Chapter 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.