The Autobiography of Devon Miles

Death and Rebirth

KARR revved its engine menacingly as it further announced that it was the "prototype automobile of the future". We all, involuntarily stepped back, but the vehicle advanced, coming closer than before. I pushed Bonnie behind me as KARR's scanner slowed, as if looking for someone. "Wilton Knight is my father," it announced as it pulled up so that its prow was putting pressure on my leg, "and you are hiding the female human who is my mother, behind you." Its engine growled again. "Release her, or I will terminate you!"

Wilton hobbled to KARR just as quickly as he could. "Power down, now!" The AI hesitated before obeying.

Subsequently stored away securely, it seemed like the entire team did their best to forget about KARR, much to our eventual regret. Bonnie dove into her work on the new AI, I secured a second Trans Am and Wilton continued his search for a driver.

It was actually his ex-wife Elizabeth who lead us to our man. She well knew Wilton's crusading personality and his ability to look past the pain she had put him through. While Las Vegas had seemingly put its Mafia-connected history in the rear-view mirror, it was still a place where money, sex and over-the-top personalities combined in a dangerous mix. Rumor had it that her casino was going to be the site of some industrial espionage and the exchange of large amounts of cash, some of it laundered through casino accounts. There was a vague timeline that she was also aware of, but Elizabeth didn't want to tip her hand by going directly to the police or FBI. It was through our fledgling FLAG organization that the LVPD was called in, and Wilton and I paid close attention to the team assigned to the case. One young officer stood out immediately; Lieutenant Michael Long.

Officer Long was a few months older than Wilton's son and didn't have the sort of connections that could have kept him out of Vietnam, even if he'd wanted to. Unfortunately, the young soldier had the worst luck. Not only was he originally assigned as a typical grunt to an infantry unit instead of Intel where he belonged, he would be spending his days on foot patrol where his likelihood of injury was high. This SNAFU occurred immediately upon putting his foot in country. Not long after arriving, he was hit on the head by a piece of falling concrete from a decrepit Saigon building. Rushed into surgery, a piece of his skull was removed to allow room for his swelling brain. It was eventually replaced by a titanium plate and when he had recovered, Michael Long was discharged from the Army. It was then he headed to Las Vegas to join their police department.

An intelligent and dedicated officer, he advanced through the ranks of the department easily. He had worked with several partners by the time of the casino assignment, and they all had nothing but praise for him. His first partner had retired after he felt that Long had become a solid professional and his second partner had retired on disability after a serious injury in the line of duty. He was now paired with Officer Jason Monsey, another veteran who had grown up back east and was one-sixteenth Native American. His great-grandfather had been a full-blooded member of the Munsee tribe, a small part of the Algonquin Nation from the New York-New Jersey border. There had been a great deal of intermarriage with freed black slaves from the south who had made their way up to the Ramapo Mountains on the southern border of the two states. Hence, Officer Monsey's African American appearance.

This was not to say the Long was all work and no play. We were well aware right at the beginning that he had a "playful" streak. We also knew that he had a fiancé, and that was a concern. Wilton felt that in order to complete some of the dangerous missions that were contemplated, our driver had to be able to ignore his own safety and his desire to return home in one piece to his wife. Still, we had not yet ruled out Long because of this, because in every other way, he was perfect.

I went to Las Vegas first to interview him. I was vague about the position we were looking to fill, of course, and I wasn't at all sure that I liked Michael when I first met him. He seemed flip and brash to me. I couldn't see the well-liked young officer who had received excellent reviews in the tall man I was talking with. He seemed to me to take everything, absolutely everything, lightly and in a joking manner. It actually took me much too long, to my regret, to see and understand the deep waters that lay below that devil-may-care attitude. Michael, you have my sincerest apologies. Fortunately, I quickly came to know how much importance you put into our missions, despite your attempts to make it seem otherwise.

My report to Wilton must have seemed much like the spies' report on the land of Canaan to Moses. It was almost entirely negative. Nevertheless, Wilton prepared to go to Las Vegas for his interview of Michael Long. I know he hoped to develop a much different opinion. I think that he saw something of his inner self in the young man, and perhaps felt a paternal attraction right from the start. I knew that he wanted very badly to be able to offer the position to Long after the conclusion of the casino situation.

When Elizabeth had first asked for our assistance, I had no idea who Tanya Walker was or of her involvement with Comtron, a chip designer and producer similar to Intel. Of course Wilton knew the company quite well. To a certain extent Knight Industries was in competition with them, but it had always been friendly. At least it had been until Tanya Walker made her way up through the organization. Wilton had met her previously a few years before he had become ill and before she had risen beyond the position of Executive Assistant to the President. He recalled that she reminded him a great deal of a young Elizabeth; the same coloring, body-type, sense of fashion, and most importantly, the ability to quietly appear when the most delicate of matters were to be discussed.

Finding Tanya Walker, Comtron and Elizabeth Blackstone Knight all at the same place at the same time set off alarm bells for Wilton, myself, and anyone else at Knight Industries who had any background in the history of the two companies at all. Although she was buried deep in the final development of the second Artificial Intelligence, Bonnie was able to piece together the rumors she had heard from colleagues and contacts around the country about what Comtron was developing. Their "bubble memory" chip would have been a nice advance in computing speed and memory for the commercial market. It certainly would have made millions for whoever possessed the design. Wilton and his team had achieved the same parameters in a somewhat different manner a few months past for their own purposes. They had no desire to produce their chip for commercial means and the money that could have made from it was unimportant to us. Rather, there was concern about such a powerful chip falling into the wrong hands. Naturally, we were astounded that Charles Acton, President of Comtron had its schematic with him on this trip to Las Vegas and was willing to leave it in simple room safe for Tanya's associates to access. Later, we learned that Tanya had managed to insinuate her own Chief of Security onto Elizabeth's payroll as her head of Casino Security, which put him in a position to work directly with the LVPD and keep them one step behind at every turn. In hindsight, it was inevitable that the mission would turn deadly. It was only because we were closely monitoring the Las Vegas Police Department's radio frequencies that Wilton and his doctor were even able to rescue Michael and prevent his death.

It had not been Wilton's initial intent to give the eventual driver a new face and identity, but, as you all now know, there was no alternative. It was fortuitous for the Foundation and for its mission, if not for Michael Arthur Long who came to a sad, if heroic end on that night in the desert. It was literally the making of Michael Knight.

Wilton and I saw the results of the doctor's handiwork before the swelling began and before he bandaged up the new young Mr. Knight. I of course saw the resemblance to Garthe and to Wilton immediately, but didn't say anything at the time. I had to remind myself repeatedly, however, that I was merely Wilton's Chief Operating Officer and not a psychiatrist or analyst and most certainly not his analyst. I did wonder, though, what Michael would think of his face once he realized about the resemblance. It was a topic that would have to be addressed eventually.

While Michael's strength grew daily, especially once the bandages were off and he could leave his bed, Wilton's declined day-by-day. The new AI, now christened the Knight Industries Two-Thousand was almost ready. Michael would have to be told about Wilton's plans soon. It was no surprise to anyone, most especially Wilton, that the young man would steal into the garage of the AI. My friend and I agreed that after the debacle of KARR's debut, it would be best to keep everything "low-keyed" until we knew that everything was going according to plan.

It was Bonnie who coined the name "KITT". She was just as maternal and possessive of KITT then as she is now and was not happy when she was told that for the moment at least, she was to stay away from the AI while it was introduced to its driver. It was Wilton's feeling that Michael and KITT needed to bond and while Bonnie was a key component of the team, she could imperil that bond. I also knew that she had to be prepared for the look and the voice of Michael Knight. Much as we talked about it, it took quite a while before she would let down her guard around him and I know he was as hurt as a puppy dog that has been rejected by the child it was given to. I didn't want him to know the reason for her reluctance at working with him, because I strongly suspected that he would push the issue, trying to convince her that he was nothing like the man he so resembled. That would only have increased her resistance to him. I also had to have a long talk with KITT about the topic and try to explain the strange ways humans protected their emotional selves.

In any event, one day, Michael stole into KITT's garage just as predicted and the four of us, Michael, Wilton, KITT and I finally began the process of introducing AI and driver to each other.

Wilton's death hit everyone at Knight Industries and FLAG particularly hard. He was a visionary, perhaps the most decent man I had ever met and a certifiable genius. I very, very rarely saw him angry, even at Elizabeth and Garthe. His philosophy was to let "bygones be bygones", something almost never seen in other highly successful entrepreneurs. But woe to anyone else who committed the cardinal sins of stupidity or venality. Then his anger could be either volcanic or completely icy. In the few hours between the time we found Garthe holding the unconscious body of Bonnie Barstow and the time he left, Wilton spoke not a word to his son. Neither did he ever utter a word after both Garthe, and KARR were incarcerated. They both simply ceased to exist, at least outwardly, for Wilton Knight. On the other hand, many, many benefited from his largesse, support, and guidance. In the industries that were part of his empire, Wilton sought out the best and gave them the chance they needed to prove themselves, regardless of their background or credentials. Any employee who had a death in the family never had to worry about burial costs. Health care bills were completely covered for not only employees and their immediate family but for parents and grandchildren as well. Education, training, whatever was needed for the job at hand, Wilton provided. When he was still in good health, Wilton would pull me off of whatever task I was engaged in at the end of a long afternoon and we would walk through some of the departments and labs and we would stop and talk with people. Wilton remembered ever name and every project and never left an employee's side without a good and encouraging word.

It was this deeply ingrained sense of decency that fueled Wilton's desire to bring FLAG to fruition. He felt deeply for the underdog and felt that those like him who had benefited from every possible advantage had a debt to society to protect those who were vulnerable. He was all the more committed then, to the idea that those who had the money, power, and technology to operate above the law had to be stopped. His choice of Michael Long to live out his dream couldn't have been more spot-on. Between his desire for revenge at being left for dead in the desert by Tanya Walker and his own crusading spirit, this young man was able to come to embody Wilton's project, just as my friend had known he would.

The day after Wilton's funeral, Michael decided it was time to leave and take his future into his own hands. Of course, it was no longer his future alone and it was the future of a man who had not existed the day before. He could have taken the Knight Industries Two Thousand and never returned. I had strongly expressed my concerns to Wilton about this, but Wilton had learned the measure of the man during the long weeks of convalescence; he never doubted for a moment that the person who would be Michael Knight would betray us or his dream.

And so it has been. Of course, there have been times of high danger, high excitement, and even high comedy along the way. First, of course, was the resurrection of KARR. Michael and KITT had every right to be angry with Bonnie and I (mostly myself, in all honesty), for not informing them sooner of the prototype's presence. I am also to blame for not having him dismantled. And to be perfectly honest, I used to enjoy a "Three-Ring Burger" every now and again, but I can no longer even look at a franchise without getting sick to my stomach. I thought that we were safe after KARR drove off that cliff into the ocean, but the damn machine should be renamed "KATT" for all the lives it seems to possess. Still, Michael and KITT once again reduced it to ruble. Bonnie miraculously found the CPU, still alive and functional in the debris of the shell. Fortunately, without being attached to any peripheral devices, all it could do was produce a shock to anyone who picked it up. Even though its internal storage battery was relatively strong, it could do more than provide a nasty surprise for anyone who touched it. Bonnie retrieved it using rubber gloves and placed it in a liquid nitrogen bath where it sits to this day, utterly and completely frozen.

Then there is Garthe Knight. No one, not even his mother could imagine that he would leave his African prison alive, but of course, he did. If he was twisted before his incarceration, he was truly psychotic now from his isolation and treatment. And once he found out about Michael and his father's relationship with his "twin", he had a nemesis to focus all his hatred on. Like KARR, Garthe seemed to have nine lives. I am just thankful that he or Elizabeth never got their hands on the prototype. I am not sure at all that they could have been defeated if they were working together.

Elizabeth seemed to fold in on herself after Garthe's death. She aged rapidly and in her final year tried to attempt a reconciliation with her daughter but was unsuccessful. I always felt that Jennifer had the ability to be the best of her parents, and she had wisely moved far away from both of them when she went to study in Chicago and ultimately stayed there. There was nothing for her on the west coast, much as she seemed to want to get to know Wilton better when she grew up. She knew that it would only anger her mother and brother, two people she knew to keep at arms-length. Elizabeth suffered a massive heart attack and died a little less than two years after her son, making Jennifer a very, very wealthy young woman. It was unfortunate that when she joined the boards of directors of both Knight Industries and of The Foundation for Law and Government she thought that she knew best how to manage them both, but she did learn that it was wisest to listen to those who had come before her and also to develop consensus instead of using her wealth as a stick and her sexuality as a carrot. I don't think she is an evil or manipulative personality like her brother and mother. She's just somewhat immature.

Poor Michael! How I wish Stevie had never come back into your life! I learned long ago that when something is too good to believe, it often really is. We know how you loved her, and she was a beautiful, kind, charismatic young woman that all of us liked, KITT's jealousy notwithstanding. I am grateful that your pride did not stop you from reaching out to your FLAG family in your time of devastation. All any of us wished to do after her death was to wrap you in a cocoon of love and care, to protect you and to help you recover. And although it's taken years, I am glad to see those little looks between you and Bonnie that you think I'm ignorant of…like hell I am! I couldn't be happier for you both. And as for KITT, what can I possibly say about an individual as unique as you? You've become all that Wilton Knight dreamed of, and more. I'm proud of the small part I played in bringing you to life and even more, I am proud that you think of me as a friend.

Wilton's dream was that one man could make a difference. He certainly did. Michael Knight definitely does. And I hope in my own way, that I have made a difference, too.

The End