Part V

Christmas Day was everything Kitt thought it would be. Being the kid he was Michael went around to everyone's room at six o'clock getting them up. Kitt wasn't bothered by it, but he heard that Devon put up a suitable protest. Bonnie, however, was quite amusing that early in the morning. Kitt had never seen her all decked out in haphazardly pulled back hair, pajamas, a fuzzy-blue bathrobe, and slippers.

"Merry Christmas, pal!" Michael called to Kitt as he made his way down the stairs.

"And the same to you, Michael," Kitt said with a smile. He met them in the parlor where the tree was set up.

Before Michael had the chance to kneel down and distribute the presents from under the tree, everyone was surprised to see Devon walk in, obviously half awake, but found the energy to comb his hair neatly.

"Michael, is six a.m. really necessary?" He asked as he sat down in a Queen Anne styled chair.

"C'mon, Devon, where's your holiday spirit? Christmas is no fun if you don't start it up early in the morning," Michael stated. He picked up the closest box to him and read the tag. "Okay, Bonnie this is yours….Kitt….Devon."

Devon looked at the box and then at Michael, wondering what on Earth could be in such a large and abnormally shaped box. "Michael, this better not be a clown or something that's going to jump out at me."

Michael laughed. "Trust me I learned my lesson that year."

Kitt watched as Bonnie pealed off the paper and opened the shirt box. "Michael, it's beautiful," she said as she picked up the sweater.

"Oh yeah, that's from me and Kitt," he pointed out.

"Thank you, Kitt, I love it," she commented as she looked over the red and white colors.

"You're quite welcome, Bonnie," Kitt said, "but after all you've ever done for me, I couldn't resist this."

Kitt had gone down on the floor next to Michael and picked up a small box and handed it to her. Bonnie looked at him and smirked as she pulled the wrappings off and opened it. "Oh Kitt…These are the ones I pointed out to you in the mall that day."

"The very same," Kitt replied proudly. "I knew you liked them."

"I love them," she told him honestly as she picked up the earrings and put them on. "Thank you."

"Go on, Devon, your turn," Michael said with a smile.

Devon gave Michael and Kitt a suspicious eye as he neatly tore open the wrapping paper and opened the box. His curious frown turned into a relieved smile as he pulled out a tie and a navy-colored sweater. "Not bad, Michael, I am impressed. It was a nice choice."

"Thank-you," Michael said in a familiar "of-course-it-was" tone. "Kitt?"

Kitt nodded and opened his package. He couldn't help but laugh to himself when he pulled out a sweater of his own. "I see that this is the sweater year," Devon said in an amused voice.

"Do you like it?" Michael asked Kitt, although he didn't sound fearful that his friend would be ungrateful for his choice.

"Of course I do, Michael," Kitt smirked. "I'm quite fond of black, you know that."

"Naturally," Bonnie said as she got up and shooed Michael to the sofa. "Now it's my turn."

They finished opening their gifts, each excited and satisfied with the items they received. After they sat around and talked about random things, memories and favorite Christmas stories. During the afternoon, however, Michael had snuck up on Bonnie as she was sampling the fresh Christmas cookies that had been brought out from the kitchen. He pulled out a small box from his pocket and handed it to her. When she heard his question of going to dinner with him, she curiously opened the box. Kitt felt a smile automatically pull at both sides of his mouth when he peeked around the corner to see Bonnie giving Michael a big hug. Michael, in turn after seeing his friend, gave him a thumbs up to signal that Bonnie had indeed said yes.

óóó

The unfortunate detail about Christmas ending, more than the fact that it would be another year before the festive holiday arrived again, was that December 27th marked the appointment Kitt was to see the man who gave him a human life. Kitt was thankful for what Dr. Larson had done for him, but he had hoped he would never see the man again unless it was bumping into him at a grocery store. Bonnie and Michael accompanied Kitt to Dr. Larson's temporary office at Red Wood Memorial Hospital, both going for their own information, but also as support for Kitt.

They each sat in a chair in front of the desk in a very small room, barely big enough to move around in. Soon Dr. Larson came in and greeted each of them with a warm smile and a shake of the hand.

"When I found out that you needed to see me, I instantly became nervous," he said to them as he sat down and opened up Kitt's medical folder on his desk. "But now that I see Kitt looks healthy I can rest easier."

"Maybe not," Bonnie said. "Dr. Larson, Kitt's been having flashes of Scott Bordeaux's memory. You claimed that anything relating to Scott's past would be gone."

Dr. Larson's relaxed face tightened only slightly. "Yes, that's right. He shouldn't be experiencing anything—or if so then only for the first few weeks as the brain dealt with the conversion to a computer memory chip."

"Then unfortunately, Dr. Larson," Kitt spoke up, "something is wrong. In fact, as time rolls further on I've been dreaming of more events that I had never gone to or people that I never met."

"That is a problem," the doctor said softly, bringing his hands up to fold on the desktop.

"The other night Kitt had a flashback that even woke me up—and I'm a sound sleeper," Michael pointed out. "It's more than just dreams of nothingness; it's starting to get to him."

Kitt nodded, and that only made Dr. Larson seem tenser. "I don't understand what could be doing this—especially with a computer like Kitt." Kitt's insides flinched a little at his words. "Kitt's memory system should be more than compatible with the procedure; he's practically human without a body."

"That's why we came to see you," Bonnie said.

"Is your own personal memory having problems?"

"No," Kitt answered trying to recall if there was a time where he couldn't remember anything that he should have. "It's almost as if something inside my head is fighting with my microchips, trying to defend it against me."

"That's exactly what it sounds like, but it still shouldn't be happening. All of our test cases were fine. There's no reason why you, of all computers, should be having problems."

"So what can you do?" Kitt asked, fearful of his answer.

Dr. Larson seemed to be reading over a few of the papers in the medical folder while the three people in front of him waited for his answer. "There's only one thing that I can do. I'd have to go back in there and find out what's wrong. It could be that the chip moved at the last minute and we didn't catch it, or maybe there's a slight flaw on the board that could be easily fixed."

"Surgery," Kitt said under his breath. "There's no other way, is there?"
"I'm sorry to say there's not. Without going in I can't tell what's happening."

Michael clenched his teeth and looked away, obviously aggravated. Bonnie tried to optimistic.

Dr. Larson took a pen from a nearby mug and started to write down something on the top form. "We can schedule a time next week, if you'd like. I'm here until the end of next month, and I think we can have the problem solved by then."

"By then? How is this going to work?" Kitt asked now a little troubled.

Dr. Larson finished writing and looked at Kitt directly in the eyes. "We'll go in and see what's wrong, have the problem fixed, go back in, and hopefully the problem will be solved."

"This is going to take more than one shot?" Michael said, his head turning sharply.

"I'm afraid so," Dr. Larson replied. "If there is a problem with the chip, we can't have it fixed right away. Kitt no longer has a back-up memory chip, so putting a new one in will erase all recent happenings and what-not since this started."

"You can't keep opening his head up like a bottle of Coke," Michael said a little harsher than he had intended. "He's already been to this place twice—the second time for a bullet wound. Now you're going to play around like he's some experiment?"

"Mr. Knight, this is technical work," Dr. Larson said now sitting up very straight. "Like all science, it can take a while to perfect."

"And what happens to this body in the mean time? All current functions and the sort?" Kitt asked, now more than concerned. "I don't want to risk anything where I won't exist in the end."

"The body should be fine," Larson started, "regular people have gone under multiple surgeries for tumors, or shattered bones or whatever the case may be. And I'm sure our scientists can provide you with a temporary home if it comes down to the fact that we'll have to spend some time working on your chip."

Kitt nodded. Dr Larson waited for any more questions to come his way, but none came. "Alright then; I'll let you talk to the receptionist to make a time that's good for you. I'll see you then."

Shaking of hands was forgotten as he left the room, leaving Bonnie, Kitt, and Michael sitting without a movement to any of their muscles for a short time. Michael finally got up and started out, obviously ticked off with what the good doctor had to say.

The ride home was full of silence. Kitt had no care as to what Michael and Bonnie were thinking at that point. He had no desire to go back into surgery for not just once, but possibly two times. All he had ever wanted was a normal life as a human, like his friends had. His greatest fear though, was that he would never see the one year mark of his human experience. He wondered if he should start talking to Bonnie and the foundation's crew about changing the Trans Am's voice panel to a different color for a change.