-Written from KITT's perspective.
We were in New York. When it happened.
"We'll see the world, pal!" he said, "We'll go cross country, first!"
It did sound exciting. There were so many places I had read about, but never seen. I was looking forward to it.
FLAG had faced a relapse in funds. A series of bounced checks. We were let to have a vacation this time. Things were quiet, anyway.
He looked old. He hadn't become gray yet, but he had visible signs of aging. He looked very wise, despite the fact that he occasionally sent a tacky remark to a waitress, half-jokingly. I think, at least. He still got stares from women. He was quite the "ladies man" as he had once put it himself.
We stopped in Texas. I took a scan. There actually is no basement at the Alamo.
The Bayou is an area we skipped, considering our trouble last time.
Florida. Very crowded. People seem to worship that little mouse.
Boston. Lovely Boston. Lexington, nearby, was still as beautiful as ever. I took a scan of Buckman's Tavern. The clock did stop once. Although, if you ignore what must have been a two-second stop, yes, the clock was still running, since 1775.
September 11th is a date that will live in infamy, so to speak, in my data-processors. We were casually driving down the road when it happened. We saw the smoke. I took a scan. We heard the radio. Another one had hit.
It was no accident.
I saw the glint in Michael's eye return. It had long-since faded away, the glint that said he was ready again. Wheather he was 50, or 150, the look returned. Gone were the wrinkles, gone were the fat bulges. Life returned to him. It was his chance. He had lost the spirit several years before, when Devon had died. He lost his will.
We arrived at the Towers, both had been hit. He sent me to work "Peeling my Scanners", like old times. I found no bomb, which is what Michael had me check for. I reported to him. Another was headed for the Pentagon.
He jumped in, and placed me into Super Pursuit Mode. It felt good. Like a strech. I had not gone this fast in years.
We reached the Pentagon, the plane was coming down. He ordered Micro-Jam. I couldn't. The circuit had long since burned out. It was never replaced.
I told him that the Towers had just collapsed. I let him know that President Bush was saying it was Terrorism.
He cursed. This scared me. I will never forget his slight little whisper of "Bastards..." I had never seen him this determined before.
The plane hit the Pentagon just before I briefed him on the Towers' collapse.
And there was another plane, I heard, heading for the White House. Back to Super Pursuit.
Michael stopped. He heard that the plane had crashed, away from it's intended target. Those people. Then, he did something very sad.
He cried. He cried for all the nation, and all the world, and he cried for vengeance. He cursed himself.
"Should have been there. Should have done something...." I tried to console him. He wouldn't accept it.
So, now, months have passed. A year, in fact.
Now, yet again, on September 11th, he walkes toward me, from the New York Ceremonies. He has been training. He lookes stronger. FLAG has come back, and he assumed command. After staring at the American Flag for a few moments, his head down, concentrating, he comes back to me.
I, too, concered with the Moment of Silence. I grieved.
I get a radio signal. A possible Al-Queda associate has been found.
The gleam returnes to his eye. Determination and anger overtakes him. He shifts me into gear, and we head out. Burning rubber, towards the expected address.
After all of these forsaken years, after all of the wasted time, he finally says it, with a slight sob;
"Okay pal, Let's show them that one man can make a difference!"
We skid away, together, both of us Determined Knights.
--Dedicated to the victims of 9/11. Show them that we will not take abuse!
One Nation can make a difference!
This is also up on a website the URL is: http://www.geocities.com/doc_lathrop_brown/knights.html
Enjoy, and tell me what you think.
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