The ramp of the rental-semi lowered and Devon and Michael entered to find Bonnie desperately hooking Kitt up to yet another computer. Bonnie's own laptop lay discarded on the floor of the trailer and a telltale whiff of smoke could be smelt inside. Michael's eyes widened. "Bonnie, what's going on?" Bonnie didn't answer but kept working with a frantic look that Michael didn't like at all. Devon moved over to the support monitor and breathed out slowly, "Good Lord." Michael came to stand next to the older man and merely stared at the monitor:
/program terminated
"What program?" A chill went down Michael's spine. "Bonnie, what program was terminated?" Not pausing for a second, Bonnie glanced at Michael. With a start he realized that though her face was a mask of professionalism, she had tears in both of her eyes. "Kitt's core program."
Before anyone had a chance to say anything more, a voice interrupted them "Who are you lot?" The FLAG team turned around and faced a hugh African-American bodyguard who towered protectively over a small, frail silver-haired man in an electrical wheelchair. The old man looked confused but eyed them with bright eyes that clearly showed that a brilliant mind was locked away somewhere underneath the illness. The bodyguard couldn't take his eyes off of Kitt and Bonnie instinctively knew, that the man knew what the black Pontiac truly was. The wheelchair's motor hummed as the man climbed into the trailer. He rolled right to Kitt and ran his hand over the MBS of the rear fender. "Ah Kitt, we meet again. I didn't think I'd ever see you again." The old man's brow wrinkled even more as he clearly waited for the AI to answer. Bonnie stepped in "Dr Marcus?" The old man turned to face her, "Yes and you are? What have you done to Kitt?" "I'm Bonnie Barstow. We talked about an hour ago…" Suddenly ignoring her, Dr. Marcus moved over to the computer station where the curser still displayed the same message:
/program terminated
The silence seemed to stretch on forever before Dr Marcus spoke, "Kitt's mainframe has collapsed… I have to start over." Michael gasped and Bonnie drew a sharp breath of air. Still a small ray of hope wormed its way into her soul, Dr. Marcus didn't seem to be suffering all that much from the affects of the disease, maybe he could help.
The old man turned to his bodyguard. "Get Kitt into the lab, we have work to do." Bonnie stepped away, clearly trusting these men, but Michael put his hand out to prevent the bodyguard from touching Kitt. "Of limits, bud." The bodyguard and Michael locked eyes but the bodyguard backed down when Bonnie crossed over and opened the door for Michael. Pressing some buttons, Michael brought the body of the Knight Thousand online and powered up. A stronger chill passed through him as he suddenly realized that the AI he had known for years just might never talk to him again. As he drove the Pontiac behind Dr Marcus towards the lab at the back of the yard he suddenly had an eerie feeling that he was driving a hearse.
Florescent lights flashed on overhead as Michael drove the Pontiac into a lab. White drapes covered most of everything and judging by the dust that flew off, when Dr Marcus pulled one off, was that the lab hadn't been used in years. Michael let the engine die and lingered a moment inside the cabin. He ran his hands over the steering column and his gaze settled onto the dark voice box. "Come on buddy, this can't be over yet, there's still a lot to do." The voice box remained dark.
After Marcus had pulled the drapes off of almost all the equipment he turned around and suddenly regarded the FLAG group with sudden suspicion. "James, who are these people? Why are they near my project?" James sighed and patiently explained to his boss just who the people were. He wasn't surprised that Marcus knew who Kitt was. Kitt had been such a large part of his life and career before he had gotten sick, that the knowledge had embedded itself into parts of Marcus' brain where the disease couldn't touch. Without a word, Bonnie opened her knapsack and removed from it a clean pair of her mechanic's overalls. Hoping that she was doing the right thing –trusting Kitt's life into the hands of one of his creators, who suffered from extreme Alzheimer's – she walked up to the old scientist and said, "I'm your assistant, sir. Can we start?"
No… no… no… wrong, shouldn't be like this. The old man had been staring at the computer terminal in front of him for well over three hours. He seemed to be going over all of Kitt's code. Bonnie had raised her eyebrows as Dr Marcus had effortlessly pulled out the program details AFTER Kitt's program had shut down. Bonnie had tried to ask tons of questions; from technical ones to simple ones like 'Is it somehow detrimental that Kitt's core is offline for so long?' But Marcus had only ignored her. About two hours ago, she had backed off, deciding not to disturb the man. She had inconspicuously consulted James about the doctor's condition, but the bodyguard was tight-lipped. Sipping a cup of coffee, she turned to look at Kitt. Or should she say the Knight 2000. Tears threatened to overflow once more but she swallowed quickly. There was still hope.
Dr Marcus paused in his typing and looked at the clock. When had he started? He didn't know. It was wrong. The code didn't look like it had when he had wrote it years ago. Someone had tempered with it. Tempered so much, that it might be impossible to undo without writing the whole core code again, restarting the program and erasing all the acquired information. He turned to his pretty young assistant (when had he hired her, he couldn't remember). "Miss… have you messed with the program while I've been away?"
Bonnie wasn't sure how to respond. Sure she had worked with the program many times through the years, but something told her that wasn't what Dr. Marcus meant. "No, sir. I haven't altered the original programming…" Suddenly she stopped short. SHE hadn't ever, but years back someone had. Marcus Berio. But she had repaired all damage, hadn't she. At least all damage that she had found. If something had been left behind… Bonnie paled. "Berio." She whispered.
"BERIO!" Dr. Marcus almost fell out of his chair as he whirled at the name. He remembered Marcus Berio quite clearly. He had always hated the little know-it-all smart-ass, but he had been a brilliant mind. "What has that little busy-body been doing to my pet project?" With a shaking hand he accepted a cup of steaming tee handed to him by his bodyguard and listened as Bonnie told the story.