Knight Rider 2020, Part Five: Intercepted

Kitt drove out of the engineering garage and headed down the drive for the test track. He looked around and, upon seeing no one else, cut across the lush green grass onto the asphalt. As the newly ebony Knight 5000 pulled up to the starting line, Erin gave him a sweet smile. She knew he was nervous. The green light shone and he shot off at full-throttle acceleration. This car was much more responsive than Kitt remembered it, and it seemed to have gained some agility. He took a square turn as hard as he could, let the wheels slip and pull themselves back in, let all his restrictions go, let his need for speed bring on some real driving.1

“Lateral load transfer is 2.8 G,” he informed over the radio.2

“Okay, power through the next turn and let me know when you lose grip,” Erin replied.3

Kitt gunned it and the turbines maxed out, leaving the turbocharger to carry on. In the turn, the advanced traction control brought the car lower and lower to the ground until it was a mere inch and a half from the asphalt. Another few seconds and the car began to slide. “Traction lost at 280 miles per hour, 6.9 G.”4

“This is incredible!”5

Kitt was able to drift around the rest of the turn, then rocket down the straightaway. “Turbines redlined at 9000 RPM, 305 miles per hour, 200 degrees. Fahrenheit of course.”6

“Take the next turn easy and give me the rundown on the tungsten alloy brakes.”7

Three loud backfires and a thunderous explosion rang out through the track as he downshifted from tenth. “Mercury cooling system failing at 304 degrees. Temperature gauge rising at a rate of five degrees per second. Seven degrees…nine degrees…”8

“Alright, stop and pop the hood to let it cool off.”9

Kitt pulled over and opened the hood. The rear turbine was smoking due to a detonated secondary converter, fortunately not a devastating problem. It was nothing but room for improvement. He switched the coolant to liquid nitrogen, which ran through the system and brought the temperature back down to its normal 160 degrees. Kitt cut power to the injured turbine and drove back to the infield, the hood slightly open.10

“You know, Winston had some bad timing when he asked for the formula,” Kitt said as the technicians tended to him. “Right when it became obsolete.”11

“We couldn’t have been luckier,” Erin said as she kneeled beside the car. “Any damage we don’t know about?”12

“The sway bars were stressed and I know I felt something shift. They may need to be realigned.”13

She studied the front end, whose left side was slightly higher than the right. “Kitt, we need to teach you to brake before turns, not in them. I’m sure that’s a bad habit Michael taught you in your early years.”14

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad habit. It cuts corners and saves precious time.”15

“You can’t rush time, Kitt. It’s not something that can be altered. Time spares no one, no matter how much you need it to slow down or speed up.”16

Kitt wanted to argue his point, but he knew these things were better left with the last word being the human’s. Michael Knight, one of the technicians since about 2009, set a hand on the roof and led the car back to the garage, a concerned look on his face as he did so.17

“The car is fine, Michael. It’s just a fuse. Such a petty injury, it isn’t even worth the title. More of a…minor inconvenience18

“It’s not the 4000 I’m worried about.”19

“What do you mean?”20

“Karr’s your brother. I can’t imagine how much it must have hurt to be attacked by your own family.”21

“It wasn’t him, Michael. It was something else, something that he couldn’t control, something that was controlling him. He didn’t mean to. Besides, being on Winston’s turf, I was planning on being out of commission for a day or so.”22

Michael thought about it. Maybe Kitt was right. Maybe Winston was taking control of Karr, using him for game. As he led the black 4000 into the garage, he looked over a line of about sixty people, all dressed in black, and gave his partner a pat on the fender and a warm smile. He took a long look at Kitt.23

“I’ll be okay, Michael,” Kitt reassured him in a warm, sincere voice. “Promise.”24

Michael wanted to agree, but all he could do was nod and walk back to the mansion, hoping for the best. 25

Shawn and Maddock were both sprinting down the hall, soon followed by Erin, an engineer, and a technician. They tore through the lobby and shoved open the doors, unbelieving of what they saw outside. A familiar gunmetal gray Lamborghini was ramming the steel overhead door, determined to get inside.26

“Open the door!” it commanded in a rather rough voice. It turned out to be Karr, coming for his brother. He had received a panic signal from Kitt’s side of the link and come as quickly as possible. There was no denying that he was hurt; his MBS was failing on him. With the last of its strength, he backed up against the next building and floored the pedal, sending the car flying into the door at 220 mph. The front end of the car was dented, but the door had suffered worse damage. Its top hinges broke and the door fell inward, though everyone was cleared out of the way. In fact, the warehouse seemed deserted. He scanned the area and realized that, though blended into the shadows, Kitt was present and sentient. “Kitt!”27

Kitt was trembling and unable to speak. Both he and the car were in shock. Karr approached cautiously and looked the car over. Some heavy damage and severe pain had definitely been inflicted, and the aftermath of it was heartbreaking to watch. The nervous scanner revealed the worst of it. This wasn’t Kitt. There was no warm smile or gentle greeting to the chaser. Instead, there was only fear, panic, and torment. Karr couldn’t stand to see it.28

Memories echoed through his thoughts. He had been this way after his driver was murdered. He wouldn’t do anything but snap at those who came close. FLAG had seen a simple solution to all that – just shut him down. What did he care? He was only a computer!29

“Kitt, where are they?” he asked, barely able to keep his voice calm.30

I don’t know, Kitt said through their link. They could be anywhere…31

Unexpectedly, an electronic signal cut off Karr’s outside power source and blocked his scans. “Alright, this isn’t even funny anymore,” he growled, reversing in a circle to look around the room for anyone. “Show yourselves you cowards!”32

A group of about thirty people came out of the shadows from all directions and he panicked. His weapons were disabled, but his instinct to survive kicked in, along with the cunning, sharp mindset he had always displayed in training at FLAG. Clamping the jet-black front brake calipers down on the vented carbon ceramic discs in a force-halt, he spun the rear tires, hoping to create enough smoke to choke his attackers down or blind them so he could escape. He heard coughing and frantic shouting from the rookies to their partners, the occasional ‘Get down!’ or the dreaded ‘Man down!’33

The right brake gave in and the car spun a circle, dragging the left tire only about six inches before it too relaxed. Realizing the fatal flaw in circuitry, he nearly cracked the rear calipers by forcing them to immediately lock the tires down, but fortunately the tungsten alloy discs could stand the heat and pressure, but only barely. A small piece of the disc’s surface chipped off as the car violently jolted to a halt. He calculated where the exit would be and sped for it, home free, until he realized the block had scrambled his calculations, causing the Superleggera to slam into the door, pushing the MBS past its pressure limit and crushing the front end of the car. That was when Karr realized his situation.34

It was all a trap.35

Just as he was about to run, the SWAT team ran in. Kitt’s dull prow was able to push through the crowd and get to a clearing, but Karr wasn’t so lucky. He fought a few of them off, threatening with the jagged metal of the wrecked front end, but they overpowered him with an energy drain. He struggled against them for a moment before it began to set in. The fatigue meter on the dashboard rose and he scrutinized his own vital signs to make sure they weren’t shutting him down. His fatigue hit the high orange zone and they unlocked the circular steel plate from his fender. Kitt approached him.36

“And to think,” he softly began, his voice carrying an innuendo of lost hope. “This never would have happened if you had just made a better choice.”37

Karr wanted to tell him that that was exactly why he was here. He was about to when one of the SWAT officers gently led him off. As he passed his brother, he unfolded their link.38

//I thought we were brothers, Kitt…39

Kitt lowered ever so slightly. //I don’t know that any more, Karr. It’s been forty years. I can’t afford mistakes.40

//Kitt, the more things change…the more they stay the same. Maybe the world has changed, but a brother is a brother no matter what.41

Kitt couldn’t watch as Karr was led to the secure warehouse. He turned and drove the opposite direction, wondering what the part of the plan the Foundation hadn’t told him was. There always seemed to be something he didn’t know.42

That night, Karr was relieved to find out that the humans would let him sleep. He had spent the entire evening reflecting on his situation and trying to plan out his survival. The fuel cell had run dry at about five and the tires were thin from his earlier exhibit, but his ‘caretaker’ didn’t seem to notice, or care. Was this just substandard care or exactly what the Foundation wanted?43

Karr was able to pass half the night in a fitful slumber. At about one in the morning he awoke to hear a strange scratching sound emitting from the door of the forlornly empty warehouse. Rats, he told himself. Bugs. Or is it but a trick of the mind?44

He shuddered and settled back down. A draft blew through the open top window of the warehouse, catching him by surprise and chilling him through the open air intakes. There was a possibility of snow that night, and Karr hoped for it with all his heart. If it snowed, Winston wouldn’t be able to carry out his plans to steal his last target – a Maserati MC19 at the import dealership downtown – and get out of town.45

Why was he still worrying about this? He was out of there now. The Lamborghini settled down a little further and went back to sleep.46