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NNTP-Posting-Date: 3 Jul 2001 23:45:09 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} RP: the Michael Collins Anthology (ASFR, ScFi, act, rom, adv) [9/26]
Date: Wed,  4 Jul 2001 11:10:05 -0400
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9. Meeting One's Maker

     Put yourself in Michael's shoes. How would you feel? Standing
     before you, not more than 10 feet, is your God. Your maker. The
     man who conceived of you and brought your existence into this
     world.

     Michael was understandably nervous and full of emotions, no matter
     how synthetic those emotions might be.

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

``Michael,'' he said proudly.

``Let him in Jules,'' he said.

Julie opened the door and invited him in. Dr. Carson walked towards his
prodigy, but instinctively Michael took a step back, a wave of anxiety
suddenly befell upon him.

``Ignore him,'' Julie said; escorting Dr. Carson into the living room.

Michael followed, and sat down on the couch across from him.

``You look good, Michael.''

``Thank you,'' he said.

``How do you know Michael, Dr. Carson?'' Julie asked.

``Oh, we go back a long way, I guess.'' he replied.

``Julie, Dr. Carson created me.'' he told her.

Dr. Carson shifted in his seat as Michael said this. ``You told her you were
an android?'' he asked.

``He didn't have to. I found out on my own a few days ago.`` she said.

``Ah! Yes, the Y2K bug,'' he said.

The three stayed up talking about him, DARPA, and just about everything else
until about midnight when Julie, visibly tired, excused herself to go to
bed.

After Julie retired, Michael and Dr. Carson didn't say much to each other
for the next five minutes or so. They were both unsure in what direction the
conversation should continue.

``I've got some things for you,'' he told Michael, breaking the tension.

``Oh?''

``Walk with me out to my truck,'' he asked, and the two stepped outside only
to find flurries laying a fresh coat of snow on the ground.

As Dr. Carson lowered the back of his truck, there were several large boxes
and a trunk inside. Michael helped him carry everything into the house.

``Is there a place where we can set this stuff down?'' he asked.

``The basement,'' Michael replied. ``Follow me.''

While downstairs, Dr. Carson seemed genuinely impressed at Julie's and
Michael's setup.

The two finished getting the rest of the things out of the truck and both
retreated downstairs.

``Can I examine you?'' he asked.

``What type of examination,'' Michael said nervously.

``Just an overall checkup. I'm assuming you haven't had one since you left
my office. Here, sit on the table,`` he said, patting his hand down on my
workbench motioning for him to get up.

He hopped up on the table. Michael felt like he was in a Doctor's office
getting an examination.

``Remove your shirt for me and lay down,'' Dr. Carson asked.

He complied; unbuttoning my shirt and setting it next to him.

He opened one of his boxes and removed a long tool which looked like a
screwdriver, but with a funny tip on the end. He inserted the tool into
Michael's belly button about an inch, and turned it counter-clockwise. A
seam formed, outlining his stomach and abdomen; and he lifted the tool which
took another cover off of his body.

Michael sat up slightly so he could look inside. There was a rather large
white, plastic container.

``That must be my fluid reservoir,'' he said pointing at the container in
his thorax.

``Yes, it is!'' Jonas said dynamically. ``And this is your waste disposal
unit,'' he said; pointing to a cylindrical device resting next to the
container.

Behind the two containers were thick bundles of wires and tubes running all
throughout.

Upon inspecting Michael's torso, Dr. Carson pressed his hands against the
sides of his ribs, exposing Michael's chest. Next, he reached into his box,
pulled out a hex-driver, and leaned over Michael as he flipped his power
switch.

``Sleep tight,'' he heard Dr. Carson say, as everything went black.

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