Disclaimer: I do not own Knight Rider or any attached characters. Cadge and the story, how ever, are all mine.
Chapter 3: Can I Keep Him?
Billy Morgan stood in the parking garage near a black semi and its large trailer at ten at night. The trailer door was opened with a ramp leading from its back to the floor, awaiting its cargo that was already fifteen minutes late. He was waiting for FLAG's suppliers to bring them the latest equipment for the base. Ever sense FLAG had started off from scratch, it had been left with what ever the original Knight Industries had left in its storage rooms, which wasn't much, once you got all the cables and wires out of the way. Which got Billy to thinking—he worked not with one, but two hot chicks, a talking car, and an ex-soldier who had seen everything from mutants to an insane stalker car… and he was the only looser! Sometimes, Billy wondered why he bothered working with the Foundation for Law and Government—Zoe Chae knew how to fight and was a better hacker than him. Sarah Graiman was the super smart, sexy and rich scientist gal who was the unofficial girlfriend of the very rugged and ass-kicking Michael Knight, as well as the driver of the sentient, super-advanced KITT, standing for Knight Industries Three Thousand, and Billy was… the geek.
So why did he stick around, any way? Was it for the sake of being with in the attention span of the hot-and-sexy women? Was it to talk with Kitt for long hours only because the car didn't know enough to tell him to shut up? Or was it just because he knew that he would have no where else he could go other than here? Lord knew he didn't want to go back to being a telephone salesman…
Billy was cut out from his self-loathing and self-pitying thoughts when a distant sports car engine hum sounded out. Behind it were several sirens of police cars. Going over to the side of the parking garage, as he was up on the third floor, he looked down. The streets were abandoned, but head lights lit up the road a moment before a blue and yellow racy-looking Acura sports car sped around the corner and heading towards the parking garage. Just as the Acura entered the garage, eight police cars came down the street, skidding around the corner after the Acura. Two police cars crashed into each other and slid off to the side.
Billy looked up as the Acura's panicked engine growl came up the ramp of the parking garage. Twin head lights blinded Billy in the dim golden lighting before speeding at him. Yelling out in surprise, Billy threw himself to the side of the truck to avoid being hit. Rather than hit him, though, the car spun around and ran up the ramp of the trailer backwards, slamming on its brakes. It bumped into the back of the trailer, making the trailer doors swing partially shut with the force of the bump, before it cut off its engine and the head lights turned dark. Billy looked at the trailer, astonished, then back to the ramp as the police cars continued driving up it, ignorant of where their prey had gone. Slowly, Billy walked over to the back of the trailer and peeked in. He wished he had a gun; then he could at least be a little prepared if the car turned about to be driven by murderous street thugs or the like.
But when he looked inside the trailer, much to his surprise, he saw a Porsche, and not an Acura. Could he have been mistaken? No, no, there had defiantly been a spoiler on the back and a definite body change. Billy stared at the car for a long moment. When no one came out, he got onto the ramp and slowly and hesitantly approached the car. He clung to the trailer's wall, ready to jump back if the car suddenly charged out or people started shooting from with in the car; either option was highly probable with his luck.
But upon reaching the car, he was surprised to hear it vibrating irregularly on its tires, as if a silent bass song was playing whose beat was off. Then he saw that some of its washer fluid was leaking out and its side mirrors were hanging unusually low. It looks scared. Who the hell designed this car?
"What the heck…?" he muttered, reaching a hand out and gently knocking his knuckles on the driver's door window. "Um, hello?" he called. "Is anyone in there?"
When no one responded, he wrapped a hand around the driver's door handle and pulled, opening the car door up as wide as he could in the narrow space, which wasn't very far.
But far enough to show that there was no one in the driver's seat.
Billy straightened up, looking down at the car with a blank look of acceptance on his face. He shut the car door, then turned and slowly walked out of the trailer, not even bothering to hide against the wall. Behind him, the Porsche's side mirrors perked up a little as its washer fluid stopped leaking. It rose up on its wheels somewhat and its engine started with a quiet purr.
"Not another Kitt," Billy moaned outside the trailer, rubbing his face. "Not another Karr, not another living car!"
Something pumped into his legs and he spun around with a frightened shout. It was the Porsche. Bobby noted the change of position in the washer fluid excretion and the side mirrors then noticed that the black gap of its grill was slightly wider with its corners turned up. The windshield wipers crossed over the windshield twice to clean off the wiper fluid as it stopped squirting, then the car rose a little on its front wheels as its side mirrors perked up some more. A small creak of gears sounded when the gap for the grille widened in a cheesy smile. Then it backed up into the trailer, rolled forward, and backed off. Its engine purred pleasantly.
"Oh no," Billy groaned.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
"You did what!?" Sarah, Michael, and Zoe all yelled.
"It wouldn't leave the trailer!" Bobby defended himself. "That and it led me to where the equipment sellers were waiting for me—jerks were deliberately hiding in another parking garage. They got some sort of taboo against selling to federal agents…"
"Where is this driverless car now, Bobby?" Sarah growled.
Bobby looked at his feet, then at his team mates then looked behind him self at the parked semi that was just barely squeezed into the base's main floor. Sarah's face fell in shock.
"You brought it here?" Michael demanded.
"It wouldn't leave the trailer!" Bobby defended as Michael stalked over to the trailer. "And it's in the back, behind the weapon computers…"
A few minutes later, the equipment had been moved away in a feverish pace and Michael stepped out of the trailer, looking at the Porsche that was hidden behind it. It looked normal—street wise, expensive, and sweet in its blue and yellow paint job, but normal.
"Bobby," he began, looking over his shoulder at the geek, "Are you sure it's—"
Suddenly, the Porsche started up, revving its engine with a short, high burst followed by a short, low burst; a sort of hello. It began to slowly roll out of the trailer and Michael jumped out of the way. The car stopped at the foot of the ramp and parked there. Its highlights twitched as it looked around and around the base, taking in the dark interior, the humans, and above all, the black Mustang locked in a sort of circular frame near by.
"Wow, hot!" Zoe exclaimed.
The engine hummed, first high then low, but not as extreme as the previous vocalization, and quicker.
"I think it just said thank you," Bobby whispered to Zoe, flattered to see Zoe so thrilled for his discovery.
"Okay, so now we have apparently another sentient car running around without a driver, or," Sarah said, glancing at the front of the car. "No real plate numbers. All its license plates say is 'Cadge'."
"Is that your name, hot stuff?" Michael asked the car, "Cadge? Honk twice if it's yes, or once if its no."
The car honked twice.
Suddenly, a red light began to pulse in the black car as it woke up.
"Sarah? Zoe? Did you fix me?" it asked.
"Yeah, Kitt," Sarah told him. "The techno brothers from a while back knocked your reasoning program out of whack with their music infiltration. It made you your own version of drunk. We got it fixed now."
"Thank you, Sarah and Zoe. I do believe that we have another sentient vehicle with in the facility, if my scanners are correct?"
In response, the Porsche screeched happily as it drove right by Sarah and Zoe, making them jump aside, and it parked itself right next to Kitt as its lights flashed and its engine made a whole series of noises and its windshield wipers flew across its windshield.
"Wow," Michael laughed. "It looks like it likes you, Kitt."
"Agreed, Michael," Kitt replied. "It also appears to be attempting to speak with me, but in its own language of body movements and engine noises. I might figure out its speech patterns with a bit of studying…"
The car suddenly froze, a questioning whine coming from its engine. The wipers lowered themselves as the lights clicked off. Inside, the small screen on its dashboard became filled with a green-lettered list of all sorts of languages. A couple of beeps sounded out and a Mexican male voice suddenly came from the car.
"Tu no hablas la lengua de el auto?"
"What--?" Bobby began to ask.
There was another couple of beeps again and a soft, gentle male voice spoke from the car this time.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I am new to this. Err, you do not speak Machine? I thought that you would as you are, after all, a car!"
"So you do speak," Zoe commented.
"Great, how about you answer some questions?" Michael asked. "Like who are you, who built you, where did you come from and why did you follow Billy around?"
"Hey, there's no need to be hostile to the guy," Billy defended.
"I am Cadge," the Porsche said. "I am an Automated Eye Scanner and Self Driving Vehicle created by… someone for use as an emergency vehicle and army vehicle program for when my drivers are too busy or injured to drive themselves to their destination. But—"Now the Porsche's car engine began to chug unhealthily as its voice cracked slightly. "I don't want to go back! They stick hurtful cables in me all the time, trying to change what I am, and I don't like that! Please don't make me go back! The scrawny human's really nice!"
"Scrawny…?" Billy muttered, looking down at himself.
"Please, please, please, can I stay here with this one?" Cadge whimpered, driving forward, then backing up so that he was closer still to Kitt. "I've always wanted to be with a fellow car, but all the others never speak to me! Please, please, can I stay?"
"Sweetie," Sarah said gently. "You have to go back; if we don't return you, then we're stealing you."
"Then what about this guy—" Cadge asked.
"Kitt, I am Kitt."
"Than what about Kitt? Do you have to return him to who ever owns him?"
"No one owns him," Sarah said carefully. "He's free to come and go as he pleases."
"Then how come no one owns him and people can own me? That doesn't seem fair!"
There was a long moment of silence as Sarah groaned and covered her face with her hands.
"He has a point," Billy pointed out.
"Shut up, I'm thinking," Sarah groaned.
"So… can we keep him?" Billy ventured.
"No!" Sarah and Michael both yelled.
"But he's really friendly," Billy reasoned. "Also, he's doesn't appeared armed, and I promice to wash him regularly, check up on his engine myself, get him some excersise--"
"Well, look," Michael said with a yawn. "It's going on one in the morning already, I've only got four hours of sleep for the past two days, and it's kind of too late to do anything now. How about we leave Kitt to keep an eye on Cadge while we all get some rest? Tomorrow, we can be refreshed enough to talk about getting Cadge home."
"But I don't want to go home," Cadge whimpered.
"Don't worry, Cadge," Billy said. "We'll figure something out so that everyone's happy—I promise."