "Is what me?"
"...Touching the perceptor."
"Sorry, Kitt," he stopped, pulling his thumb away, mindful not to drop
the small device.
"You don't have to stop. It's... it's nice. It's comforting."
Michael was touched, and resumed his delicate stroking. He wondered if
it would be possible to have a perceptor inside the car, placed
somewhere so that it would not be accidentally knocked. So that they
had some way of touching Kitt, that he felt it. He sometimes missed
being able to give Kitt the comfort of physical closeness.

"Michael, has Ella left?"
The question came unexpectedly. "No, I think she just went to shower
and change. I think Devon was going to ask her to stay, at least for
the weekend. Just in case something else comes up." He glanced down.
"Why do you ask?"
"I wouldn't want her to go without thanking her."
The explanation was simple, and was what Michael would have expected
from Kitt, but he had a feeling there was more going on here.

Before he could ask about it, Kitt changed the subject again. "Why did
you shout at me when I ejected you?"
Michael instantly felt that twinge of anger he experienced every time
he thought about the attack. "We're supposed to be in this together."
He realized that he must have let some of his feelings into his voice
when Kitt's own voice dropped considerably. "You're angry with me. I
was only doing what I had to do to save your life. That is my primary
function, Michael, you know that."
He took a deep breath, releasing some of the pent-up tension. "I'm not
angry with you, pal. But I wish you wouldn't give me that programming
stuff, you've broken through that, I know you have."
"I would still do everything I could to save your life when you're in
danger. You're my partner and partners are supposed to do that. I
could never let anything happen to you."
Michael sighed. He could not argue with Kitt's logic; his friend was
right. But that did not stop it from irking him. "It just seems that
every time it comes to the crunch, you're in it on your own. It just
feels wrong."
"Does this mean... that you don't want to work with me anymore?"
The suggestion shocked him. "No Kitt, God no, that's not what I'm
saying. I could never work with anyone else."
"Do you mean that?"
"Of course. Kitt, never underestimate how much you mean to me, and how
I feel about you. I will never leave you while I'm still alive, that's
a promise."
"I don't know what to say...."
"That's okay, Pal. I know."

Kitt really was not sure what to say. It was starting to overwhelm
him. He desperately wanted to be back in the car, in surroundings he
knew. This strange blindness he endured without his sensors was always
difficult to cope with. There was usually data coming into his CPU at a
constant, bombarding rate. He was used to dealing with chaos, sorting
it and ordering it in milliseconds. But lack of data, almost like
silence around him, despite the outside noise, could easily panic him,
and he had to fight continuously to keep calm.

Kitt found Michael's simple rubbing of the perceptor tremendously
helpful, it gave him input, data to be handled, it also gave him a new
contact to the outside world. He and Michael had been together for over
seven years, it was all Kitt had ever known, yet in all that time, he
had never felt as close to his driver as he did at this moment.

**

The skilled technicians worked through the day and well into the night,
having estimated two days before the car would be ready to take the
CPU. The new shell that they had been going on about when Bonnie had
first contacted them, came with a brand new paint-job. Gone was the
old, familiar black, replaced by epoxy; metallic paint with a golden hue
that resembled highly polished metal, and caught light spectacularly,
giving the impression of a very fast street machine. They even
remodelled the front slightly, bringing the nose down in a touch more of
a curve than the straight front the old car had had.

By Sunday night, Ella still had no flight plans, and no intention of
leaving unless they threw her out. Michael had spent most of the two
days with Kitt, talking, playing games, anything to keep the computer
occupied while he sat blind on the workbench, or more often in Michael's
lap. Michael had mentioned the idea of an accessible perceptor to
Bonnie, who had spoken to the technicians. It would be placed around
the back of the steering wheel, in the top of the steering column. The
input would be dampened down so as not to be a constant for Kitt to deal
with, but he would be able to boost the signal if he wanted to. It
would not be knocked accidentally and would be in a perfect position for
Kitt to feel it when Michael hugged the steering wheel, an action Bonnie
had noticed him do more often in the recent months.

Devon watched the goings on from a distance, concerned about the
motives for the attack that had caused all this. He was concerned about
the ease with which their attackers had been able to get into the lab,
they would have needed several codes; for the gates and for the doors
they had to pass through.

The police had gone over the lab with a fine tooth-comb, had picked up
several sets of prints, all accounted for except one. A single index
finger that linked the destruction to a man named William Clay. Clay
was a collector of cars. He reputedly had the largest collection in the
world, keeping them all in several garages erected on his estate just
outside of Phoenix. He had made his money as an exclusive car dealer,
able to get any car a customer requested for a very considerable price.
His means were questionable, but his motive was impossible to figure.
The man loved cars.

Devon was convinced the destruction of the lab was tied into the
attack; destroy Kitt and ensure he stayed destroyed by wiping out the
backup. But why would a man like Clay attack the car, do as much damage
as he had, and then simply leave the scene. Nothing made sense.

He spent a lot of time wondering around the house, and had finally
decided that once Kitt was ready, they would return to the estate in
California. All his papers were there, the test track was there for the
car to be put through its paces. And more importantly there was room,
space for them all to try to relax, take a breath, and maybe even settle
back into some semblance of normality.

**

The nights had been cold, but there had been no more rain or snow since
that first night. Wrapped in several sweaters and a thick coat, that
Devon had loaned her, Ella found that she was warm enough to sit outside
and enjoy the marvellous views of the night sky. With no light
pollution whatsoever, stars and galaxies could be seen in stunning
detail.

"Hi."
Ella turned in the darkness and smiled. "Hi Bonnie."
"I saw you sitting out here, I thought you might need a hot drink."
Bonnie sat herself down on the wall, and let her legs dangle, handing
her a mug. Ella sniffed at the drink.
"Wow! Is this what I think it is?"
"Hot chocolate, the nearest I ever come to cooking."
She took a sip of the steaming liquid. "It's fantastic."
"Thank you."
Ella let the warmth from the mug heat her hands through the long
sleeves of one of her sweaters. "How's Kitt?"
"He's okay, shaken, upset, frightened... but he's still with us, and
that's what's important."
"You lot really care for him, don't you?"
Bonnie nodded. "He's a member of the family."
Ella smiled ironically. "My family spends most of their time arguing."

Bonnie looked over at Ella curiously, but read nothing in her
expression to give anything away. "Well, we have our times. Mind you,
we usually bring it on ourselves."
Ella frowned. "You surprise me. You all seem so... close, so
understanding."
"Well, in our line of work it's difficult." She sighed, remembering.
"There was one case, we had to send Michael in undercover and the person
we were after was a communications expert. We thought he may be able to
penetrate Kitt's systems, so we didn't tell Kitt what was going on.
There'd been break in at the Foundation, but nothing was stolen, and
when we scanned the mansion, a tiny camera and transmitter had been
placed in Devon's office. So Michael set himself up for arrest, and for
suspension from the Foundation. He and Devon acted for the camera,
staging arguments and such like. I could see Kitt getting more and more
upset through it all. The guy we were after approached Michael like we
hoped he would, took him on, and asked him to prove his loyalty by
stealing Kitt. So Michael did. He broke into the garage, talked Kitt
into going. Kitt belongs to Michael, he adores him, so we hoped that
alone would be enough for him to go and it was. Everything was going
perfectly." She smiled faintly at the memories.
Ella was hooked. "What happened?"
"Well, as we had expected, the guy asked Michael for more proof, asked
him to get some key that was in Devon's possession, and to get rid of
Devon in the process. They acted it all out in Devon's office, as
planned, Michael shot him with a blank and Devon went down. Then
Michael grabbed the key and tried to escape. What we didn't figure on
was Kitt. He'd tapped into the transmitter, seen the whole act,
believed it and when Michael tried to drive off, Kitt had refused to
power up. We knocked out the transmitter, and Devon and I stood at the
window watching. It struck me as hilarious at the time, watching
Michael trying to move the car. We had to explain to Kitt what was
going on, leaving it far too dangerous for Michael to return
undercover. We lost the guy, he was arrested about a year later for
something or other. Our real problem turned out to be Kitt, he honestly
thought Michael had killed Devon, he had watched as his world shattered
and he was devastated. We used to forget that Kitt can be hurt as much
as, maybe more than, the rest of us can. He's still very young, and
really we're all he's ever known. If he can't trust us, who the hell
can he trust? He needs us, it's not like he can leave home." She shook
her head. "I can't imagine how he must have felt, seeing that all slip
away."
"Bonnie, he's a computer. He's very human-like, but he is a computer,
with programmed responses."
Bonnie chuckled, and caught Ella's gaze. "You have no idea how often
I've heard that. Mostly from Kitt himself." She shook her head. "His
responses aren't programmed anymore, they never really were. We gave
him some starting blocks to grow from, that was all."

She turned her head, looking back into the garage where the lights were
on over the lab area, despite it being the early hours of the morning.
Ella followed Bonnie's eyes and saw Michael sitting in the comfy chair,
Kitt on the workbench, playing chess. But even from this distance, Ella
could make out Michael's hand, flat out on the bench, the test perceptor
in his palm. "He really likes having someone holding that perceptor, he
says it's comforting." Bonnie turned back to staring out over the
extensive grounds, and the woodland surrounding them. "What made you
think of that?"
"I saw the function wasn't running and asked Kitt what it did. The
idea just came to mind, I thought it might help him, he seemed very...
shaken. It always helps to have someone holding your hand"
Bonnie smiled knowingly. "So already you see him as more than just a
computer, you care about his feelings."
"Don't remind me."
Bonnie grinned across at her, feeling very awake despite her lack of
sleep over the passed days. "It's okay to feel that way. You just have
to accept it. Michael said once that Kitt was special and unique, and
he exacted special and unique reactions from people. I think that's how
he rationalizes it when he needs to."
For some reason, that sat well with Ella as if she too had been looking
for a way to rationalize her own feelings. "Do you ever long for a
normal life?"
That made Bonnie laugh. "What's a normal life? A part time job,
husband, kids, typing?"
Ella shrugged. "Well...."
"I love my life. I work with the most amazing technology, I'm always
at the forefront of what's happening in my field. I do what I love
doing, software and hardware engineering where it matters. I have Kitt,
and I love him very much. And... I guess I've fallen in love with
Michael."
Ella grinned, "Have you told him?"
"Not yet, I'd just reached the conclusion when this nightmare started."

A comfortable silence fell between the two of them. Both became lost
in thought. The slice of moon was clear over the trees in front of
them. It was beautifully quiet, with only the rustle of the wildlife in
the grounds. Devon had told Ella earlier that afternoon that she was
quite welcome to stay, that Kitt seemed to like having her around, and
that was enough for them. Part of her wanted to stay more than anything
else in the world, but part of her wanted to leave it all behind, and
make Kitt nothing more than a memory.
"Bonnie, have you ever felt... more, for Kitt?"
Ella honestly expected Bonnie to ask her what the hell she was talking
about, but instead a knowing look crossed the technician's face. "He
can be very... charming, Ella. Just remember that at the moment, he's
very vulnerable, most of his usual emotional defences are down, and he
needs people around him. When he's back in the car, when he's back to
his normal self, then you'll get to know him as he is." Bonnie jumped
down off the wall, and moved to stand by Ella's knees, to look up into
her unreadable expression. "And believe me, that's when it'll get
difficult."

Bonnie left Ella to her thoughts and headed into the garage to check on
her two men. Ella finished the last of her hot chocolate, but did not
move from where she was sitting until the sun came up. She lived in
California, as near to Hollywood as made no odds. The sunsets were
fantastic, but there was never any peace, always a club, or working
late, never time to sit and think. It had been a long time since she
was alone with her thoughts. And now she was, she was starting to
realize just how much was missing from her life. Mind you, an
over-intelligent computer was not going to fill that hole.

Kitt had won. Again. Michael had played seven games against his
partner and lost every one. As she entered the garage, Bonnie heard
Michael saying, "You could at least _let_ me win on."
"Michael, you really wouldn't want me to throw a game, would you?"
"Well...."
"Michael!"
The familiar banter, almost predictable, had kept their relationship
going for the past seven years. It kept them sane in an insane world.
It made them feel safe with each other when their lives were dangerous
and unpredictable. Sometimes Kitt's own brand of logic irritated
Michael, but then he was sure that he often drove Kitt mad, so they were
even.

"Michael," Bonnie spoke quietly as she sat up on the workbench.
"Hi Bon."
"Good evening, Bonnie."
"Kitt, it's nearly four am, it's hardly the evening."
She was joking, expecting a sharp retort, but none came. Bonnie
frowned, and Michael shrugged, gently placing the perceptor on the
sponge next to the casing, and beckoning for her to follow him outside.
"Give me a moment, okay Kitt?"
"Of course, Michael."

They got outside before Bonnie nailed Michael with a
more-than-concerned stare. Michael backed off a step or two.
"He's been like this all day, it's little things that wouldn't usually
bother him but seem to be upsetting him at the moment."
"Have you talked to him?"
"I've spent all day...."
But Bonnie shook her head, interrupting him. "I mean, really talked to
him, about how he's feeling." Michael sighed. He was tired,
exhausted. Bonnie saw it in his eyes; he was wasted, but still trying
to hold it together. "Kitt needs you, Michael. I know it's hard...."
This time it was his turn. "It's not hard, Bonnie. He's my best
friend, my partner. I just wish I knew what to say."
Bonnie nodded, understanding exactly how he felt. "What have you said
before? You've managed to get him to open up in the past."
"He just seemed more willing to talk before. This time it seems
different. I think...."
"What?"
"I think he's embarrassed about his reaction to all this."
Bonnie nodded. She motioned towards the still figure of Ella sitting
on the wall some way from them, with her back to them. "I was talking
to Ella yesterday about it. She seemed to think that he may take some
time to get over this one."
"For someone who's only known him a few days, she seems to have become
quite close to him."
Bonnie smiled, "She has become very fond of him."
There was a certain amount of subtle hint in her voice, but Michael did
not pick up on it. He had seen how careful Ella had been with Kitt,
with the perceptor that she had activated. She was obviously seeing his
partner as much more than a machine already. Bonnie looked carefully at

Michael. "You need some sleep. How are you feeling?"
"Lucky." He smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Very lucky."

**

Ella showered early Monday morning; feeling refreshed despite the very
few hours' sleep that she had had. Bonnie was up making breakfast and
brewing coffee by the time Ella wondered into the kitchen. Outside, the
technicians were already at work. "How's the car coming?"
Bonnie put a mug in Ella's hand. "It should be ready by this evening.
We'll put Kitt back as soon as we can. It's important that we get him
back on his feet, so to speak, as fast as possible." Ella nodded.
"Bonnie, if there's anything I can do.... I do feel like I've barged
in here. Even though I didn't want to come when Devon first called, now

I feel in no hurry to leave. I hope you don't mind me being here, and
anything I can do for you, please just ask."
"I don't mind you being here, none of us do.... I know Kitt
appreciates you." She lapsed back into silence.
"What's wrong?"
Bonnie leant heavily against the cupboards. "There's something up with
Kitt. He's not responding to things as he used to, he seems nervous, as
if something's bothering him."
"He's bound to be slightly preoccupied. He's probably still in a
little bit of shock."
"I know, but we have had situations like this before, times when Kitt's
been injured, or the car's been damaged.... There's something else
here, I'm sure of it. I just hope he finds the courage to talk to us."
Ella placed a gentle hand on Bonnie's arm, "I think once you get him
back into the car, he'll be much better, much more comfortable."

**

Michael loved it. He loved what they had done to the exterior, he
loved what they had done to the interior. But most of all he loved it
when he climbed into the car that Monday night, and the voice display
lit up in delight.
"Michael, it's good to have you back there."
"So you're not going to throw me out this time, Kitt?" The comment had
been meant as a joke, but the computer went quiet. "Aw, Kitt, I'm
sorry. Ella said to be careful. You saved my life, Pal. Again. I owe
you so much and I feel I'll never find a way to repay you."
"There's no need to look, Michael." Another pause, before he decided
to wait to say what he wanted so desperately to say. "So, how do I
look?"
"You look fantastic, Kitt. I wish you could see yourself."
"Unfortunately the new detailed scanners only look inside the car. But
I can see you, in a manner of speaking."
Michael smiled. "And how do I look?"
There was another pause before Kitt replied, "Wonderfully familiar."
Michael felt the warm affection radiating through Kitt's words and he
revelled in it.
"So, how about a drive?"

Michael had half-expected to have to coax Kitt back out onto the road,
but the car seemed happy enough to play with the bends and curves
revealed as they drove further into the woodland. Letting Kitt drive,
Michael settled back and enjoyed the scenery, enjoyed being back in his
own car, with the familiar, comfortable feeling of safety the Trans-Am
had always given him. The moonlight caught the hood through the trees,
the light playing off the new paint-work. The new colour allowed
reflections of the spectrum and even from inside it looked stunning.

The dash looked a little less like 'Darth Vader's bathroom'. The same
functionality had been incorporated into a much less understated panel
of small buttons, still far enough apart that Michael would not hit the
wrong one, and still in the same order and basic location that they had
always been. He hardly ever looked down anymore, he knew where each
function was and it had been a long time since he had accidentally hit
the wrong one. The single monitor screen was now four, smaller ones in
a video-wall configuration. The double-handled joystick-style steering
had been swapped for an ordinary wheel several years ago, at Michael's
request. But Kitt was still the same as he had always been. He had
grown up, matured along with the people around him, become easier to get
along with, although Michael still sometimes thought he was too like
Devon in some ways, too like himself in others.

An hour later, with Kitt still driving, Michael checked out some of the
other functions. The scanners, external and internal, now had extended
range and more detailed input and display capabilities. And a single,
tiny lens in the dash gave Kitt a startlingly detailed image of his
driver; a clearer picture than he had ever had. Added to that, Bonnie
had once again managed a slight increase in speed along with the
additional braking that required.
Still Kitt seemed very quiet.
Michael had been wondering how to rile his partner enough to get him to
tell Michael what was wrong, and earlier on he had finally figured out
what to do. He had an idea; all he had to do was lead into it.
"Kitt," Michael started, "I've been doing a lot of thinking over the
last few days. I mean, the drive up here was very quiet without anyone
to talk to, and there's been a lot of sitting around to do, waiting for
the repairs and everything to be completed...."
It worked.
"Please, Michael, don't." Michael waited as Kitt pulled the car over,
stopped safely in amongst the nearest trees. "I failed you." He said
simply. "I should have scanned the truck before we jumped, I should
have known, gone around the obstruction instead of over. Once we were
airborne there was no way to abort without putting your life in danger,
I knew if you stayed in the car you'd be killed. It would have been my
fault. As it was I ejected you and you still got hurt. I endangered
your life. That's unforgivable. And I understand that we can't work
together if I can't do my job, if I can't protect you. I'm sorry."

By the time Kitt finished, Michael was fighting back tears. He let out
a deep sigh, and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. "Kitt,
listen to me. Do you remember what I told you, over the laptop, when
Bonnie re-initialized the system?"
"Yes. You told me..." Kitt hesitated, dropped the volume of his
voice. "You told me you loved me."
"I do love you, Kitt. And I need you to know that, and to remember
it. We were out on a drive, talking about our Christmas vacation,
discussing where you wanted to go 'cause I chose last year. We weren't
being chased, we weren't on a case, we weren't on alert, we were just
cruising. And a truck pulled out of a junction in front of us. There
were drops on both sides, a narrow road; the only way was over. We may
have been breaking the speed limit, but I was driving, it was my fault
that we were going too fast to stop. Kitt, we've done the same thing a
thousand times. We always go over, it's more fun, it's safer than
suddenly darting out into the other side of the road. No one's to blame
for what happened. Maybe if we had been on alert we'd have done it
differently. I don't know. We did what we did. We were attacked. You
saved my life."
"I ejected you against your wishes...."
"Because you knew that I wouldn't eject."
"You were angry that I did it...."
"Only because... because we're partners, a team, and I hate the thought
that you're programmed to sacrifice yourself for me. I feel that it
isn't fair."
"But Michael, that's why I'm here, to protect you."
"Kitt...."
"And even if I hadn't been programmed that way," Kitt continued, "I'd
have done the same thing, I would always do the same thing, because
you're my friend and my partner. I never expected things to be this
way. When we first met I thought we would have a working relationship
at best, a few cursory words in the morning and then me simply giving
you information when you asked for it. What we have is beyond anything
I...."
"Anything you dreamt of." Michael finished quietly, touched.
"Yes."
"So you've been worrying that because you did the only thing you could
have done, under the circumstances, and because you saved my life and
endangered your own, I wouldn't want to be working with you anymore? Is
that right?" He kept his tone infinitely gentle, hoping to get
everything, all of Kitt's worries and fears, out into the open so that
they could deal with them.
"Yes...."
"You're wrong. I meant what I said when you were in the garage. I
wouldn't ever want to work with anyone else. If I lost you, I don't
think I could go on working for the Foundation. If I lost you...." He
thought back to the moment Bonnie had told him, with her eyes alone,
that there was nothing more she could do, that Kitt was gone, and he let
that terrible empty feeling return to memory. "I thought you were dead
back there, I thought I would somehow have to go on without you, and I
wasn't sure how the hell I was going to do that. You feel that you're
responsible for my life, well Kitt, I feel the same way about you."

In the quiet that followed, Michael wrapped his arms around the
steering wheel, letting his thumb brush against the perceptor. He
thought, for a moment, that he heard a hum of contentment from the voice
box, but he could not be sure.
"Michael," Kitt said eventually, "thank you."
"So are we okay? Because if there's anything else bothering you, I
want you to be able to talk to me about it, about anything."
"We're okay Michael, but I will remember that."
"Okay. You want to drive?"
"If I may...."
Michael sat back, grinning. "Be my guest."