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NNTP-Posting-Date: 3 Jul 2001 23:39:14 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} RP: the Michael Collins Anthology (ASFR, ScFi, act, rom, adv) [3/26]
Date: Wed,  4 Jul 2001 09:10:04 -0400
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3. Datatronics

     Our story begins to take off with one man, Michael Collins, who
     because of no fault of his own, wakes up one morning only to
     discover that his reality has been turned upside down.

     He, in fact, is an android.

     Up until this point, Michael had assumed that his entire life was
     real. He had a good job, a loving girlfriend, and good friends.
     But who was to tell him how much of it was real?

     Waking up that fateful day, Michael discovered something which was
     absolutely real to him. He was vulnerable.

     Being exposed was no great comfort to him. The fact his friend
     took advantage of him, and violated him; angered him immensely.

     But, Michael struggled to come to grips with who, and what he was,
     and to regain some normality back in his life.

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

Driving to Buckhead was always a pain in the ass. He lived in Alpharetta and
had to take Georgia State Road 400 each day. Predictably, there must have
been a pile-up because as he got to Holcomb Bridge Road, traffic was at a
stand-still.

About 30 minutes later, he made his way through the toll-booth and sped up
so he could get over to take the next exit, which was Lenox Road.

Michael pulled into his office building, waved his parking card so the gate
would raise, and proceeded to park his car.

Next, he walked into the building, swiped his access badge, and entered the
elevator.

As he got off the elevator on the 16th floor, he swiped his access badge
again, entered his office, and made his way to his desk.

Several people were in already, and they shared their normal pleasantries as
they did every morning.

He booted up his computer, checked his eMail, and began to work.

Right about this time Arnie got in and walked over to sit in the cube next
to him. He didn't say anything to Michael, nor did Michael say anything to
him.

He was busy coding away for about an hour, when he saw Arnie's reflection in
the mirror which was taped to his monitor.

Michael pushed his chair back, stood up, and faced him.

``How's it going, dude,'' he said; putting one hand on his shoulder, the
other on his crotch.

While pushing him back, Michael scornfully told him, ``Fine!''

Laughing, he reproached him. ``I see you fixed your problem you had
yesterday.'' he said.

Michael was getting furious. While looking at Arnie, he replayed the
sequence he saw that morning on the videotape.

Next, he stepped towards him, and grabbed his arm with his hand, directing
him to the breakroom at the end of the office.

As the two entered, Michael forced Arnie down into a chair.

``Listen you faggot fuck,'' he whispered to him. ``I know what you did to me
while I was unconscious Friday night.''

Arnie started squirming in his chair a little. ``Do what? I didn't do
anything to you,'' he said, lying.

``Fuck you!'' Michael said a little louder, quickly lowering his voice
afterwards. ``Julie had a video camera propped up in the basement - she
recorded everything,'' he said with emphasis.

``Does she know?'' he asked, covering his face with his hands.

``Not yet,'' he said. ``Now get the fuck up.''

Michael escorted him back to his desk, and they continued about their day.

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly. He was checking the code
revisions he was making to the card processing module into the CVS
repository.

Co-workers stopped by cube; they chatted about their respective holidays and
how they were spent. He casually mentioned to Angie that his was boring
since he was unconscious for pretty much the whole weekend. This brought a
roaring laugh from Arnie's cube.

Michael skipped lunch, and continued to work. He was so captivated with his
work that he didn't know his new found special abilities were starting to
show through.

While listening to a Dave Matthew's Band CD, he began typing faster and
faster. People around him were starting to notice. Faster and faster his
fingers traversed the keyboard, in the open 'vi session he had, working on
the code. A steady stream of clicks without pauses reverberated from his
cube. As he stopped to check on the code a co-worker was working on, he
turned around and a rather large crowd had formed just outside his cube. He
had just finished coding close to 10,000 lines of code in about 25 minutes!

``Hot damn,'' Robert said; breaking the cheers and applause which had
started. ``That's the fastest coding I'd ever seen! You had to have been
typing close to 500 words per minute!''

``Uh, it was nothing,'' he replied, forcing his way through the crowd.

As he walked away to head downstairs, Arnie yelled out from the back of the
crowd, ``Go ahead, Mike! Tell 'em how you do it!'' he said.

``Too much caffeine!'' he yelled back, walking out the door.

When he got back to his cube; Michael had a new voice mail waiting for him.
It was Scott, his boss. ``Stop by my cube as soon as you get this message,''
he said.

``Shit!'' he thought to himself. ``Did Arnie tell him?''

He walked over to Scott's cube and sat down on the other side of his desk.
Since he was a manager, his cube was twice as big as his. This seemed
totally unfair; since he did half the work he, or any other programmer did.

``I heard you almost broke your keyboard a few minutes ago,'' he said; his
back to him facing his screen. ``Care to tell me what's going on?''

Michael paused for a moment and rubbed his hands on his legs.

``Nothing's going on,'' he told him.

``Uh huh,'' he said - still playing his game of Mahjongg.

``Do you have a problem with the way I'm doing my job,'' he asked him
sarcastically.

``Whatever is not going on,'' he said, ``I like it. Keep it up.''

`` haven't been having a problem with that lately,'' he mumbled. ``Will do,
thanks.'' he said, as he left his office.

Michael walked about 10 steps away, when he heard Scott pick up the phone.

As before with his new found gifts, Michael simply thought how nice it would
be if he could hear what Scott was saying, and almost immediately, the rest
of the noises in the office drowned out as he was listening to Scott's
conversation; and the voice on the other end, quite clearly.

``I think we have a problem with Michael Collins,'' he told the voice on the
other end. ``I'd like to schedule a random drug test for him if that's OK.''

``We'll schedule him for a urinalysis test tomorrow,'' the woman on the
other end replied.

Michael became a little apprehensive. How could someone like him, without a
bladder, give a urinalysis? What if they wanted blood?!

Quickly, he walked back to his cube and thought about the predicament he was
in. How was he going to get by this one? This explains why he remembered
drinking Orange Juice, and then pissing Orange Juice a little while later;
or drinking coffee and, well, you know. He got sick of looking at brown and
orange urine that most of the time he relegated himself to drinking nothing
but water.

``Wait a minute!'' he thought to himself. ``Arnie, I need Arnie!''

As he finished formulating his thought, the thought of what he needed Arnie
for didn't appeal to him at all.

Michael got up and walked to the cube next-door. ``I need you,'' He told
Arnie as he entered.

``The famous Michael Collins needs me?'' Arnie questioned sarcastically.

``Shut the fuck up,'' he told him. ``We're leaving now, come back to my
house.''

Arnie and Michael left work early, and he followed him back to his house in
Alpharetta. Tagging not far behind, he pulled in behind Michael into the
driveway.

Entering through the garage, Arnie followed Michael into the kitchen and sat
down at the bar.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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