Chapter 2: Android Omnibus

Michael Collins Revelations

Imagine if you would that up until this point everything you knew about reality was tossed out the window.

Grass, the sky, the warmth of the sun's rays hitting your face.

You've thought, until this point, that your life was in order. Everything was the way it was supposed to be. 2+2=4, grass is green, the sky is predominantly blue. Red means stop, and green means go. If you're living in Atlanta, or Los Angeles, then yellow probably means go very fast.

Think back to your childhood. It was a good one. You probably remember at least one loving and caring parent. You remember going to school, learning how to ride a bike, dating, and possibly your first sexual experience.

Life was good. But was it? What are memories? Nothing more than a complex chemical and electrical reaction in our brains. That being said, how can we know for certain that what we experienced in our past was, in fact, real?

When he awoke, he was in the basement of their house, laying naked on his workbench. He saw Julie asleep at her keyboard, sitting at the adjoining table.

"What happened?" he said.

"Oh!" she said, jumping up. "You startled me."

He tried to get up, but found he was paralyzed. He couldn't move any muscles below his neck.

"Julie," he said more sternly, "what's going on?"

She gave him a look of discontent, and abruptly stood up and walked over.

"What's going on?" she asked rhetorically. "Why don't you tell me what the fuck is going on." she ordered as she reached down and slapped him across the face.

"Uh," he muttered. "Uh, I, I don't know. What time is it?"

"5:20PM," she said. "On January third!"

He sighed. He tried to remember what happened, what was going on.

"I honestly don't know," he said. "The last thing I remember we were making love on New Year's Eve."

"Go on," she said; her back to him as she sat back down at her computer.

"Well, it turned midnight," he continued. "You were coming, I was coming, and then I blacked out."

She tapped away at her keyboard some more, literally pounding on the keys. She then paused for a moment, pushed herself away from table, and rolled herself over.

"Then let me fill in the blanks," she said sarcastically. "You're right," she continued. "We were both coming."

She went on to tell him that as they were both saying, "Happy New Year!" to each-other, he didn't stop: didn't stop speaking, or coming for that matter. "Your voice became very distorted," she told him.

"What do you mean I didn't stop coming," he questioned.

"That was the most fucked up part," she went on. "You didn't stop coming for like 10 minutes!"

She reached over and picked up his head to look down at his body laying on the table. Unbeknownst to him, his cock was still rock hard at this point, in fact he thought it was a little bigger!

"The sheets are ruined," she said. "And I think I sponged up close to a cup's worth of cum from you!"

He closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was cry, but couldn't bring himself to form any tears.

"I thought you had died," she told him. "After I composed myself, I was just about to call the cops, 911, or somebody when I heard a strange beeping coming from your chest."

He thought it strange that she heard beeping, but didn't interrupt her.

"When I put my ear to your chest, I heard whirring and beeping. I knew you weren't dead," she consoled; "but I also knew you weren't alive, either."

She went on to tell him how she dragged him down the flights of stairs to the basement, and set him up here.

She told him how she got the video camera, and set it up to record. She had the TV from the guest-bedroom sitting on the table next to her. He watched it as she played the tape.

He wouldn't have believed what he saw the next thirty minutes if it weren't on tape!

On the tape, he saw her brushing away tears as she examined him there. Laying on the table, she glided her hands slowly across his chest, feeling all around his lifeless body. She next moved her hands to the side of his chest. "Interesting," she said on the tape. "I hadn't noticed this before!"

"Between your second and third ribs," she told him while they continued to watch the tape.

"What?" he asked. She didn't say anything, as she motioned for him to watch.

The next thing he saw truly amazed him! His chest split open and flanged out!

"Fuck me!" she said on the tape.

He could see her on the tape walking over to the camera and picking it up. She carried the camera over to record what she was seeing. What he next saw almost blew his mind away.

As she focused the camera into his chest, in the upper right-hand side of this ... cavity ... there were rows and rows of tiny lights and switches.

Spread elsewhere were jacks. Cables and tubes ran through and into the rest of his body.

"Amazing," he said aloud while watching the tape.

Julie paused the videotape and walked over to him.

"You mean you didn't know?" she said as she brushed his cheek with her hand.

"No," he said, looking up. "Hey Jules, why can't I move anything?"

"Oops!" she exclaimed. "Let me take care of that for you."

She walked back to her keyboard, and typed away at the keyboard. Walking back over, she secured a cable in her mouth as she pressed on both sides of his ribs. A "click" followed by a "whoosh" sound was heard as his chest opened up like a box-top.

"Fuckin'A," he mumbled, looking down at his chest open up before his eyes.

Just then, the doorbell rang upstairs.

"Fuck," he mumbled aloud.

"Don't worry, babe," Julie said, patting him on the head. "It's just Arnie."

"Fuck!" he exclaimed. "Arnie doesn't know, does he?"

Arnie Phillips. Major geek. Major prick. Major pain in Michael's ass.

Arnie's his coworker at Dataronics. Michael hated his personality, but respected his coding abilities immensely.

"Arnie fixed you," she said.

Before Julie could make it to the stairs to walk back up, the door to the basement flung opened and heavy footsteps descended.

"Julie?" Arnie yelled as he walked downward.

"Down here," they both said, in unison.

Arnie turned the corner where Michael was laying and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Dudes!" he exclaimed. "The robo cock is alive!" he said.

"Fuck you," Michael yelled.

Arnie giggled as he walked over to him. "More like you've been programmed to fuck Julie it looks to me," he said.

Julie threw the cable she'd been holding down, turned around and slapped Arnie right across the face. "That was uncalled for," she said.

"Ouch!" he said as he took a step back protecting himself. Michael just glared.

"So, when did he reboot," he asked. Julie turned back towards Michael and screwed the connections from the cable into his chest.

"About 30 minutes ago," she replied.

"Cool," he said.

She sat herself down, and rolled back over to her keyboard, and entered a few more commands.

"Try to move your arms," she asked him.

Like she requested, Michael tried moving his hands and arms which moved just as easily as before.

"Good," she said; as she continued to type. "Now try lifting your legs," she asked.

Just as before, he tried moving his legs and feet. Things appeared to be back to normal. Well, almost.

Michael swung his legs over the table where he could finally sit up.

"Jules, would you get his boxers for me," he asked.

She smiled back at him. "Sure thing, be right back."

When she had walked upstairs, he took the opportunity to sucker-punch Arnie. With moderate force, Michael's fist met up with Arnie's cheek.

"Ouch!" Arnie said falling back. "What did you do that for?" he said, brushing a tear from his eye.

"That's for the robo cock comment earlier," he said.

"But jeeze, man," he said. "That fucking hurt! I can't help it if your cock is programmable!"

"What do you mean?" he replied.

"Dude! You are fucking amazing," he explained.

Arnie went on to explain how Michael must have been developed for the CIA or some bullshit reason. He explained how Michael had a very, very, tiny nuclear reactor which provided his body with electricity. "Very efficient," Arnie's remarks were about it.

He went on to explain how Michael was created with a compartmentalized systemic operating system, essentially running an operating system called "OS/9".

He explained how each of his systems and subsystems were controlled by their own autonomous CPUs all controlled by a series of 8 Motorola 68080 CPUs. One or more Motorola 68020 CPUs controlled each of his subsystems.

Arnie found the system console jack inside Michael's chest and helped Julie wire up a communications cable from her linux box so she could use minicom to communicate with his main processors and operating system.

"So what happened to me the other night," Michael asked, to noone in particular as Julie re-entered the room.

Arnie couldn't help but bust out laughing as he started to explain. "You weren't," he said; his laughter getting stronger. "You weren't Y2K compliant!" he finished, resting his hand on Michael's shoulder. "Your memory management subroutines rolled back to epoch (January 1, 1970, 00:00:00) but since you weren't created then, there were no files to access – your kernel panicked."

"Oh and by the way, dude," he went on, muting his previous laughter in the process. "I'd stay away from any past-life regression therapy if I were you! You'd probably flip out."

Michael knew all about kernel panics, and Unix in general – he was a Unix developer now. This whole scenario probably explained why he's attracted to the operating system so much.

Julie tossed Michael his sweat pants and he quickly put them on.

"Anything we can do about this," he motioned to the prevalent hard-on sticking out through his pants. Michael tried pushing his still erect cock down into his pants leg, but it seemed to make the problem only more visible.

"Uh," Julie began to say; her giggles impairing her speech. "That system is, pardon the pun – hung," she continued – breaking out into hard laughter. "I need to remove it and reset it," she continued, composing herself in the process. "But we can deal with that, later."

She removed the communications cable which she had inserted into his chest earlier and closed it up.

"Let's all go upstairs," Julie suggested. "It's too cold down here."

Jules and Arnie motioned for Michael to go ahead of them up the stairs. He found this quite odd; usually he let Julie lead. Was she afraid of him, or were they afraid he might fall down so they could catch him?

He quickly headed for the bar in the living room to fix himself a shot of tequila. As he placed the shotglass on the counter and began pouring; Arnie was standing next to Julie and cleared his throat.

"What?" Michael asked.

Arnie looked down at the shotglass and then up at him. "You don't need that," he said.

"Yeah, I guess it's kinda moot at this point, huh?" Michael replied.

He walked upstairs to their bedroom to get a shirt on. Android, or no android; Julie had set the thermostat way low and he was cold. He found his robe and put it on. At the very least, it covered the embarrassing predicament he was currently carrying.

As he walked down the stairs, he could see Arnie was quietly talking to Julie about something. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying; but whatever it was, it was obvious they didn't want him to hear.

Walking into the family room, he sat down in his chair and picked up a magazine to skim through. Arnie and Julie soon followed, together.

Uneasy about Arnie's presence, and his knowledge of who, and what he was, he tried to come up with an excuse to get him to leave. "Arnie," he said, setting the magazine down and sitting up in the chair. "I appreciate everything you've done for me the past several days but I think Julie and I can handle it from here."

He got up, and approached him. "Thanks again, for all your help," he said, not giving him a chance to interject anything. "I'll see you at the office tomorrow," escorting him to the door. "Oh, and Arnie? Not a word of this to anybody. If I find out you've told anyone about this house's little secret; I'll be forced to let everyone know how you've been embezzling money from the company."

Arnie stood there for a second, his mouth partly opened and paused. Gently, Michael reached up to close his mouth and perhaps Arnie thought Michael was going to hit him again or something, since he stepped away, turned around, and walked to his car.

When Michael saw him get into his car, he closed the front-door, and locked it. As he turned around, he saw Julie standing in the hall; her arms folded across her chest.

"That was rude," she said.

"I don't want to hear it, Jules. Not now."

"He's only trying to help!" she continued. "What if you break, again?"

"I don't trust him, Jules."

She stopped him as he walked past her, and threw him around to face her. "Do you trust me," she asked?

Pausing for a moment – and now, thinking back, it was probably a millisecond too long, he replied with, "Of course."

"Hrumph," was all she said as she let him go.

He sat down in his chair and turned on the TV. Family Matters was on TBS. It was the episode where Urkel was putting the finishing touches on his Urkel-Bot. He hated Family Matters, including Urkel.

Julie was in the kitchen fixing herself a drink.

"Talk about a fake!" he exclaimed out loud, looking at the 'Urkel-Bot', which looked like a cross between the tin-man and Michael Jackson.

Julie smiled and walked over to him and sat in his lap, setting her Coke down on the end table.

"You're the real thing," she said; reaching up to kiss him. She began stroking his cock with her hand. "Does Mr. Happy want to play?" she asked.

"Not right now," he replied.

"Mmm," she moaned. "Your mouth says 'No' but Mr. Happy says 'Yes'," she said.

"No it's not," he said; slapping his hand against the side of the chair. "Remember?"

She moved her hand away from his cock and caressed his face. "I'm sorry, baby," she said. "I forgot."

"I don't know what I'm gonna do about it," he said, sighing. "I can't go into work with a raging hard-on." He began to feel like an animated commercial for Viagara, or something.

"Who said anything about going into work tomorrow?" she questioned.

At this point he was becoming a little annoyed with her. "Who's going to pay the mortgage?" he returned.

She stopped caressing his cheek for a moment, and looked him in his eyes. "Good point."

She stayed there in his lap for the next several hours while they watched TV. He knew she was horny; and he didn't say anything, but she couldn't keep her hands out out from under his robe as she was stroking his cock back and forth. By the end of it all, he had to admit; he was getting a little turned on himself.

"What did you do," she asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"I think you're getting turned on," she continued. She pulled her hand out of his robe; which has been in there for the past hour or so. Her fingers were dripping with his synthetic juices.

"Yeah, I think you're right," he said; a sly grin plastered across his face.

Something Arnie said earlier though was sticking in his mind. Did he truly love Julie (and for that matter, love fucking her) or was he simply programmed to fuck her?

She jumped up off his chair, and grabbed his hand to follow her. Throwing off her blouse as she made it to the hall, he wasn't far behind her. She raced up the stairs to their bedroom. He found her shorts on the floor at the middle of the flight. As they entered their bedroom; she was spread out naked on their bed.

He hopped up on top of her, with his pants still on. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him down so she could kiss him.

"Android or not," she told him. "I still love you," she said.

"As do I, you," he replied; kissing the tip of her nose.

"Granted," she said, interrupting. "I love your cock better," she said, laughing; picking her feet up to grab the belt of his robe with her toes.

"Well," he quickly replied, "I'll try not to let it let you down."

"I don't think you could at it's current state," she finished giggling.