by Birgit Stäbler
It had been an exceptionally uneventful month, Michael reflected as
he stepped out from under the shower. A mysterious homicide case had turned
out to be an angry colleague of the victim wanting the deceased's job.
An apparently kidnapped heir to a small fortune turned out to be a teenage
runaway who wanted nothing to do with her parents. Puberty strikes back.
And the Foundation fundraiser had been as boring as ever, with the one
highlight of Quinn Campbell keeping him company throughout some very boring
speeches. Even the discovery that Nick had been shot throughout what had
sounded like a simple hacking stint was none too exceptional. They lived
dangerous lives and injuries happened. Mostly through bullets, knives and
whatnot.
His life hadn't changed much in that regard, Michael thought as he
left his room and passed by the empty cardboard boxes on the couch table.
There had once been a triple cheese and pepperoni pizza in one of them.
It had made his mouth water just from the smell. Last night had been exceptional
compared to what his life usually looked like. Just sitting there, watching
TV, having pizza and beer, talking a bit. The life they lived, it was rare
they had a quiet evening without Nick being online and hunting for clues
or useful information, or Michael going over a case, talking to Devon or
Bonnie, or trying to make sense of meager clues.
In other areas of his life, things had changed profoundly in the last
three years. And he regretted not a minute of it, be it painful or happy.
The pain and joy always held each other equal. There was not too much of
any of it. Too much pain skewered your view of life; too much happiness
made you reckless and an easy target. Whatever the implant in his mind
had made of him, he didn't want it to change. It had brought him closer
to his partner, and it had shown him there was so much more to life than
what he had always thought was perfect already.
Michael checked the time on the microwave oven clock and grimaced as
he discovered that it was just after seven a.m. Too early to be up, but
somehow he hadn't felt much like sleeping anymore. He got himself some
coffee from the already working coffee machine. That meant that Nick was
up. No big surprise there. Hardly anything about his odd friend could surprise
him. Nick was a person you couldn't grasp, couldn't define, and when you
tried, he defied whatever you had tried to pin on him. Michael had gotten
to know him better lately, had seen sides to the younger man that had been
buried deep inside. Nick had opened up and he was slowly coming out of
his shell.
He was responsible for a lot of the good things that had happened to
Michael, he mused as he sipped at the black coffee. He had been there to
teach them about the implant, almost whipping them on every time they had
faltered. Every time they had wanted to give up because of the pain and
despair. In the end, it had been the right way. Go through with it, live
and learn. He had never left them alone, had defended them with his life,
and he had changed himself. Compared to the man Michael had worked with
prior to the activation of the implant, this Nick was now almost human.
He chuckled lightly. Nick would probably give him a glare if he ever
mentioned it. He liked to cultivate this image of coldness. It was a defense.
But looking back now, he saw all the little tell-tale changes. The evolution,
so to speak.
Michael left the kitchen and walked over to the rail, gazing down onto
the ground floor. To his mild surprise, he saw Nick lying on Karr's dark
hood, eyes closed, his good arm curled under his head. It was a picture
of perfect peace and unity, and Michael found himself smiling behind his
mug. Nick hated to admit that he had changed in regard to Karr, but it
was oh-so visible in little things. When they had met, the partnership
between the AI and the man had been based on functionality and the need
to work together because there was no other way. It had slowly turned into
a partnership that showed openly, that gave Michael a view into the minds
of the two people who had worked ceaselessly to give him and Kitt a chance.
Nick and Karr had finished a bond that had been years in the making, finally
making the last steps, opening themselves up without fear of pain to the
other.
It had astounded him to hear how close Karr had come to Kitt, and in
the beginning, he had been angry, afraid, almost jealous. Why should this
monster be allowed to share with Kitt what Michael shared as well? How
dare this killer approach his partner? This had changed as well. Today,
Michael knew that what he had met all those years back in the form of KARR,
had not been what he had met again when the implant inside his mind had
activated. There was a big difference, and Kitt had confessed to it as
well. Karr would never be Kitt, but why should he? They were different,
had been intended to be different. One was the prototype, the other the
second generation. There was no rivalry; they knew who they were, what
they were, and they knew their drivers.
Change. So much change. And still, life was the same. Wasn't it? The
world turned, people woke up every morning, went to work, came home to
a family, went to bad. Normality. It had so many definitions. Michael's
was this world. A world that consisted of artificial intelligences, chases
through streets, fist fights, shots fired, espionage and mystery. Perfectly
every-day normality, right?
Without Karr and Nick, Kitt would be dead today. Michael would most
likely be insane. Nothing of this would have happened, no development,
no love like this. They would have given up before crossing the first bridge
to cement this newly found closeness.
Friends.
Michael smiled. They had friends, different from everyone he knew,
but friends he trusted with his life. With his sanity. Nick hadn't left
after the first crisis was over; at least never for a long time. He had
always come back and somehow he doubted the former agent ever would as
long as he thought anything could hurt them. As much as Michael fought
against this protection, against Nick risking anything to keep them safe,
he appreciated the thought. This protection had gotten him ownership of
the car, had brought back Kitt from near-death and a death wish, and it
had brought them here.
He studied the other man down below. He had come to Wilton Knight almost
the same way Michael had, except for the bullet to the head. He had been
chosen by a man he hadn't known before and offered a chance. Michael had
had no choice but to take the chance. In a way, neither had Nick. Michael
had watched his creator die, and back then the decision had been made to
leave. When he had met Kitt, the decision had started to waver. At the
end of their first case, he had been hooked. It had been that simple. He
had never looked back, though it had been painful to make the transition
from Michael Long to Michael Knight. New face, new identity, reborn. But
the reward had been Kitt, and it was well worth it. It was worth all the
scars and the pain.
Something touched his mind and he smiled. This was worth everything.
He would never give it up. It was like an addiction; he was a junkie. Wilton
Knight had made him, had given him the implant, and he had died believing
it to be a failure. It wasn't. It was beautiful and alive, it was warm
and infinitely more than everything Michael could have been offered as
replacement. Kitt flowed around him and he let his fingers trail over the
mental image of his partner. Pure white light; beauty; perfection.
It was what he always thought. He knew he wasn't alone in that. There
were only two of them, but each was aware of what the mind at the other
end of the implant meant. They had been made for the other, but still,
they were individuals. Programs, who had developed beyond their initial
perimeters. Artificial Intelligence that rivaled organic intelligence.
Kitt was no computer for him; he was a person. He lived. He had the same
dreams and fears, the right to exist. Others would never understand, but
Michael didn't care. The important people understood. It was what mattered.
He pushed away from the railing and walked back into the kitchen, feeling
hungry. There were French Toast, waffles and some other goodies in the
freezer and fridge.
//Make more// Kitt's warm voice floated through his mind. //Nick's
coming up//
He smiled. It was so incredible, so unreal, so much what he would never
want to miss again. It wasn't telepathy; it was a way to talk, to hear,
even to see and feel that was beyond the human capability to verbalize.
And it was theirs alone. Sometimes, when he touched Kitt, he thought he
felt Karr. They were bonded as well, touching each other in a way only
AIs could share a link. A personal link, not just one for communication.
It was the touch Michael had been jealous of before, but one he now accepted
wholly. He had seen Karr, but he had never really touched him. He couldn't
imagine what it was like for Nick to be linked to the dark, silky mass
that was both threatening and hauntingly familiar in one.
Made for each other. So true. Michael knew what value this gift held;
he would always treasure it.