Chapter Twelve
Kitt rather liked archery, and shooting arrows with Michael and his friends proved to be an interesting experience. Michael was.... well Michael; an excellent marksman, and happy-go-lucky sort, Kitt observed. But somehow Michael seemed different to Kitt. What was it? He wondered. Had something changed?
Kitt searched his memory banks for an answer. No, Michael had not changed, Kitt realized. Kitt, himself, had changed. Not just from a computerized car into a computerized human, but something more than that.
Kitt's life as a car had been relatively simple. He belonged to Michael. They were a team. Kitt always protected Michael, provided technical information, every component and its function was designed to aid Michael. Anything that Michael needed could be had by simply asking Kitt. His job was simple. Kitt knew he was Michael's support system.
Kitt reflected on the past few hours with Michael. Michael drove him in the car, led him through the crowd and helped him obtain the archery equipment. In fact, Michael had been advising, teaching, explaining and guiding him since they walked off the Knight Industries semi.
Suddenly Kitt realized what it was that had changed. Instead of Michael needing Kitt; Kitt now needed Michael. Kitt had always felt confident and knew exactly what to do because he had been programmed with the responses. But now there was a new set of rules. Things that were simple, orderly and straight-forward were now much more complicated. And now, Michael wasn't needing help, he was giving it. Michael was helping Kitt because Kitt needed help.
Was that so bad? Kitt wondered. Maybe not, he reasoned, but he wasn't so sure he liked it. Is this what it means to be human; to need others?
"Looky here, sonny!" Jake called to Kitt. Jake had finished his turn and compared his scores with Kitt's. "Yer better 'n me!" Jake said gleefully. "And to think you did it with my joke arrows!" he exclaimed.
Dora stepped up alongside Kitt and handed him a glass of apple juice. "Care for some apple juice, Kitt?" she said sweetly.
"Thank you, Dora," Kitt said kindly as he took the glass of apple juice from her. "You are very kind to think of me," he added.
Dora's face beamed with pleasure. "You're such a gentleman, Kitt. It is a pleasure," she said patting his left arm gently. "I must say," she said softly as she leaned in closer to Kitt, "you've got quite a knack for shooting targets. Say, if you're not involved, I'd love to introduce you to a lovely lady friend of mine," she said eagerly.
Kitt wasn't sure how to respond. A lady? Dora wanted to introduce him to a lady? Kitt was stunned.
"Oh Dora, now don't you go meddling in this young man's life," Jake grumbled, "I'm sure he's got better things to do than ..."
"Hi everyone!" Jake was interrupted by the cheery sound of Cleon's voice.
Everyone turned to see Cleon walking toward them with an attractive dark-haired woman in her mid-forties.
"Hi, Cleon! Hi Lena!" called Dora, who immediately left Kitt to welcome the couple.
"I hope we're not too late," Lena apologized. "I'm afraid they had me working overtime on another new project."
"I'm so glad you were able to make it, Lena," Dora said warmly. "Why don't you come on over to our table by the archery targets," she said as she led them back toward Jake, Michael and Kitt.
Cleon, Lena and Dora joined the others.
"Welcome back Cleon," Michael said warmly. "This lovely lady must be Lena," Michael said smiling. "I'm Michael Knight, an old friend of Cleon's."
Lena smiled and nodded her head, "Nice to meet you Michael," she said.
Kitt frowned and stared at Michael, loudly clearing his throat.
"Oh yeah," Michael said quickly. "May I introduce my friend, Kitt Kent," he added.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Kitt said politely, still holding the untouched glass of apple juice in his hand.
"Michael was Cleon's little apprentice years ago," Dora commented smiling sweetly.
"Yes Lena, Michael came here on vacation years ago as a young boy," Cleon explained. "I sort of adopted the little fella and showed him a few things. He was a very bright kid with a keen eye. I'm anxious to see if he still 'has it'," Cleon laughed.
"It's true," Michael agreed, smiling. "Cleon taught me everything I needed to know about skilled marksmanship. It was because of Cleon's patient instruction I left here knowing what I wanted to do with my life. He took me under his wing, so to speak and spent much of his free time practicing with me and teaching me. I left here with a burning desire to become the sharpest marksman and finest policeman there ever was."
"How did your parents take to the idea of your being a policeman? Wasn't your dad an insurance man?" asked Dora.
"Unfortunately my parents didn't take to the idea too well," answered Michael. "Being in insurance certainly didn't help his perspective on a career in police work for his only son, but I don't think he believed my interest would hold. In fact, I am sure he hoped it wouldn't."
Kitt listened closely as Michael recounted the story to the small group.
"I remember the ride home from here like it was yesterday," Michael began. "We were all packed-up and heading down the highway. Mom was reading, totally absorbed in some murder-mystery novel while Dad listened to a baseball game on the radio."
"I sat in the backseat and day-dreamed," said Michael as he continued. His gaze focused somewhere off in the distance. I imagined I was the Sheriff protecting my town from 'the bad guys'. I took my black, plastic water-gun and aimed at an imaginary group of train robbers. In my mind's eye, there were seven of them and I was on board the train, ready to blow them away. Taking careful aim at the closest one I yelled, "Take that!" and pulled the trigger of my 'empty' water gun totally unaware that there was still water in the plastic tubing of the gun. I shot my father directly in the back of his head. He screamed and swerved off the road. Some of the water had splattered on my mom's book and she jumped throwing her book out her open window."
Everyone laughed but Kitt.
"Michael, what happened?! Did your father crash?" asked Kitt.
Michael seemed to snap out of his trance. "No, we were fine. There was no other traffic and there isn't much along the highway to crash into. But my Dad did have a few strong words to say to me," Michael said. "I tried to explain to him that it was an accident, and I hadn't known there was any water in the gun, but all I got back was a lecture on the danger of handling loaded weapons. He was furious. He took my water gun and threw it out of the car. I was very upset and started crying. Mom managed to calm Dad and insisted that we talk everything out before getting back on the road. She was raised to believe that hard feelings should be dealt with before they fester."
Michael paused for a moment before continuing, "At that point, I told my parents that Cleon taught me everything about shooting. I explained that Cleon had said I had a "keen" eye and even nicknamed me "Long-shot" for my long-distance hits. I explained that Cleon knew all about shooting because he was a policeman and had earned 'marksmanship' trophies. I told them I was going to be a policeman just like Cleon when I grew up and would rid the world of 'bad guys'. Both my parents patiently listened to what I had to say and then told me that they thought that I was just over-excited from our vacation and my interest in guns and shooting would wane when the next interesting thing came along," finished Michael.
"Little did they know," commented Kitt.
"My parents finally did accept it when I graduated from the police academy," said Michael smiling. "In fact, my dad gave me a shiny new plastic water gun as a graduation gift."
Everyone laughed out-loud.
Dora glanced at the yet untouched glass of apple juice in Kitt's hand. "Is something wrong with the apple juice, Kitt?" she asked with concern.
Kitt stared expressionless at the glass. "I don't believe so," he answered, peering closely into the glass.
"Oh then, go ahead and drink," Dora urged. "You needn't wait," she said gently.
In one steady, long swallow, Kitt emptied the entire glass of apple juice. He smiled, licked his lips and eagerly held his empty glass out toward Dora, "Thank you, Madam."
Dora smiled politely and took the glass from Kitt. "I'll get you some more Kitt, you look very thirsty," she said. "Anyone else care for a nice cool glass of apple juice?" she asked as she reached over for the pitcher.
"I'll take one, Dora," Lena called. "I'm famished. Has everyone eaten?" she asked.
"They have the most delicious barbecued spare ribs here, Lena," Cleon replied. "Would you like me to get you some?" he offered.
Lena smiled and nodded appreciatively.
"Barbecued spare ribs?" Kitt asked with interest.
Michael smiled, "The very best!"
"Why don't we all head over to the buffet tables then?" Dora suggested.
As they made their way to the buffet tables, Michael pulled Kitt aside. "How was the apple juice?" he asked curiously.
Kitt smiled, "Nothing like gasoline or engine coolant, Michael. No gas fumes and much cooler in temperature. The ingredients are: water, apple juice concentrate, and ascorbic acid. One hundred ten calories, zero fat, thirty-five milligrams of sodium, twenty-eight grams sugar and zero protein."
"How did you like it?" Michael asked.
"Like it?" Kitt asked, puzzled. "How do you mean?"
"When you like something you are satisfied, pleased, even desire more of it," Michael explained.
"Oh, I see, Michael," Kitt said thoughtfully. "I like Beethoven, Mozart and Bach, but I don't like flying, salt water or car crushers," he said firmly.
"You're getting it, old buddy," Michael said assuredly. "By the way, next time, drink your juice in shorter sips," he added.
"Michael, there is one thing that puzzles me," Kitt remarked.
"What is that?" Michael asked.
"Well Michael, Jake told me to speak loudly into Cleon's ear because he is hard of hearing, but that doesn't appear to be necessary," said Kitt.
Michael nodded. "Jake told me the same thing, Kitt. But, when I nearly gave Cleon a heart attack by speaking loudly into his ear unexpectedly. Cleon explained the situation to me. A while back, when Cleon was on the police force, he was injured in an altercation that resulted in some hearing loss. He was given a hearing aid, but refused to wear it because it was uncomfortable. He managed by reading lips and asking people to repeat themselves,"
"But Michael, that can be very dangerous," Kitt replied.
"Yes it can be and it was," Michael continued, "One night Cleon fell asleep while dinner was cooking on the stove. The alarm went off, but he didn't hear it. Some guests who were staying at the Inn heard the alarm and called the Fire Department. They arrived in time and there was minimal damage to the stove and kitchen. Thank God no one was hurt. The next day Cleon made an appointment to be tested for a new hearing aid. It turns out that Kontec's Medical Division develops new, state-of-the-art medical supplies, among other things. They just came out with self-adjusting hearing aids that are supposed to be very inexpensive and extremely comfortable. Cleon's doctor arranged for Cleon to be a tester for the new hearing aids!"
"I don't understand, Michael. Doesn't Jake know that Cleon wears a hearing aid now?" Kitt asked.
"I don't know, it is very new," Michael explained. "Cleon told me he has tested several different hearing aids over the past month and will receive his final pair of hearing aids tomorrow."
"Pair?" asked Kitt, "Why two, if only the left ear is having problems?"
"Cleon explained that the technology of the new hearing aids operates in such a way that the two aids work together to amplify sounds for perfectly matched, natural hearing," answered Michael.
"Michael, are all humans reluctant to replace their body parts when they are failing?" Kitt asked. "That doesn't make sense. My newer parts are always better and more efficient, an improvement on my original ones."
"Well, Kitt," Michael hesitated before answering. "Your replacements and enhancements are mechanical, non-living pieces of equipment. For you there is no pain, financial expense or threat of death involved. If any new part doesn't work correctly, it is merely a matter of repairing and replacing."
Kitt agreed with what Michael was saying.
"With people it is different," Michael explained. "Many people are discouraged by the pain involved with recovering from surgery. Others can't afford the expense of medical procedures. And often the fear of complications and death deter people from ever considering it at all."
"Humans are very complicated Michael," Kitt concluded.
"Kitt, there is a basic difference between humans and robots," Michael explained. "Man is alive physically and spiritually. Robots are activated. When man dies, he ceases to live in his physical body but continues to live in his spiritual body. Robots are activated; they can be deactivated and reactivated, but their existence remains solely physical. Man chooses, robots obey."
"Michael, man does not always make efficient choices. His decisions are muddled by fear and emotions," Kitt argued. "Robots make quick efficient decisions."
"Then why do robots need man?" Michael asked Kitt, grinning.
"Let's go get some spare ribs, Michael," Kitt replied.
"Follow me, old buddy," Michael said heading toward the buffet tables.