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Subject: {ASSM} the Michael Collins' Anthology { See Chapter Guide for Codes } [8/21]
Date: Mon,  9 Apr 2001 01:10:05 -0400
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                    the Michael Collins' Anthology

   Warning: This story contains frank discussions of a sexually
   explicit nature, and is intended for mature audiences only.

   Disclaimer: The persons depicted in this story are entirely
   fictional. Any similarities are completely coincidental.
   References to actual places, companies, or organizations are used
   strictly for artistic reference to provide realism. In other
   words, none of this is true.

   Copyright (c) 1999-2001 CyberCzar. You may download this story
   for your own personal use; but please don't share it with anyone.
   If you think someone else might be interested in this story,
   please forward their request to me.

     -------------------------------------------------------------

Disassembly

   He skimmed through some of his earlier memories and found several
   scenes where technicians were actually assembling him.

   His cock was actually part of a mechanism which was inserted into
   his hip cavity, but in order for it to be removed, his legs had
   to be detached from his hip, first.

   Bringing the cases downstairs, he stepped out of his pants and
   underwear, and hopped up on the table.

   He depressed an area at the top of where a human's hamstring
   muscle would normally be and his right leg easily came off.

   He repeated this process for his left leg and set themto the
   side.

   Immediately, he started to fall back and had to position his left
   arm behind him to support himself. Realizing this was an awkward
   position, he pushed himself to lean up against the wall.

   There were several screws holding his pelvis to his hip.
   Fortunately, a Phillips screwdriver was within arm's reach, and
   he carefully removed the eight screws holding his pelvis in place
   setting them to his side.

   Alarms were flashing all around in front of him, warning him of
   system failures throughout. His diagnostic and status screens
   kept popping up obstructing his view. It was a conscious effort
   just to keep them minimized so they wouldn't distract him.

   "I don't think I was designed to be as cognoscente of his self as
   I had become.", he thought to himself.

   He lifted his pelvis from his body. There was a thin, plastic
   tube, which ran up inside of him. It had a one-way connector on
   it. Attached to several areas were about twenty wires. Slowly he
   disconnected each wire, making note of where each one was
   connected.

   Next, he carefully unscrewed the connector on the tube and
   realized this was the tube for his fluid reservoir which must be
   located further up inside him somewhere. Holding his pelvis
   upside down, resting his cock and balls on his stomach so he
   could get a better look inside, he saw there was a square plastic
   container with a screwtop lid behind some mechanics. The
   container had a hand-written label on it which said in script,
   "Seminal Reservoir."

   Michael lifted up the container and noticed another tube with a
   screwcap feeding into the same box where the other tube he had
   noticed before was. Being careful not to pull anything loose, he
   unscrewed the cap and poured some of the contents into his hand.

   "It looked like a glop of cum all right," he thought, and was
   just as sticky.

   He grabbed one of the bottles Tracy had given him earlier today
   and slowly unscrewed the cap and began pouring the contents into
   the plastic container, being careful not to spill anything.

   Slowly he screwed the cap back on and set the container back in
   its place.

   Carefully he reattached the wires. When he finished connecting
   the last one, a green text message flashed.

                  SEMINAL PUMP PRIMING - PLEASE WAIT

   "What was this?" he wondered.

   Before his could finish his thought, however. he heard the pump
   inside his pelvis start up. By the time it finished, there was a
   large glop of cum flowing down his stomach.

                        SEMINAL RESERVOIR: 100%

   ...Flashed in green.

   "Great," he thought to myself, wiping the goop up with his hand.

   Michael carefully set his pelvis back into his hip cavity, and
   screwed it back in place.

   Next, he picked up his legs, which were as limp as a
   marionette's, and reattached them.

   As soon as each leg was attached, it became stiff and then
   controllable again.

   He was beginning to like his body - as awkward as it was to
   maintain sometimes.

   "What I need is a manual!" he thought.

   Having reattached all pieces to his body, he jumped off the table
   and pulled his pants back on.

   "I've got to find this Dr. Carson," he thought.

   Getting dressed again, he set the boxes on an empty shelf in the
   basement, sat down at his computer, and proceeded to logon to the
   Internet.

   He connected to MetaCrawler to do web search for "DARPA Model 1
   Prototype Combat Android" but only turned up three results. A
   book about air combat, something totally unrelated, and the
   home-page for DARPA.

   Next, he tried searching for Dr. Jonas Carson. While yielding 19
   results, none of which appeared relevant.

   "Fuck it," he thought to himself, and called DARPA directly.

   "DARPA switchboard," the woman on the other end answered.

   "Dr. Jonas Carson," he said.

   "Do you know what department he works in?"

   "No."

   She sounded audibly irritated as she told him to hold on while
   she checked her directory.

   She came back on the phone a moment later, gave him Dr. Carson's
   phone number, and proceeded to connect him.

   He was starting to feel nervous, when red text suddenly flashed
   in front of him:

                       POWER LEVELS FLUCTUATING

   Suddenly, the phone stopped ringing, and a deep-voice came on the
   line.

   "This is Dr. J. I'm not available to take your call. At the tone
   record your message, and I'll return your call as quickly as
   possible."

   Michael hung up the phone as the beep started. He couldn't go
   through with this just yet.

   What if he was found out? What if the Government wanted him back?
   What if he was disassembled? These were all thoughts racing
   through his head.

   He needed help, though!

   Nervously, he redialed the digits. It seemed like the ringing of
   the phone on the other end lasted for minutes.

   "Hello?" a voice said, picking up the other end.

   He paused.

   "Hello?" it repeated, sounding more irritated.

   "Dr. Carson?" Michael replied.

   "Yes," he answered.

   "This is Michael Collins."

   Silence.

   "Oh my  God," he replied. "Can't talk here. Call me at this
   number in 30 minutes," he went on to say, giving Michael a new
   telephone number, then slamming the phone down.

   He slowly set the phone back down on its cradle, got up, and
   paced the floor.

   Michael probably walked a mile pacing back and forth in his
   basement, thinking of what he was going to say.

   He did it, though. he had contacted his creator!

     -------------------------------------------------------------

                 Let me know what you think! Email Me!
           This story is available at the following places:
                 * http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/cyberczar/www/ *
                   * mailto:cyberczar@despammed.com *

             Copyright (c) 1999-2001. All Rights Reserved.


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