Message-ID: <31252asstr$994259403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <news@google.com> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: cyberczar@hushmail.com (CyberCzar) X-Original-Message-ID: <6ad1520b.0107031544.b00b8b9@posting.google.com> Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: 3 Jul 2001 23:44:07 GMT Subject: {ASSM} RP: the Michael Collins Anthology (ASFR, ScFi, act, rom, adv) [8/26] Date: Wed, 4 Jul 2001 11:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/31252> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: kelly, gill-bates 8. Michael's Call with God When we're born, we're not given an instruction manual by our creator. We're required, if we want to stay alive, to figure a lot of things our for ourselves. Fortunately, through the trial and error of many men beofre us, history has taught some the way to mend our bodies should we suffer injury, or how to deal with an unueasy psychological situation. Michael, on the other hand, was unique. A single entity. There are no more like him which he can draw on past and present experiences. He was alone in having to try to figure some things out for himself. Fortunately for him, though, he was created by man, in man's image. Unlike God, or another supreme deity which some of us may look up to, man is much more easier to get a hold of, and that's exactly what Michael set out to do. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Forty minutes had passed, and he had regained enough courage to telephone the new number. Upon dialing, the phone on the other end didn't finish its first ring when the same man answered the phone. ``Hello?'' the man said anxiously. ``Dr. Carson?'' ``Michael?'' ``Yes.'' ``I've been expecting your call.'' ``I have a lot of questions,'' Michael said. ``I bet you do.'' Dr. Carson and Michael engaged in conversation for the next four hours. During the call, Michael explained to him the events which prompted him to call, his failure on Y2K, his job, his life. Julie. Michael got the impression from Dr. Carson that he was a genuinely nice guy, and soon lost his anxiety at ringing up the man that knew him better than he knew himself. The call was a fruitful one. Michael learned what he was originally designed for, his capabilities (albeit some of which he had already figured out), and his limitations. Dr. Carson asked where Michael was, what he was doing. Michael was purposely vague in his answers, but did tell him he was in Atlanta. He regretted revealing that fact afterwards, not knowing if he could fully trust him or not but soon dismissed his regrets since he was well aware it would be easy to trace the call if Dr. Carson wanted to. Michael then told him about the drug test, which Dr. Carson got a big laugh out of hearing. He told him about Arnie, and what he had him do for him. He Told him about the synthetic semen. Dr. Carson found that amusing, too. It turned out Dr. Carson had about just as many questions for Michael, as did he. Later on in the conversation, Dr. Carson sounded genuinely surprised that Michael had done so well with his life. ``You've exceeded far past my expectations of you,'' he told him. He also told him he had some upgrades for him, that he had hoped to give him if he ever saw him again. Feeling at ease with the man on the other end of the phone, Michael asked him, ``Would you like to come to Atlanta?'' ``I would,'' he said. ``Very much so.'' Michael learned that Dr. Carson was now working for the Oak Ridge National Laboratory outside Knoxville, Tennessee. ``I can be there in about four hours,'' he said. He gave his creator directions to his house, which took Dr. Carson south on I-75 until he reached I-285. Dr. Carson was to head East on I-285 until he reached Georgia 400, where he was to exit northbound. When finished with the directions, Michael hung up the phone, sat in his chair for a moment to reflect, and went upstairs. Julie had gotten home sometime ago and was upstairs laying on their bed taking a nap. He went into the closet to get a blanket to set on top of her when the sound of him opening the closet door woke her. ``Hey,'' she said. He set the folded blanket down on the bed as he sat next to her, placing his hand on her arm. ``How was your day?'' he asked. ``It sucked. The new guy is an asshole` He let her go on, and it seemed that things were becoming quite tormultuous there at BellSouth. ``Who were you talking with on the phone downstairs?'' she questioned after she had finished bitching about work. ``The man who created me,'' he said. ``Wow,'' she exclaimed. ``Cool!'' ``Yeah, he's coming here in a few hours,'' he told her. ``Turns out he's in Tennessee, now.'' ``What?'' Julie exclaimed getting up abruptly. ``Are you out of your mind? What if he takes you away` ``I don't think he will,'' he told her. ``He didn't give me that impression. Besides, he no longer works for the same department he did when he designed me.`` ``I hope you know what you're doing,'' she told me. So did he. Michael got up and went downstairs to fix dinner for her. Sometime later, Julie came down. ``Whacha fixing?'' she asked him. ``I thought you'd enjoy a hamburger on the grill.'' He finished making dinner, and brought it into the den where Julie had retreated to read a book. Michael turned on the television, sat back, and relaxed. ``What do you think you'll say to him,'' she asked during one of the commercials. ``I'm not quite sure. We talked for a while earlier today,`` he told her. ``He seemed proud that I was successful. Kinda surprised in a way.`` Several hours later, while the two were relaxing in the living room, the door-bell rang. He and Julie paused, and looked at each other. ``Would you answer it,'' he asked her. She smiled, got up, and went to the front door. Michael followed behind her, but hid behind a wall as she opened it. ``Hello,'' the man said. ``You must be Julie.'' ``And you are?'' she replied. ``Jonas Carson.'' Michael stepped out from behind the wall, and behind Julie. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+