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From: cyberczar@hushmail.com (CyberCzar)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 3 Jul 2001 23:43:20 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} RP: the Michael Collins Anthology (ASFR, ScFi, act, rom, adv) [7/26]
Date: Wed,  4 Jul 2001 11:10:02 -0400
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7. Disassembly

     We find Michael in another predicament.

     Human males enjoy the luxury that their bodies are designed for
     reproduction. Day and night, the human male's body is constantly
     creating sperm, and prostatic fluid to help propel the sperm to an
     awaiting egg.

     It's the most basic of human instincts, the will to reproduce.

     Androids, on the other hand, don't have such luxuries. Mechanical
     in nature, their bodies are designed not for reproduction, but for
     other tasks.

     Not having a prostate, or gonads to continuously generate
     reproductive fluids, what fluids Michael does have will eventually
     run out.

     The human male usually expels twenty-five to fifty mililiters of
     fluid with each orgasm. Michael was designed to hold one liter of
     fluid without requiring replenishing.

     Of course, since Michael was originally designed for combat and
     covert situations, it was perceived that in the event Michael did
     run out of fluid, it would be replaced back in a laboratory, as he
     underwent other maintenance.

     After settling into a routine, Michael and Julie had sex about
     twice a month. Unfortunately, Michael's little fiasco New Years
     Eve drained the remaining juices from his body and he was now
     required to replenish them himself, or risk enjoying a further
     sex-life with his partner again.

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

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 them to 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, 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 himself, 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!

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