Our Trusty Getaway Car
Chapter Three
Personal Log: June, Saturday
. . . I haven't allowed Wilton's little monstrosity a moment's peace since the old badger died and I'm not going to start now; especially now. That machine may have delayed the inevitable, but I will have my vengeance once all the pawns are in place . . .
Sandulf
Two in the morning central time came far too quickly for KITT. In fact, time seemed to be speeding by at the same rate asphalt was passing under his tires. He hadn't stopped moving since leaving Denver and it was actually the automobile transporter's idea to keep heading east. He had ridden along with it until the driver needed to pull over and rest. Boy, had the trucker been surprised to see an extra vehicle on board; downright stunned when said vehicle backed off the rig and raced down the dusty road. The memory only served to show KITT how wrong this situation was.
Even with his built up fortitude to see this decision through he was, by nature, a submissive being, possessing a strong sense of justice and a hearty dose of pride. Now, he was choosing to run away from home, hide from the authorities and stow away on the back of tractor trailers. Inadvertently, his mind's ear could hear Michael chide:
"You? Skipping town? Running from the law? Hitchhiking?! My how the mighty have fallen . . ."
I need to focus on a destination not come up with ways Michael could amuse himself at my expense he thought curtly, reducing the voice of his former partner to the background. It always struck him as strange how in his imaginings he would default to Michael's friendly joking or Bonnie's helpful advice; even Devon had a place in corrective scolding. Then again, to even have such imagery, to begin with, was absurd. He was a computer after all and computers didn't envision things; a fact that didn't stop it from happening. He redirected his thoughts.
"Where am I running to?"
He scanned ahead and picked up a road sign reading: York Next Exit. He wouldn't access his satellite link for demographics in fear FLAG would be able to triangulate his location, but if he recalled correctly, York was a small town in Nebraska, not far from Lincoln. He couldn't stop here; it was too close to Colorado. The Foundation would soon be searching everywhere within a two hundred mile radius of that state and something deep within him didn't want to be found by the organization just yet. Still, the small city of York's name gave him an idea.
FLAG wasn't going to stop until they recovered him and it would only be a matter of time before they did, but being found wouldn't be a problem if he had time to sort out an answer before going back. Therefore, he needed to travel to a place where he could access a good bank of resources safely and remain under the Foundation's radar for at least another week. Where could he go to be surrounded by free Wi-Fi connections and in the last place anyone would suspect him?
New York City. It was big enough to keep a low profile, tech-savvy enough to tap into plenty of free internet cafes and still a location no one would think him to be at. He regularly emphasized how much he disliked New York City; too noisy with its congested roads having traffic regulations even native New Yorkers couldn't navigate and potholes large enough to swallow cars whole. The memory of Abigail teasingly threatening to buy him an 'I love NY' bumper sticker came to mind. Oh, how he missed her. So many memories in that city . . . maybe he should reconsider . . . no, he was going. He had to.
With a destination finally chosen, a burden relieved for him. All he needed to do now was head towards the Big Apple and address specifics once he got there. However, just as one weight lifted, another pressed down in its place. What transpired around this same time Friday morning was something he wished he could erase, but, at the same time, remember forever. Last Thursday night's phone call at the mansion might have been disconcerting for him, but what took place later on was the true reason he had taken off. Curse his expansive memory modules and wandering task directives.
For all his upgrades and advancements there came significant drawbacks; frightening drawbacks. Boredom was the usual foe of his powerful CPU, but the faster he could process information the more connections he could make in supposedly human affairs. It helped in keeping his drivers safe, but it eroded his innocence of the world. Crimes, malice, and fear surrounded him all the time in his line of work. It troubled him that his human counterparts had to always deal with these nightmares of life and even more upsetting for him that he could still be so unaware; so naive. He had witnessed so much evil over the past twenty-two years and yet so much good. Every gesture had a meaning and sometimes he couldn't tell what the motive was behind every action because people he was supposed to trust . . .
He felt his processor shutter and quickly adjusted his thinking. He needed to stay focused and figure out his current problem. If he was to come up with a complete picture of events then he would need to revisit Friday's memories, even if he really didn't want to. He rarely experienced such levels of distress; it was tiring. What happened early that morning both touched him deeply and terrified him utterly. Their earnest care for him mixed with his unknown fear of them? No . . . for them, his fear for them not of them . . . why . . . His memories of human emotions; learning the differences between a laugh and a cry; wondering about the similarities between fear and anger and warming up to the thought he might actually possess the ability to . . . no. He didn't want to admit it because, on some base level, he thought that if he could deny it he would be protected from those sensations that have been chasing him for so long.
Which is completely illogical; plain insanity. I have, as they say, gone off the deep end. Obviously, five months of inactivity and neglect must have placed some of my systems into disrepair without me realizing it, he internalized before saying: "I should be heading straight back to the Foundation and having myself fully serviced. So why aren't I heading back?"
He wasn't going to answer himself out loud, (that would be a little bizarre), but he did need a response to that question of why; why couldn't he go back, why was this so confusing, why was he acting this way? Unfortunately, he didn't have a solid answer or a logical reason or even a valid excuse. All he had to go on was supposed to be impossible for him to have and that wasn't good enough. It was time to review his memory banks; hunt down anything he might have missed, no matter how upsetting it might be to do so.
He'd gone to Bonnie's around midnight. He hadn't meant to be such a bother to her so early, but she had been closer to the estate than Michael; it was uncomfortable enough leaving his garage let alone traveling too far away from FLAG's grounds. Seeing as ten years ago he never would have even considered such a move without direct instruction from his driver or the 'powers that be', it was shaping up to be an eventful meeting. At the time, he chalked his behavior up to Michael's returned influence on him, but somehow he knew better than that.
Three Mornings Ago
"I'm sorry, Kitt, but I'm not finding anything on Jonathan Gadson and I don't remember him being involved in anything suspicious, at least not while I've been in contact with Flag," Bonnie said to the black T-top currently parked in her two-car garage. She was seated on a collection of boxes she had moved aside earlier to make room for her unexpected visitor. The plastic containers were just odds and ends she hadn't had time to unpack since moving back to Los Angeles, but now they served as an impromptu desk for her. She set her laptop down in favor of a nice cup of hot coffee.
"Are you sure, Bonnie? Have you tried criminal records in foreign districts perhaps?" KITT supplied helpfully. She let out an exasperated sigh.
"Kitt, I've exhausted all the resources I have available to me and he still checks out cleaner than a whistle. You checked all your online databases, right?"
"Double-checked. I couldn't find anything either."
"You say that like it's a bad thing. Am I missing something? Is there more going on?" Bonnie asked worriedly. Why was he so adamant that things weren't okay? His silence did nothing to ease her concern. "Maybe we didn't catch something in the recording. Play it back and we'll see," she offered, setting her cup down.
"No, Bonnie. I'm just sorry I troubled you with this when all the available evidence obviously points to nothing," he stated. Bonnie could practically hear the unspoken . . .
"But . . ." she prompted.
"But, if you insist, I can play it back for us," he said hopefully. She smiled.
"I do insist. Go ahead."
They both listened to the conference call KITT had tapped into at the Foundation; reliving moments of anger and fear they experienced the first time around. However, by the end of it the Foundation was staying and so was KITT; much to Bonnie's relief. Scott was even going to have KITT brought to the hotel for the banquet and announcement. There was the little matter of the whole organization moving to Seattle, but it sounded like Jonathan would be taking care of things not making them worse.
Nevertheless, she noticed the red scanner on the car's prow racing back and forth; an uncontrollable practice the computer had when anxious. He was still frantically processing, trying to attain more data.
"What is it, Kitt?"
"I don't know. Something is wrong about this, Bonnie, but I have no proof to back up my statement," he said in frustration and a hint of embarrassment.
"So in other words, you're saying you have a bad feeling about this," she said with a raised eyebrow. She knew the AI would deny it. In three, two, one . . .
"No. I'm thinking my voice analyzer must be operating improperly and my readings were off. That must be the problem," he said matter of factually. Yup, it never seemed to fail. If the prospect suited him, KITT would show a whole array of emotions ranging from offended to overjoyed, but let it confuse him or touch that ever so sensitive ego of his and it was the impassive, aloof computer bit. Oh, well, she'd go along with it for now.
"How about I have a look at your systems and see?" she offered standing up and approaching him. Without the slightest hesitation, the hood to the vehicle rose up while the driver side door swung open.
"I thought you'd never ask," he said happily. Bonnie sighed. She couldn't believe she just played into KITT's ploy of getting a free diagnostic.
"You're incorrigible, you know that right?"
"I do," he replied with a touch of mischief in his tone. She couldn't help but smirk and shake her head. Truth was, she had been itching for an opportunity to peek under the hood and with that, she quickly walked over to her toolbox. The examination would be brief but appreciated. Bonnie didn't have all the tools necessary to do a thorough check-up considering some of the newer functions in the car were on a nanoscale, but she would do her best and that was just fine with KITT. For the most part, she was just spot-checking most things and running simple maintenance on others while he voiced his contentment and suggestions. Officially, she could get into trouble for just having KITT there let alone working on him, but it was worth the risk to Bonnie. It was a chance for her to see with her own two eyes and hands how the AI had been treated. After a few moments, she received her answer.
"These caps are tight and look at all this debris. There's even corrosion starting to build up on some of your casings and the lubricant on the O-rings are dissolving. When's the last time they checked all your fluids Kitt or cleaned up?" she asked in a dissatisfied tone. KITT could tell she was upset.
"Well, it has been a very tumultuous time lately and . . ." he hesitated, not wanting to worry her any further. But Bonnie still had a way of 'coaxing' information from the AI even after all these years.
"Out with it, Kitt!"
"The last time my systems were checked over was about four weeks ago, but I haven't had a full inspection or cleaning in over three months," he said in a reserved manner.
"Four weeks?! Three months?! That's ridiculous Kitt! I know they don't have a lead engineer, but they still have techs. As much punishment as you take they should have been doing a heck of a lot more than just basic maintenance once a week and they couldn't even do that? This . . . this is inexcusable! Kitt, why didn't you tell me the last time I was at the mansion?" she voiced angrily while forcefully pulling out the stiff dipstick. He internally cringed.
"I'm sorry, Bonnie. We were preoccupied yesterday and the last time you visited I was only overdue by a week; hardly anything to bother you with at the time especially since you had that important paper to work on. Besides, I haven't seen much action here lately," he said humbly. Bonnie sighed. She hadn't meant to get upset with him. After all, it really wasn't his fault; if anything she should have asked.
"No, it's okay, Kitt. It doesn't look like any lasting damage was done. Thanks for helping me with that paper by the way. It was well received by the journal and I'm working on the second study now," she said happily, wiping some fluid off on a clean rag nearby and starting her own tune-up process.
"Congratulations, I'm glad to hear that. If you need any more help . . ."
"I'll know right where to go, though when I listed you as a source last time I had to explain, a lot."
"Academia's still not considering artificial intelligence a viable reference?"
"Afraid not."
"Pity, I think I could offer quite a bit to the scientific community," KITT said with pride evident. Bonnie couldn't help but smile. She missed working so closely with the AI; the openness she could have with him was refreshing.
"I know the kids at the university would love to get hands-on experience with you, Kitt. Mm, it looks like they've added several new components here since I last worked on you," Bonnie stated as she came around to the driver's seat to check on the internal devices. She was surprised to see how much had changed; how everything was so concise and compact. Completely different from the flashing lights and dial buttons of the eighties and early nineties.
"Seventy-two to be exact; upgrades mostly. I will admit, Evelyn did a fine job in redesigning the interior cabin. I'd like to see Michael compare it to Darth Vader's bathroom now," KITT quipped. She looked to the vanishing bars of light on the voice box located just above the steering yoke; one of the few things that hadn't changed. It served as a visual queue for when the AI was speaking, but more often than not it provided a focal point to direct questions to.
"You mean he hasn't tried to sneak a peek inside you?" Bonnie asked with genuine surprise in her voice. Michael was well known for his 'inquisitive' nature; part of being a good investigator and all that. She was sure he visited KITT a few times. She couldn't imagine him skipping over the opportunity to climb back in the driver's seat time and again, unless, it was never presented.
"No, he hasn't," the computer said quietly.
"So, he never asks and you never offer," she stated bluntly.
Silence met her reply. It was poignant, but the reasoning behind it wasn't beyond her. Time had a strange way of changing things; she decided to leave it at that. Continuing on with evaluations in her own contemplative quiet, Bonnie moved from driver's seat to the hood to under the car until she was satisfied.
"Well, Kitt, it looks like everything's in order. Run another diagnostic just to be safe," she said.
"Of course," KITT said with little enthusiasm. Bonnie frowned. He sounded so . . . dejected. She had to admit, part of the reason she started visiting KITT in person again was because of how depressed he sounded in their correspondences. He seemed to have brightened up over the past few months, but now he sounded as despondent as before. Her heart ached, but the confusion over this whole situation weighed more heavily on her mind.
"Anything?" she asked.
"No," he replied flatly. She sighed. At this point, her rational side told her she should say everything's fine, direct KITT to head back to the Foundation and wait for the new transitions to take place. Instead, she turned, walked into the house, retrieved her cordless phone and came back out to the garage.
"I'm calling Michael," she voiced, dialing the number from memory.
"Don't do that, Bonnie. It's already two-thirty in the morning and I regret waking you up for apparently no reason. I don't want to bother Michael too. He never seems to get enough rest as it is," KITT said quickly; fretfully. She held the device to her ear.
"He might know something we don't, Kitt. You came out here because something's bothering you and we're going to figure it out. Besides, knowing Michael, he's probably not asleep yet anyway," she said calmly, though her insides were turning.
One exasperating phone call and restless forty-five-minute wait later lead to the appearance of headlights in Bonnie's suburban home driveway. She opened the side door of the garage and met Michael out on the walk with a cup of much-needed coffee, skipping the unnecessary pleasantries. He accepted the caffeine with a tired smile.
"Thanks. I'm guessing we're in here, right?" Michael said before taking a sip. Bonnie nodded as she stepped back inside. He did the same noticing the cardboard boxes and plastic tubs lining the walls. It was the first time he had been in here, having only visited twice before. A familiar whooshing sound pulled his focus from the clutter to the sleek, black car centered in the space. He shook his head in mild disbelief. Only KITT could get him out here to an old colleagues' house at three in the morning with an explanation as vague as 'you have to listen to this.'
"Well, I made it here . . ." Michael began.
"And I see you took your jeep this time. The 1956 Chevy not an early riser?" KITT asked with mock innocence; the rib it was meant to be not lost on the tall man.
"Haha, real funny, pal, but I still love that car and she's a heck of a lot more fun at burger joints then you ever were," Michael shot back. Bonnie couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"Yes and judging by your physique, you may have been frequenting those establishments too much as of late."
"Okay, Kitt, that's just a low blow. You're not exactly top of the line anymore either."
"Well, I could agree with you, but then we'd both be wrong."
Bonnie snickered, but cut it off sharply when Michael set his coffee mug down on a nearby box hard. He lifted his hands up to his waist, almost defensively.
"I can't believe this," the man said with a mix of real irritation, "Did I get up at this God-forsaken hour to be heckled about my car and looks?"
Silence, then . . .
"I'm sorry, Michael. I do appreciate you coming all the way out here. I know it's early," KITT said quietly as his scanner rolled to one side and blinked out. The man let out a small breath of air and lowered his arms; he really was becoming cranky in his old age.
"Nah, forget it, Kitt. I'm just tired that's all. It is early, I'll give you that much," he said a little more good-naturedly, trying to soothe the tense atmosphere created. He really hadn't meant to snap at the AI. After all, egging each other on was just something they did and used to do, especially when under a lot of stress. Sometimes it was the only way to stay sane in each other's company for those long stints of time they had to. In fact, it was Michael who usually stirred the pot first and then it occurred to him; KITT had thrown the first jab. It may have been a while since he worked with the state of the art computer, but Michael could still read aspects of his old partner's mood and KITT appeared to embody nervous tension.
"Kitt and I want you to listen to the conference he recorded last night and then give us your thoughts on it," Bonnie stated as she pulled up a tub, indicating for Michael to sit down. He gave her a curious look. Why couldn't this have waited until later this morning like the original plan? Heck, Bonnie hadn't even been on board with this whole eavesdropping idea to begin with, so, why the sudden interest? He was about to voice his opinions when she gave him a knowing glance that said 'just shut up and do it, okay'. He plopped down on the bin and turned his attention back to the Trans Am.
"Alright, Kitt, let's have it."
The same recorded dialogue filled the garage once again. Similar reactions Bonnie had earlier played across Michael's features followed by some she hadn't, but by the end of it, his reaction carried the same amount of relief. There was no such reaction from the AI. KITT's scanner seemed to thrash in time to a rocket launch; his processor humming loud enough for both Michael and Bonnie to hear. Obviously, KITT was upset.
"Is there something I'm missing?" Michael asked pointedly. There was a pause longer than there should have been.
"No, Michael, there isn't,'" KITT said in such a hollow tone that both humans gave each other worried glances.
"I don't get it then. What's wrong? It sounds like they're going to keep the Foundation going? Unless this Jonathan guy is bad news," Michael said, his eyes clouding with mistrust. Bonnie shook her head.
"No, Mr. Gadson checks out fine. Even Kitt can't find anything wrong with him and the corporations he's worked for in the past are legitimate. He's been on the board for eight years," she stated.
"Please, something isn't right! You must believe me . . ." KITT voiced in such a desperate manner it appeared to startle the AI himself as he abruptly stopped. For a moment, Bonnie and Michael sat in silence until the latter broke it.
"Was he lying?" he directed his question to KITT. A few slow treks of the car's scanner followed.
"My voice analyzer didn't pick up any indication he was. None of the parties to that conversation were being deceitful, though Mr. Wellington was understandably upset and Dr. Philips likewise agitated," KITT answered in his calm, calculated tone; a betrayer of his attempt to disconnect from the situation. Michael and Bonnie knew this and Michael decided to act on past experience.
"Well, don't tell me you're afraid to move to Seattle," he stated dryly, trying to bait the AI into becoming indignant and possibly more talkative; a dirty trick he knew, but quick and effective.
"Technically, I can't be afraid of anything, you know that, Michael. I would go to Anchorage, Alaska if that's what was required of me," KITT stated with obvious aggravation. The tall man leaned forward, anticipating the long explanation his old friend would rattle off any second now, but instead . . .
"I apologize for disturbing you, Michael, Bonnie. As much as I don't like to admit it, I must have been mistaken. This clearly could have waited until later this morning and, evidently, everything appears fine. Hopefully, you're enjoying the coffee," KITT said pleasantly. The bait was taken, but the hook was untouched. The man narrowed his eyes.
"Yeah, and, evidently, you're trying to change the subject. Care to explain why that is?"
Silence.
"Answer me, Kitt! Five seconds ago you were begging something was wrong and now it's fine. Why am I out here at three in the morning if everything's fine?!"
"Three-thirty three actually . . ."
"Whatever!"
"I'm sorry . . ." KITT said softly.
Bonnie could see this wasn't going to end well and decided to step in.
"Michael, could you come with me for a few minutes, please," she asked, opening the door leading back into the house while nodding her head in the direction of the car, "We'll be right back, Kitt."
There was no room for argument in her tone. The man gave another irritated glance towards the windshield of the Pontiac before reluctantly standing up and following Bonnie inside. They went through a short hallway which doubled as a laundry room before turning the corner into the kitchen. She gestured for him to continue on to the adjoining living room while she poured more coffee into her mug. Michael found the blue armchair he sat in last time he was here and rubbed a hand over his face. KITT was freaking out and wouldn't tell them why. It really was too early for this.
"Would you like some more coffee?" Bonnie offered, trying to relieve the tension. It worked.
"Sure, why not? You know, this will be the second time in a row you've called me up early in the morning," he said with no animosity in the statement. He too wanted a lighter atmosphere.
"Yeah, well I'll try not to let it become a habit," Bonnie said in her dry humor as she walked over with another cup for him. Michael gave out a short laugh as he took it.
"That or I'll need to start turning my phone off at night. Good coffee by the way," he mentioned as he took a sip. She smiled.
"Thanks, it's not what I usually drink but I figured I would need something stronger to stay up . . . wait, here I am talking about coffee. It really is getting late or early or whatever."
"Tell me about it."
"I'm sorry, Michael, but you're the one who put him up to this, remember?"
"Oh, yeah."
"When Kitt came by at twelve I was just as confused as you were. . ."
"Twelve?! You've been up since then?"
"It's no big deal; I've graded papers until four. Anyway, when he first got here he seemed to be adamant Jonathan wasn't being truthful, but he couldn't give me a reason why, so we reviewed the recording and checked databases. We found nothing and he admitted there was nothing, but then he insisted we check again, so we did. There was still nothing. Then he wanted me to look over him and make sure he wasn't malfunctioning," Bonnie stated in all seriousness. Michael seemed to digest what she was saying with concern.
"Is he okay?" he asked.
"As far as I can tell, yes. I don't have all the equipment necessary to do a thorough check. There were a few minor mechanical issues, but for all intents and purposes everything is working properly," she explained.
"Let me guess, he was still not convinced so you called me?"
"Sort of. I think he's trying to convince himself everything's okay, but he can't. He's so upset and I . . . I'm upset too. I thought everything was going to be fine, but he's acting like they're going to dismantle him tomorrow. I called you because I'm not sure about any of this anymore. I wanted a second opinion," Bonnie admitted, the heartache in her voice unmistakable. Michael nodded in understanding. He knew how upset about KITT she was to start with.
"It's okay, Bonnie . . ."
"I don't know, this all sounds crazy. Maybe I'm crazy," she said in a tone of voice that Michael didn't like. She bowed her head.
"Don't say that. You're not crazy," Michael stated solemnly. He knew she was starting to slip back into that same distraught mindset from yesterday. She gave a slow nod as he sighed. This was supposed to help clear up the issue and give them both some peace of mind, but now he felt like they opened up a can of peace eating worms. He needed to go over the facts so far.
KITT was normally the reasonable one; at least anytime he had interacted with him. Gather concrete evidence, research solid facts, come to a workable solution to the problem; all very logical; all very KITT. What Bonnie had described to him and what he'd seen firsthand was almost absurd; defending a dilemma with no proof, running out in the wee hours of the morning seeking advice while deviating from a set plan, backing down from said argument and picking fights; so unlike his old rational partner. However, it did sound an awful lot like someone in distress. KITT was sensing something amiss even though there was nothing the computer could do to prove it . . .
"Okay, so Kitt feels something's wrong," Michael finally said. Bonnie seemed to weigh that thought in her mind for a moment.
"Yes, I think so, but you know how sensitive he is about that topic. Sometimes it's hard to tell."
"Well, why else would he come out here? He had to feel it was pretty urgent to bother us with it now."
"I don't know, Michael, and he either can't or won't tell me. Kitt has certainly grown over the last few years and he's become a heck of a lot more independent than I remember, but he'll deny every bit of it. If I say, you feel something's wrong, he wants to change the subject and if I say, okay it's fine, he won't let the subject drop . . . maybe there is something internally wrong with his systems or he really is upset about moving to Seattle; I just don't know. I guess I should just have him go back to the Foundation, but . . . I wish I knew what to do," Bonnie stated as she placed her mug down on the coffee table.
Michael looked across to her briefly before turning his gaze back to his half-empty cup. The ideas trying to gain momentum in his mind were being met with the resisting winds of past decisions. He had set this life down a long time ago and had no intentions of picking it back up again, absolutely none. But this was KITT, not a case for the Foundation or an investigation for business, just KITT. This should be treated as a favor for an old friend and that was exactly what he was going to do.
Bonnie watched as his demeanor changed. He was up to something.
"What are you thinking?"
He looked back up at her with an elfin grin.
"I'm thinking we need to do a little bit of digging."
"But, Michael, we can't," Bonnie said, surprised more than anything. Here was a man who had sworn off this kind of 'work' for good and now he was willing to start up again.
"And why not?" he responded in the same tone, almost astonished he was going to do it too.
"For one, we don't have any real reason to. There's no proof anything's wrong. Even considering all the rumors, what we just heard from the conference basically explains them all," Bonnie started.
"All I want to do is go up and talk to a few people. Maybe Scotty knows more about this?" he suggested as he set his mug down a little faster than he meant to. Some of the coffee spilled out on his hand and he drew it back quickly.
"This isn't the nineteen-eighties, Michael," Bonnie stressed as she handed him some tissues from a nearby tissue box. "You can't just go up to the Foundation and start asking questions without a reason. Plus you and Scott don't exactly have the best of relationships. If you went up there and started in on him, he'll begin to wonder how you know so much," she said coolly. He didn't want to admit it, but she was right. He couldn't just go up and ask about something he shouldn't know anything about. Still, it didn't deter his desire to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering KITT.
"Well, what if one of them knew we were listening in already and staged the conference call?" Michael began, knowing how stupid that sounded. He was grasping at straws and Bonnie was about to burn them.
"Well, for our sakes let's hope not. Eavesdropping is a very serious crime and phone tapping is even worse. Not to mention, we recorded it, Michael. Uh! How did I let you talk me into this?!" she exasperated, "For what it's worth, I don't think the phone conference was staged, but Kitt is still upset about it. Maybe, we shouldn't have done this."
"Wait, the banquet's Friday night. That's it! I could ask then; I mean it will be common knowledge by that point and I can't get in trouble seeing as I was invited," he smiled.
"That could work. It's probably what we should have done in the first place," she reasoned, calm returning to her voice, "but what if we don't find anything?"
"We'll worry about that when we get to it-," Michael was interrupted by the sound of metal scrapping past metal and a familiar mechanical hum. Bonnie jumped up.
"The garage door!" she exclaimed as she shot off down the hall, followed by Michael. Before even reaching the laundry room, the pair heard the recognizable turbine engine roar to life. "Kitt, no!"
Bonnie swung open the door and Michael bolted past her as fast as he could towards the . . . stationary Pontiac.
"What's going on buddy?" Michael asked breathily, just as the trolley to the garage door connected with the gearbox.
"I was just thinking I should get back to the Foundation, Michael. It is becoming rather early and I certainly wouldn't want to be discovered missing," KITT said evenly as he quieted his engine to silent mode.
"And you were going to leave without saying goodbye?" the tall man asked sharply, the disappointment evident in his voice.
"No, I knew you and Bonnie would come out at the sound of the garage door opening. Those things aren't known for their subtlety. I didn't mean to alarm you, however," the AI replied.
"We were only going to be a few more minutes, Kitt," Michael began, but Bonnie placed a gentle hand on the man's shoulder as a gesture of patience. She knew that when she was tired and upset there was very little productive conversation to be had and she assumed Michael was the same way.
"That's okay, Kitt. I think you should head back to the Foundation too. We can talk more about this tomorrow morning," she said in a level-headed tone, causing Michael to fold his arms across his chest in agitation.
"I believe you mean this morning. It's almost four am," KITT corrected only to receive irritated glares from both of them. His scanner flashed.
"Sorry. Goodnight," he bid them as he backed out of the garage slowly, careful to avoid Michael's jeep in the driveway.
"Goodnight, Kitt," Bonnie said as she watched the retreating Trans Am. She then turned her attention to Michael, who was still looking miffed.
"There's no sense in discussing something we aren't going to do anything about until this evening, right?"
There was a short pause as he looked down at her tired face. He must have reflected the same exhaustion as she let out a worn-out sigh.
"Yeah, I guess," he relented, unfolding his arms.
"Alright then. One more thing for you to do."
"And what's that?"
"Choose between driving all the way back home or sleeping on an overstuffed couch."
. . . It does not envy . . .
