Gambit
Michael
Without turning to acknowledge his assistant, Boyd LaSalle crooked his finger at Danton. At least Devon Miles uses names and holds eye contact when giving orders, Michael thought. Sick of looking at LaSalle's sneer, Michael watched the other man cross the room towards a computer table and pick up a tube of furled paper. Danton came towards him, holding the roll out like an oversized relay baton for Michael to take the other end.
"You should be familiar with the premises," LaSalle intoned, watching Michael unravel the blue paper, "but perhaps not the wiring for the alarm system. If Devon Miles hasn't already changed the access codes, you'll need to be prepared."
Holding the rolled edges open, Michael looked at the floor plan that Danton had handed him. It was some sort of garage structure, with a maintenance bay, hydraulic lift and a fuel pump island marked out in the architect's neat hand. His eyes were taking in the lines and labels, but he was suddenly seeing the building in 3D, from recent memory. This was Kitt's garage, back at FLAG HQ.
"Well, you obviously are," Michael said, flicking the underside of the plan with his finger. "What if I said no?"
"Then there are other ways," LaSalle shrugged. "We have a lot in common, Mr Knight – a mutual interest in the activities of complete strangers, and tenacious methods of acquiring what we want."
Michael pretended to study the plan.
"I want the Knight 2000," LaSalle went on, "and I don't give up easily. Do you?"
Ignoring the challenge, Michael met the dark, watchful stare of his new employer. "The Knight 2000 isn't mine to take," he said.
LaSalle spread his lips into a flat smile. "Don't play coy," he warned. "The Foundation for Law and Government may own the car and finance its maintenance, but you control the computer. If anyone can bring that machine to me, it's you, Michael Knight."
Keeping his eyes on Michael, LaSalle reached into a desk drawer and produced a slim tape recorder. He slid his thumb along the edge of the device and clicked on a button.
" – but Michael, without you –"
"I know, pal, I feel the same way."
Kitt's friendly voice, sounding flat and reduced on tape, was sad to hear, but it was the conversation that Michael reacted to first. LaSalle was playing back the last time he and Kitt had spoken, yesterday morning in the garage, but how? The surveillance cameras only recorded video, not audio.
Devon was right, he thought; LaSalle is tapped into Kitt.
His whole undercover mission was built around the possibility that LaSalle's men could crack Kitt's defences, but having the fact confirmed on tape still threw Michael. This was a violation of his partner's privacy, like viewing him unaware on LaSalle's computer screen. What else did the man know? Was his access limited to audio from the car, or had he also penetrated Kitt's memory? The thought of LaSalle being able to search through his partner's databanks like breaking into a filing cabinet gripped Michael, but he shook it off. There was no way Bonnie would allow such a gaping breach of Kitt's defences.
"Touching," LaSalle smirked, shutting off the tape hiss that followed Michael telling Kitt to 'take care'. "I'm sure 'Kitt' will be pleased to see you again, when you return to the Foundation."
Michael sighed. He didn't want Kitt involved in LaSalle's schemes, but going back for him would be the perfect chance to get a message to Devon. Somehow. And Kitt would be pleased to see him, he knew, although the thought of his partner's unbroken loyalty and affection only made Michael feel worse.
"When do I leave?" he asked sullenly.
"When Danton is ready with the jet," LaSalle announced, shooting a glance at his pilot. "That should give you enough time to decide how you're going to do it." He laced his fingers neatly together over the desk blotter. "Any ideas?"
Michael already knew what he would have to do, but it was dangerous. And unfair.
"Don't worry," he said. "You'll get the car."
KITT
Returning to the Foundation alone, after 'dropping off' the first candidate for a new partner, Kitt prepared to explain his actions to Bonnie. He knew that she was afraid for him, unsettled by Michael's departure and how quickly Devon was working to replace him, but Kitt's own worries precluded him from sharing hers. Why fight for his own existence when the sole purpose of his creation was currently unaccounted for? Without Michael, what would happen now?
Kitt was programmed to work with Michael Knight, and even that prearranged pairing had taken time to develop into a friendship. He didn't want to start again at the bottom of another sharp learning curve.
Pulling up outside the garage and finding it empty, Kitt scanned for Bonnie. He knew she could only be in the computer lab or the research and development unit, keeping busy until his scheduled return from the test run, because she was avoiding Devon. There had been a disagreement between them earlier that morning, Kitt assumed about Michael, and now Bonnie refused to enter the house. Division breeding dissonance.
He picked her up in the labs, but didn't send word of his early reappearance. For the first time since saying goodbye to Michael, Kitt welcomed the solitude and an opportunity to analyse his situation. Selecting a recording by Enrico Caruso for background music, he retreated into his CPU to think.
Bonnie was angry with the board of directors for suspending Michael, and upset with Devon for not fighting their decision hard enough, but Kitt didn't have the force of her emotions. He didn't deny that he missed Michael, or that he was also confused by the unexpected turn of events in New Orleans, but logic helped to dampen his fears. Michael was not involved in drugs; ergo it was a fair assumption that the charges against him were false. All the information he required to prove his innocence was to find out who was trying to frame him, and the obvious suspect was Boyd LaSalle. Kitt thought he knew where Michael was, and what he might be doing, but the comlink was out of range.
Devon's behaviour was more of a mystery. Like his late creator Wilton Knight, Kitt understood Mr Miles to value the rights of the individual over the institution – surely he would never turn his back on Michael so readily because the men who ran the Foundation told him to? Either he was biding his time until he could gather enough evidence to defend Michael personally, or he knew more than he was willing to reveal. Whatever his reasoning, Kitt knew that he would be the last to find out. Michael had tried to leave him without saying goodbye, and neither Devon nor Bonnie had thought fit to consult with him about what he wanted to do next. Kitt knew that being the only advanced artificial intelligence in existence made him unique, but such a privileged position was not enough to earn him a voice within the Foundation.
Caught up in a loop of questions and hypotheses, Kitt was slow to react when his transponder was remotely activated, causing a nanosecond delay in opening a channel. He initially assumed it was Bonnie calling, having heard from security that he was home, but then Kitt realised where the signal was coming from.
The comlink. Michael.
He shut off the music. "Michael, is that you? Please respond."
Please, he thought, please let me know that you are safe.
"Kitt?" His friend's voice came clear and strong across the link, sounding to Kitt like he could almost be speaking from Devon's office. "Yeah, it's me, it's Michael."
"Where are you?" Kitt asked, attempting to trace the location of his signal. He was close, within a range of 300 metres.
"Close by," Michael told him quietly. "Can you do something for me?"
Kitt hesitated. "Of course, Michael," he answered, distressed by his reluctance. Under normal circumstances, he would have agreed immediately.
"Thanks, buddy. I'm on my way to the Foundation, but I'll need to avoid the main drive – can you scan for me, and have the rear gates open when I arrive?"
The rear gates were only used as access for the semi, which was too wide and heavy to negotiate the circular drive in front of the mansion. The alternative route connected directly to the forecourt outside the garage complex.
"What should I look for?"
"A Limousine," Michael's voice told him.
Devon must have sent a car for him, unable to tell Kitt when he was out on a test drive. Another reason for disliking Charles 'You can call me Chuck' Wallyburton.
"One of the Foundation's fleet?" he asked hopefully.
"Ah, no," Michael hedged, "another Limo."
"Michael – did Devon send for you?"
"Not exactly, but don't say anything, Kitt. Please?"
Kitt didn't like this. There was a furtive tone in his partner's voice that was making him apprehensive, but he had to trust him. What else could he do?
"As you wish," Kitt confirmed. "Is that all?"
"For now," Michael said. "Thanks, pal."
"Michael, I hope you know what you're doing."
How many times must he have issued the same warning over the past two years? Not that Michael ever heeded his counsel, stubbornly insisting that he could take care of himself. Kitt knew that his human partner was perfectly capable, both physically and mentally, of working alone, but Kitt's argument had always been that he didn't have to. They were partners, after all.
"So do I, Kitt," Michael replied. "Be ready."
"I'll be here, Michael."
Kitt processed this new development: Michael was safe and returning to the Foundation. The only difficulty would be if Devon hadn't sent for him after all, and tried to block whatever Michael was planning.
Kitt scanned the premises. Devon hadn't moved from his desk all morning, but Bonnie would probably on her way back to the garage soon, expecting a report from Kitt on the aborted test run with Charles Wallyburton. He couldn't risk her meeting Michael here, although he knew where her sympathies lay.
Kitt opened a link to her console. "Bonnie?"
"Kitt?" she responded immediately. "Have you completed the run already?"
"Yes, Bonnie," he told her. "Mr Wallyburton had to leave early. I'm not sure he would be the right candidate for the position at all."
"I know he isn't," Bonnie said bluntly. "Don't worry about it, Kitt. Let me just finish this code, and I'll join you."
"There's no hurry, Bonnie," Kitt heard himself insisting. "I'm not going anywhere. In fact, this is a rare opportunity to switch off and charge my power packs for half an hour."
"Why do they need recharging?" she demanded. "What has that – man – being putting you through?"
"The usual manoeuvres and demands on my systems, nothing too exerting," Kitt admitted, using the brave voice he employed when covering for Michael. Would the ploy work this time?
"No problems?"
"None at all!"
"I think you should run your self-diagnostic program, Kitt, just as a precaution," Bonnie advised. She sounded genuinely concerned, which wasn't his intention at all.
"I will, Bonnie," he promised her. "Thank you."
Deceiving Bonnie was only making the current situation worse, but it wouldn't be for long. Devon would have to listen if Michael came to him with proof of his innocence. Opening the comlink channel, Kitt waited for his partner's arrival at the gates.
The worst two days of his existence would soon be over.
