They arrived in Deming late that afternoon and the first order of business was to stop by the law office of Jorge's attorney. Finding the right building was no problem. In a matter of minutes, KITT rolled to a halt in front of an adobe-styled office complex. It was almost quitting time when Michael entered the building. After speaking with Jorge's lawyer for a few minutes, he came back out and they took off, heading over to the county courthouse and local jail. Again, KITT stopped in front of an old-fashioned brick structure with a steeple-like tower.

"Here we are, Michael," the computer informed his partner,

"Thanks, KITT," he answered and popped open the door. "I shouldn't be long."

"Take your time," KITT said. "The evening news is on. I'll tune into that and see if I can get any details on Jorge's situation. It's certain to be a big item in this town."

"Good idea," Michael said and got out. Twilight was approaching and he pulled his black driving jacket over the tan sports shirt he wore. The day was warmer than usual for January, but nighttime in the desert was always cold. He strolled inside the complex, heading for the secretary-receptionist who was typing at her desk. When she didn't look up, he cleared his throat.

"Uh, excuse me. I'm Michael Knight from the Foundation for Law and Government. I'm here to see Jorge Dominguez," he said, presenting his business card.

The woman looked up from her work, glancing over the rim of her wire framed glasses. She looked like a prairie schoolmarm from the late 1800s. Her dour expression brightened as she looked at Michael's handsome face. "Oh, you're Mr. Knight," she said in surprise. "Mr. Aquilla called to say you'd be right over. I wasn't expecting you to be here so soon."

She was obviously flustered. Michael couldn't figure out if it was his appearance or his swiftness in getting from the attorney's office to the government complex.

"Here, let me show you the way back." She stumbled from her chair and Michael caught her, steadying her slight frame. "Oh, how awkward of me," she said, embarrassed. "Thank you for your assistance, young man. This way, please." She walked briskly toward a corridor leading to a group of office cubicles, and Michael practically had to run to keep up with her.

"I'm so ashamed. I've been in and out of that chair at least a thousand times and I've never been so clumsy," she apologized again. "By the way, I'm Beatrice ... Miss Beatrice Short."

"Glad to meet you," Michael responded, "--Miss Short." He felt like he was addressing one of his teachers back in elementary school. She certainly looked the part, from the graying hair pulled into a neat bun on the back of her head and the over-conservative dress she wore, to the orthopedic shoes on her feet.

"Oh, call me Bea. Everyone does around here." They entered a short hall and the woman knocked on an old wooden door whose surface was scratched and marred and had obviously been varnished many times.

"Come in!" a gravelly voice answered.

Bea leaned into the room. "Moe, Mr. Knight is here. Would you take him down to the men's wing? He's here to talk with el loco."

"Yeah."

Michael heard a chair creak loudly and out lumbered a heavy-set man in a khaki uniform that was as rumpled looking as its owner.

"Folla me," Moe rumbled, and started out of the cul-de-sac hall.

"Thank you," Michael said and nodded at Beatrice, then followed the jailer.

"Anytime!" she called, waving her fingers in a farewell gesture. "If you need anything else, look me up."

The jail was typical of every small town lock-up Michael had ever seen, from the cold, impersonal walls and functional furniture, right down to the peeling paint on the ceiling. He considered Beatrice's remark about Jorge. The young man's lawyer had given Michael the same impression. Everyone thought Jorge had lost his mind. Only Officer Davilla believed the honor student, and he hadn't yet talked to the officer about the situation.

They stopped at a cell and the jailer pulled his key-ring out to open the door. Michael entered to see a solemn young man sitting on a bunk.

"Hello, Jorge. I'm Michael Knight, The Foundation sent me to look into your case."

"Gracias a Dios!" Jorge rose from his bed, his serious expression changing to one of relief.

Michael looked down at him, noticing the dark circles around his eyes, and the lines of weariness in the young man's face.

"Mr. Miles called my lawyer and told him you were on your way. At first I thought you were another reporter. I'm very glad you aren't," he said and offered his hand in friendship.

Michael smiled and grasped it firmly. "Well, my questions will probably make me sound like one." Just then he glanced at the young man's left hand. An ugly bruise covered the back of it and he frowned. "What happened here?"

"I don't know." Dominguez shrugged and glanced at it. "I woke up with it: To be truthful, I don't remember much about what happened."

"Then tell me what you do remember."

Jorge stiffened and slowly turned away. "You wouldn't believe me. You'll say I'm crazy, too."

"Try me."

Hesitantly, Jorge began his story, speaking softly. "I was returning from Matamoros, my home in Mexico. I'd been traveling since early morning the day before. As you probably already know, I was heading for Las Vegas--that's where I live with my brother and sister-in-law while I attend law school. Well, I was making good time, and I decided to stop at Silver City and stay with some friends. I was so tired. Anyway, what I saw on that deserted highway was unbelievable." He faced Michael again, appearing calm, but Michael could see the fear in his eyes. Jorge looked at the floor and shrugged again. "Maybe I didn't see anything. Like I said, I was tired from driving. Maybe I hallucinated the whole thing."

"What did you see?" Michael asked, patiently.

"A huge blinding light. I remember," he said, his face creased in concentration, "my car stalled as the light passed over me. I froze, I couldn't move and I watched it hover a moment. Then it came toward me again and my stupid car started doing crazy things. The radio, the horn, the lights just went--" He paused and gestured with his hands. "--how do you say it?" He snapped his fingers. "Berserk! It just wouldn't stop, and the car was rocking and shaking to pieces. Believe me, I got out of it real fast!"

He stopped speaking, his eyes growing wide with realization. "The light! It just dawned on me; the light didn't bother me anymore. It was beautiful and I turned to look at the thing. It was hypnotizing and as I watched, I heard a low buzzing sound. Yes, like a purr, but it grew louder and louder, then I must've blacked out." He frowned and rubbed his jaw. "It's strange, I remember seeing it leave, but then nothing else until Officer Davilla flashed that light in my face. It scared me to death. I thought it had come back."

"It? The UFO?" Michael asked, and Jorge nodded. "What did it look like?"

"Round, like a wheel and very bright."

Now it was Michael's turn to look at the pitted floor. He hated the next question he was going to ask. "Have you ever taken drugs or been involved with drugs in any way?"

Jorge's head snapped up. "No, sir!" he exploded. "I hate drugs! Those damn things are the reason I had to bury my sister on Christmas Eve! I don't need them and never will. If I dreamed that thing last night, it wasn't drug induced."

"Whoa! I believe you. I've checked your files through the Foundation " but I had to ask just to make sure. You saw something last night. What it was, we may never know--but there is the unanswered question of how a kilo of coke got into your car."

"I can't explain it," the young man said evasively.

"You must have some idea. Who'd plant it, Jorge?"

"I can't tell you."

"You have to tell me."

Jorge looked out through the cold steel bars, obviously fighting an internal battle to make a decision. "Juan Rodriguez," he mumbled at last.

"Who's Juan Rodriguez? Why would he do this to you?"

Jorge shook his head. "It's a long story."

"I have the time."

Jorge began to pace the confines of the small cell. "It has to do with my sister. Juan Rodriguez is a very rich and powerful man in northeastern Mexico. His hand is in everything from laundering money, to prostitution, to drugs every racket. Two years ago, my sister Rosa left our home to go to trade school in the city. We were poor dirt farmers and she took a job at one of the hotels as a cocktail waitress to help with her school expenses. My mother was horrified and my father wouldn't speak to her. They called her a puta, a whore. There were bad feelings. Then my parents died in an auto accident. My brother was living in the U.S. and I was in Mexico City studying pre-law. Money was tight and we couldn't help her much, but we tried. I gave her what I could. That's when Rodriguez stepped into the picture. She quit school and became his puppet. I visited her the week before she was killed. She had become just what my father had called her, a drug-using prostitute doing Rodriguez's bidding. She told me she was going to die because she refused to do something for Juan." The young man stopped and looked pensively through the cell bars. "Rosita, I didn't believe you. I'm sorry," he said in a half-whisper.

Michael felt sorry for the kid. He knew the pain of losing someone you care about. Slowly, he moved to where the young man stood and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I see," Michael said somberly. "This Rodriguez killed her?"

"Oh, I'm certain of it." His voice trembled slightly as Jorge spoke. "But I have no proof."

"If it is this guy, why would he come after you?"

"Rosa gave me something to keep for her. I didn't know what it was. I thought it was a diary. It turned out to be something very important to Rodriguez. He must've found out she had taken it and given it to me."

"What was in this diary?"

"Uh, plans--records. It was a typical black book full of names and places that are important to drug dealers."

"Ah-ha! And where is it now?"

"In a safe place where it will remain," Jorge answered evenly. "There's nothing in it that would clear me."

"But it might help us tie Rodriguez to that coke."

Jorge shook his head. "And I could see it falling into his hands and then Rosa will have died for nothing, No, it's my ace in the hole, as you would call it." Jorge turned to face Michael. "I may be a first-year law student, but I know how things look and they look bad for me. I'll be convicted, lose my scholarship and residence card, then be deported back to Mexico to rot in jail," Jorge said coldly. "And when that happens, I want to take Rodriguez with me!"

The icy chill in the young man's voice surprised Michael. This soft-spoken person hid his anger well--too well. "We'll get him, but I don't want you to sacrifice your future to do it," Michael said. "Did you copy this book?"

"No, I didn't have time."

"Listen, if you give me the book, there might be something I can do."

"No, Michael, there has to be another way. That thing is too important to me. If you prove me innocent of these charges, I'll gladly give it to you so you can start your next assignment: stopping Rodriguez and his dirty plans. Otherwise, right now, it is my life raft."

Michael considered the challenge for a moment. "Okay," he said finally. "You got a deal." He glanced at his watch. "Listen, I have to run. Devon Miles will be here some time tomorrow to post your bail. You just hang tight until he gets here. We'll get to the bottom of this. I promise."

"There is not, much else I can do." Jorge smiled for the first time. 'Good luck."

"Thanks, I'll need it." Michael gave him a pat on the shoulder and called for the jailer.

The squeak of his tennis shoes echoed in the hall as he followed Moe back out of the security area. The office section of the courthouse was quiet and most of the cubicles were dark. Michael pondered Jorge's situation and had to admire the kid for having the guts to stand up to that hood. He considered the many possibilities as to why all this had happened. He had too many unanswered questions concerning the book and Jorge's evasiveness. He instinctively knew the young man was hiding something from him. Then there was the UFO story. Was it real or part of an eleb6rate set-up? He decided to check out the probability of a real flying saucer. It should be easy enough, especially with KITT's help, and if the 'spacecraft' was as bright as Jorge said, then certainly somebody else would have seen it, too.

"Mr. Knight?" a deep voice called, interrupting his thoughts. Michael snapped around to see a uniformed highway patrolman standing in an open office doorway. He was a big man, somewhere in his mid-forties, with salt-and-pepper hair. His redneck suntan indicated he'd seen quite a few years on the force.

"Yes?" Michael replied.

"I'm Officer Robert Davilla. I believe we should talk."

Michael nodded. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I was going to look you up."

"I figured you would." Davilla motioned him into the deserted office. "We can talk in here without any interruption," he said.

Michael entered the small, spartan cubicle and Davilla closed the door behind him.

"When Bea phoned the station and said you were here, I thought I'd, save you the trouble of finding me." He moved the phone over and perched on the edge of the metal desk.

Michael settled in a chair opposite Davilla and studied the man officer had an air of authority around him, yet there was also a gentleness. Michael guessed that Davilla had seen a lot during his career, but had still retained his humanity. In his own days as a cop on the streets, Michael had seen some men let a little bit of power go to their heads. Not so with this man. And as he studied Davilla, the officer was studying Michael as well, the look on his face conveying acceptance.

"It seems we have a common interest in one Jorge Dominguez. I'm glad you came as soon as you could. This is an unusual case."

"I'll say," Michael said nodding. "A good, law-abiding honor student sees a UFO and finds a mysterious package of cocaine in his car. Something definitely smells."

Davilla gave Michael an even glance. "Do you think he saw one?"

Michael chewed his lip thoughtfully and sighed. "Well, I believe he saw something. What it was, I don't have an answer. "You wouldn't happen to have any ideas?"

"I might," Davilla said evasively. "I'll tell you what I know, and what I'm about to say will be strictly off the record, understand?"

"Absolutely."

"When the call came in on an accident on Highway 180, I figured it was another fender-bender. I got to the scene first and found Mr. Dominguez lying beside the road. I thought he was dead. His car was scattered from hell to breakfast, so naturally I assumed he'd bought the farm. I went to check him and there wasn't a mark on him, or so I thought. When I flashed my light in his face, it was like dynamite exploding. I don't scare easy, but when you think someone's dead and suddenly they come back to life, it'll scare the hell out of you. After I collected my wits, I tried to calm him down, but it was like he was in a trance. He kept on babbling in Spanish."

"Could you understand what he was saying?"

"Yeah, I know enough Spanish to get by around here, but be spoke so fast I could only catch words and phrases. He said something about his eyes hurting from the bright light and to stop--waving something." Davilla shook his head. "He said more, but I couldn't understand him."

Michael took in the words, his mind racing. His eyes narrowed and he steepled his fingers as he watched the officer. "Do you think he was ambushed, drugged and the plant was made right there?"

"I think it was a set-up, but not exactly that way. You see, we checked around the accident site last night and again this morning. There are no skid marks, no evidence of another vehicle whatsoever." Davilla pulled a folded envelope from his back pocket and handed it to Michael. "Here, and don't say where you got this, either."

Michael took it, ripped it open and looked at what turned out to be a crime lab report. He skimmed it as Davilla continued.

"As you can see, he wasn't drugged, he wasn't drunk or high, either. No fingerprints were found on the package. The wreckage of his car shows no evidence of an explosion or anything else we can think of. It's as if the car crushed itself--if that makes any sense to you."

"Weird. Who reported the incident?"

"Fella by the name of Ted Cooper. He's a security guard at the Sat-Trak station not far from where Dominguez was found. We questioned him earlier, but he wasn't much help."

Michael looked at his com-link and checked the time. "Would he still be there? I'd like to talk to him."

"He should be. He's on mid-shift at the tracking station and gets off duty at eight tonight. We checked on him as a possible suspect. So far he's clean."

Michael stood to leave. "Well, I'd better head-out there now if I'm going to catch him. Thanks for the info; you've given me a start."

"You're welcome. I just hope you can make some sense out of all this."

"I'm gonna try," Michael said and -reached for the doorknob. He paused and looked back at Davilla, who remained perched on the desk. "Officer, something bothers me. Somehow, you give me the impression you believe he actually saw a UFO."

"I do," Davilla answered evenly.

Michael's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Why?"

Davilla scratched his ear and looked at the floor. "Because a year ago, in that same area, I saw one." He looked up at Michael, his face a stone mask. "What that young man described to me was exactly the same thing I saw. Exactly the same." Davilla kept his gaze on Michael. "You remember me mentioning that Jorge didn't have a mark on him--or so we thought?"

"Yes," Michael answered, thinking back to his visit with the young Mexican. "Wait a minute, his left hand--"

"Bruised, two puncture marks on top of it. I had the same," Davilla said, going over to Michael. He raised his left hand and Michael saw two faint scars that rested over the main vein pattern on the back of the patrolman's hand.

"To top all this off, Jorge suffered a time loss, although he probably doesn't realize it yet."

"How do you know?"

"We got the call at eight twenty-three. I checked the kid's personal belongings when we brought him in. His watch stopped at six fifty-two p.m."

"Don't tell me, you suffered a time loss, too?" Michael asked, already knowing the answer,

Davilla nodded. "No apparent damage to the watch, either. It just stopped."

"Well," Michael started, not knowing how to take Davilla's story, "instead of answering my questions, you're adding to them. If I find out anything, I'll let you know. Thanks again." He opened the door and started to leave.

"No problem," Davilla answered. "Oh, Mr. Knight? One more thing."

"Yeah?" Michael leaned back into the room.

"Only my wife knows what I just told you ... about last year. I'd appreciate it if--"

"Consider it done," Michael said, and headed out the door.

"Loud and clear," KITT replied, his red voice bars flashing brightly in the darkness. It added a strobe effect to the colorful glow of the other telltales shining on his complicated dashboard. Michael keyed the ignition as KITT cued the headlights and the two left the courthouse.

'All of this is very interesting. Do you suppose some extraterrestrials are really trying to make contact?"

"I don't know. This whole mess is starting to sound like something out of Star Trek.

"I know. I keep expecting Captain Kirk to say, 'Beam me up, Scotty!"

Michael squinted at the vox-box, puzzled. "How would you know anything about that?"

"Well, I don't sit idle in the garage all night. I find late night reruns very entertaining on most occasions. "

"Better watch it, pal, TV will rot your CPU," Michael laughed. "Let's get down ' to business. I want you to get me any information you can on a Juan Rodriguez and anyone connected with him. He's a resident of Matamoros, Mexico, and is a big man in the rackets there. I want to know what he is been doing, lately." Michael concentrated on the road as he spoke. City lights flashed by as he took a turn and headed for the interstate.

"That may take some time, Michael. I'll have to contact Interpol and see what their computers have. By the way, where are we headed?"

"To the Sat-Trak station to talk to Ted Cooper. He's the only witness we have. I'm hoping he'll remember something more about last night."

A traffic light turned red and KITT came to a stop. Michael glanced at the surroundings, seeing a sign that showed the way to the interstate. "Uh, while you're waiting for Interpol why don't you pull up a map of the area and give me the quickest route to the tracking station."

"Right away, Michael." Immediately a grid map appeared on the secondary video screen. Sections showing numbers and names of places flashed by until KITT stopped on one in particular. A red line highlighted the best route. "Here you are."

"At least we're going the right way," Michael said as the light turned green.

The sleek black form of the Knight 2000 pulled onto the main drag, heading toward the outskirts of town. The hiss of KITT's hydrogen-fueled turbine engine filled the air as they passed through the streets. In minutes they passed the city limits sign and headed out on the open highway. The lights of civilization shrank back in the distance as they proceeded west on Interstate 10.

"Sat-Trak. Isn't that the newest U.S. space-tracking installation?"

"That's what I hear. I read something back at the Foundation on how the Defense Department was going to add something to the whole shebang. Soup it up somehow."

"Really, Michael, I wish you'd be more precise. The information April gave me reveals that Sat-Trak is to become an early warning defense system, as well as a data-gathering center on deep space."

"Yeah, that's it," Michael said, then frowned. "Why did April give you that information?"

'Michael, I'm a computer. I don't question the data I'm given." KITT paused a moment. "The only reason she gave was that she thought it would be useful in our investigation."

Michael shook his head and smiled. Sure, you don't question your input, he thought. KITT's high beams reflected off a road sign, indicating the off-ramp to Highway 180 was not far away. He leaned back and glanced at the vox-box. "Say, aren't you searching for facts on Rodriguez.

"Of course."

"Oh. Have you found anything yet?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. The information you seek has just come through." KITT's primary screen lit up, revealing a picture of a white-haired, mustachioed man. To Michael, he looked younger than the age mentioned in the summary under the photo.

"Juan Luis Rodriguez, age sixty-five. He's of Italian/Mexican heritage. Businessman, with textile and agricultural operations throughout Mexico. Prominent in politics in Matamoros, where he resides. Very wealthy! There was an Incident about a year and a half ago that occurred in Matamoros. It seems an ambassador from the island nation of Isla Bella was assassinated while visiting Mr. Rodriguez. It was quite a scandal. Mr. Rodriguez was implicated at one point, but according to the news reports, the police dropped the investigation due to lack of evidence. Comparing this information, Rodriguez's banking -records at that time show several large amounts of cash were withdrawn. Sounds, suspicious if you ask me."

"Money talks, KITT. So he bribed them and got away scot-free. Anything else?"

"Oh yes, there's lots more." KITT's second video screen lit up. On it was a picture of a younger man; black-haired, with a moustache and goatee and swarthy complexion. "Rafael Ortega, of Spanish and Indian background. Born in Mexico City, age thirty-nine. He's got quite a record. He started working for Rodriguez in his early twenties and worked his way through the ranks. He's now Rodriguez's right-hand man and is expected to take over when the old man retires." KITT paused a moment. "The two seem to deserve each other."

"Yeah," Michael agreed as he glanced down at the screen. "Looks like he'd stab you the moment your back was turned. Is there any clue to their present whereabouts?"

"Just a moment," KITT replied. Several lights on the dash flashed and a clicking sound came from the board. "I'll check the airlines and related travel systems."

As Michael waited for KITT to search, he saw the intersection he'd been looking for. He guided the Knight 2000 onto the off-ramp and headed north on Highway 180. A star-speckled night sky hung over the desert and ghostly images of shrubs and cacti dotted the landscape. The moon was low in the sky, just hovering over the distant mountains.

"Michael, I've found him! He left Mexico two days ago in his private jet. The flight path he filed indicates he's in Las Vegas right now."

"This is getting more interesting all the time. Give me a hard copy of those mug shots. I might need 'em. Sat-Trak shouldn't be far now."

"We're six point eight miles away, to be precise. We should arrive at the installation in approximately seven minutes." KITT paused a moment. "Michael?"

"Yes, KITT?"

"Do you believe in extraterrestrials?"

It was Michael's turn to pause as he mulled KITT's question over for a while.

"Well--yes, I guess I do. This is a big universe, so why should we be the only ones in it?"

'That's a good point. I guess there's got to be a Wookiee somewhere in the universe.

"A Wookiee?" Michael gave his partner a blank look.

"Star Wars. I saw it on HBO.

"KITT, you're incorrigible!"

'What do you mean? I've only just begun. You're not upset that I scan video signals, are you?"

"No, I'm not upset," Michael said, smiling to himself. "To be truthful I enjoy the old movies and reruns on TV, too. It's part of my past that I don't have to forget."

He pulled onto an access road leading to a group of buildings in the middle of nowhere. The place was well lit and looked quite secure. A tall, chain link fence topped with sharp barbed wire stretched around the complex and at the entrance was the typical security checkpoint. KITT slowed, stopping at the barricade and a uniformed man stepped out of the booth. Michael lowered the window and gave his best smile.

"Evening, sir. I'm Michael Knight from the Foundation for Law and Government." He handed the guard his I.D. "I was hoping I could talk to one of the security guards--a Ted Cooper."

The man scratched his head as he looked at the I.D. "Foundation?" He turned toward the light from the booth to get a better look at the card to compare the photo with the person. "Knight? Isn't the Foundation connected with Knight Industries?"

"Yes, sir," Michael answered, wondering why the guard had asked the question.

"Just a moment." The guard entered the booth, making a quick phone call. Moments later, he came back out. "Okay, Mr. Knight- you're clear. Ted Cooper just came off shift and was about to leave. Go straight to that big tan building." He pointed directly in front of them. "That's the main office.

Ted will meet you in the reception area."

"Thank you," Michael answered and took back his I.D. The yellow-and-black striped barricade arm swung up and they pulled away, going through the open gate. Not far from the complex, Michael could see the dark shapes of several huge radio dishes, their bowls tilted toward the sky. They looked like invaders from another planet. Michael guided KITT into the gravel parking area in front of the main entrance.

"I want you to access the station's computers. See if there was anything unusual about last night that we should know about." Michael popped the door open and got out. "Uh--that is, if it doesn't interfere with your prime-time schedule."

"Michael, really! We're on a case. I'd never neglect my duties," KITT responded, sounding hurt.

"I'm just kidding, buddy." Michael gave the car an affectionate pat and proceeded toward the building. A few moments later, he entered the front office reception area. It was after hours, so there was no one else around. The door clicked and a short, wiry man with sharp features, somewhere in his mid-thirties, turned to Michael.

"Mr. Knight?"

"Ted Cooper?" Michael asked.

"That's me!" The man grinned and extended his hand. "Bud told me you're from the Foundation. The computer said your organization is connected with Knight Industries. We have a lot of your hardware in this establishment. What can I do for you?"

Michael grasped the guard's hand; it was a strong grip. He'd wondered why it had been so easy to get in this place--now he knew. "I'm investigating the accident you reported last night and I have a few questions I'm hoping you can answer."

"Oh, yeah, the kid who claims he saw a flying saucer."

Michael nodded. "Do you remember seeing anything unusual last night?"

"I didn't see any little green met, if that's what you're getting at."

Michael smiled and rubbed at the back of his neck. He was beginning to see the problem Jorge was facing. "Well, that's not what I meant. What I mean is, did you see any other vehicles or people in the area?"

The man shook his head and stared thoughtfully at the floor. "No, to tell you the truth, I really wasn't looking. I was going down the road and saw this car laying in pieces like a jigsaw puzzle all over the place. I got out and checked around and found this guy on the side of the road. Man, he was stone cold to the touch. I thought he was dead, so I hurried back here and placed the to report it."

"And that's all you saw?"

"That's it. The only other thing that happened last night was an unexpected meteor shower. The scientists were really buzzing about it." He snapped his fingers and pointed at Michael. "Hey, that could be his UFO."

"It's a possibility," Michael commented. "There's nothing else you can think of?"

Cooper frowned. "New, just the meteor shower. When the story of a UFO sighting reached he-re, the scientists checked into it. If that kid had seen a UFO, we'd have known about it." The guard hesitated, and then looked up. "Do you think he actually saw one?"

"The way this case is going, I'm ready to believe anything," Michael replied. "Well, thanks for letting me take a little of your time."

"No trouble. I wish I could be more helpful, but that's all I saw."

"'s okay. Thanks again," Michael said.

"Any time," Cooper answered.

Michael nodded and left the reception area, going out the front doors. Moments later, he was back inside KITT. "Did you get anything?" he asked as he started the engine.

"Oh, lots of interesting things. It's been a long time since I've been able to have a decent conversation with another computer.

Michael's eyebrows rose. "Oh!" he said knowingly. "Was she nice?"

"She? Michael, what on earth are you implying?"

"I think you understand exactly what I'm saying," Michael kidded the computer.

"Really!" KITT said indignantly. "If you're implying I'm attracted to Sat-Trak on an emotional basis, I assure you, Michael, I'm not. I wouldn't know what emotions were even if they sat on my hood. I'm a computer, remember?' KITT paused A moment. "But, yes, she was nice," he finished lamely.

Michael laughed and backed the car out of the lot.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, buddy," Michael said, trying to control his amusement. He put the car in gear. "After all, you're just a computer."

They left the parking lot and by the time they passed the security booth, Michael figured KITT could have a comeback of some sort, but his partner remained silent. They traveled further down the road, reaching the highway, and still KITT said nothing. Michael looked at the darkened vox-box.

"KITT, are you okay?"

The computer didn't respond.

Michael sighed and leaned back in the seat. "Aw, don't get all hurt on me. There's nothing wrong in liking someone, even if she is a computer."

KITT still said nothing.

"Come on, don't pout! I'm sure she's a very nice computer. Why don't you tell me what she said." When KITT still didn't reply, Michael glanced at the dash and saw all readouts were normal. KITT was definitely sulking.

"Oh," Michael said in a low tone. "I get it. KITT, you sly devil. While I was working, you two interfaced."

"Michael!" KITT said, shocked. "You don't have to make it sound so--so cheap!"

Michael chuckled; he knew he'd get a rise out of his partner with that last statement. "Well, then what did you get?"

"If you must know, we chatted and I did got some information for you. Sat-Trak did pick up something last night. The scientists termed it an anomaly. The system registered a burst of energy that lasted six point eight seconds. Along with the unusual energy fluctuation, they picked up a meteor shower that unexpectedly appeared over the area. The scientists determined the energy flux to be a magnetic reflection from iron-ore meteors passing through the atmosphere. Sat-Trak told me that one of them didn't burn up. It fell and disappeared below radar range. Point of impact was calculated and a team of scientists went to investigate, but nothing was found. The suspected landing-site is several miles from the scene of Jorge's accident."

"So the UFO Jorge saw could have been the surviving meteor." Michael frowned and shook his head. "But it doesn't explain what happened to his car."

"I wish I could help you on that, but I lack sufficient data to even project probabilities."

"I wish you could help, too. There's a lot of unanswered questions and the list keeps growing." Michael stared at the road, but his concentration was centered on piecing the facts together. The story he came up with didn't make much sense. "KITT, tell me what you think of this: Jorge leaves Mexico by car. He was going to attempt a nonstop run, but even so, he'd have to get gas and food along the way. Assuming this Rodriguez is after him, he could put a tail on the kid and the plant is made after they cross the border. At the appropriate time, they ambush the guy, drug him and tear up his car. They fake a UFO to scare him and leave. The cops come along, find the stuff and arrest him. Bingo, instant incarceration. Jorge would be discredited, and therefore no longer a threat to Rodriguez."

'Good explanation, Michael, but your story contains some holes. Like the location of the black book and the time factor. It takes quite a while to dismantle a car, even if it is a Volkswagen. Then there's the lack of evidence indicating a skirmish between Jorge and--whoever you think might have ambushed him,"

"Yeah," Michael said with a sigh. "You're right, but it's a lot more believable than a UFO." He paused a moment to think. "Hey, if there actually was a flying saucer, wouldn't it leave some type of trail behind it?"

"It should, but then we're getting into an unknown area. Without facts, anything could be possible."

"Okay, then." Michael said. "KITT, we're gonna take a look at where Jorge had his close encounter."

"Close Encounters? Now that was an Interesting film. A bit slow in the beginning, but it had an excellent ending,"

Michael shook his head in mock-frustration. "KITT, you're becoming a fanatic. Why don't you zero in on Masterpiece Theater? I thought that'd be more to your taste."

"Oh, I enjoy that program immensely. Unfortunately, the major networks don't offer much of that caliber on the airwaves.'

KITT's aerodynamic silhouette slashed through the night air as they raced to the site of the incident the evening before. Once again, the stars sparkled brightly, pale moonlight lit the landscape, and scattered, puffy clouds decorated the winter sky.

Minutes later, Michael and KITT arrived at the spot, and the black car pulled off the road. "How's this?"

"Just fine. I'll begin scanning now.'

KITT's sensors engaged and his video screens came to life. Michael couldn't figure out what they were displaying, but it showed him that his partner was sweeping the area. Minutes passed while KITT continued his search and Michael tried to wait patiently.

"Anything yet?" he finally asked.

"Unfortunately, no. Any evidence of humans or others in this area would have vanished within a few hours." KITT's red sensor light tracked slowly back and forth as he searched the deserted road. "Wait a minute, I've got something."

"What is it?"

"Unusual energy residues. The rocks along the road contain small amounts of metallic ores and my magnetic sensor indicates they're charged with--the same type of energy that Sat-Trak picked up!"

"This isn't helping," Michael said, and chewed the tip of his thumb in frustration. "I was hoping we'd get some concrete evidence. This unusual energy proves nothing; it just adds more to the mystery." He sank back in the seat. "KITT, could someone fake a UFO sighting?"

"It would take some doing. They would have to have the means to produce optical effects rather convincingly," he replied.

"Let's go back to Sat-Trak. I have some questions for the scientists about all this. Something about it bugs me."

"Aye, Captain."

"Aye, Captain?" Michael repeated, puzzled.

"Sorry, I got carried away with the science fiction aspect of all this. Why, this is the stuff movies are made of!"

Michael shook his head and whipped the Knight 2000 around in a sharp turn, heading back to the satellite tracking station.

"Don't tell me; your favorite television characters are Mr. Spock from Star Trek, because he's logical, and K-9 from Doctor Who, because he's a computer, right?"

"Why, Michael, I didn't know you watched those shows! Actually, I'm glad I tune into them. It gives me an understanding of the human fascination with other worlds. The Day The Earth Stood Still is a classic."

"'Fascination' is putting it mildly, KITT. With some people it can be an obsession." Michael glanced at the vox-box as he drove. "Why all of a sudden have you gotten into these media things?"

'Well, when we're not on assignment, I find it pleasantly whiles away the time. I mean you can only sit in a garage or parking lot for just so long before getting bored silly."

Michael chuckled, thinking about his own life. "So true, pal." It was then that he realized how confined KITT really was. No matter how human he seemed, he was still a machine and there were things he'd never truly experience. Oh, he could examine them and analyze sensations like touch, taste, smell and sight, but the true experience would always be beyond him.

KITT's voice broke the quiet. "Michael!"

"Huh? What?" he asked, snapping back from his thoughts.

"I'm picking up that unusual energy again! It's stronger, more concentrated, and it's following us."

"Following us? Can you scan it, tell me what it is?"

"I'll try, but I'm picking up a high spectrum energy of some kind. It's jamming my visual sensors." The viewscreens inside KITT flared, but all they portrayed was snowy static. "My word! The thing is huge, and it's airborne. I suggest that, we--"

"I'm way ahead of you!" Michael hit the pursuit button and was pressed back in his seat as KITT shot forward in a burst of speed. The speedometer numbers climbed higher and higher as the two rocketed down the highway, fleeing--from what, they didn't know and weren't anxious to find out.

"It's no good, Michael. It's still gaining on us!" KITT announced, almost frantic.

A bright, glaring light glowed behind them as Michael glanced in the side mirror and gasped. It lit the sky like a huge fireball, growing closer and closer. A low purring noise grew louder as the thing approached.

"Come on, KITT, get us outta here!" he yelled.

"I'm trying!"

The dazzling light grew to blinding intensity as it overtook the two.

"Michael--my el..ric..l sys..ms are exp ... enc..! disrupt...."

KITT's power waned, the speedometer numbers falling like a rock down a mountainside. Its the white light saturated the area. Michael heard the turbine engine die with a pitiable whine.

"KITT? KITT!" Panic rose in Michael's throat as he tried to maneuver the powerless Knight 2000 off the road. All the lights on KITT's dash winked out like candles as the brilliance filled the car, enveloping them. The car coasted to a stop and he tried to get out, but the door wouldn't budge. Something invisible, held it shut. "KITT!" Michael screamed, as pure terror seized him and he fought to open the door. Lights played across his face and he shut his eyes, resisting their mesmerizing effect. The buzzing noise rose to a shrill crescendo, sending burning pain through his skull He grimaced and clutched at his ears, trying to block the ultrasonic waves. Sweat trailed down his face as he fought the hypnotic lights and paralyzing noise, but it was a losing battle and he felt consciousness slip away as he slumped forward in the driver's seat.

In the towering MGM-Grand Hotel, a man sat in the comfort of the penthouse suite, sipping his J&B and water. He sat in a cushioned recliner, a wine red satin robe tied at his waist, slippers on his feet. It was late and he enjoyed spending this time of the evening alone. It gave him an opportunity to think. Age and experience lined his face and he wasn't as slim as he used to be, but Juan Rodriguez thought he'd done well for a man of his meager beginnings.

He considered the day's activities. The heavy weapons purchase would be agreed upon tomorrow and Jorge Dominguez would also be dealt with. He smoothed his silver-gray hair back again. Damn, there should be word now if the young whelp had made it home. He was expected to arrive at Pedro Dominguez's house tonight. Enrique had called and said the plant had been made across the border when Jorge had stopped at a diner to eat. Damn, where was Rafael? He should have at least called.

Rodriguez's thoughts focused on the recent past. 'He recalled the reasons for setting up the younger Dominguez. If he'd realized what Rosa had been doing, none of this would be happening. Dominguez had to have that book. A lot of evidence was in it, pointing in his direction. The book was important and he had to have it back if his plans for Isla Bella were to succeed. Perhaps he was getting too old for this business. Thoughts of retiring had crossed his mind and maybe after this weapons venture he would, and he knew just the place. When he was younger, he'd never have let something like that book leave his sight. Oh, yes, Rosa Dominguez had fooled him, but she'd gotten her just desserts.

He got up and crossed the deep-pile brown carpet to look out the window. Below him, cars passed, lights flashed on the other hotel billboards, but he didn't really see them.

Rosa, he thought wistfully. She had been a soft, beautiful woman. Why did she betray him? Was it her accursed brother that turned her away from him or could Rodriguez simply have been blind to what she really was--young and greedy, devious and selfish. Nothing like what his wife of twenty-six years had been. But his beloved Noemi had passed away and he had been lonely. Rosa had come along at the right time and probably saw nothing but security in him, not love. No matter what, Rosa had reminded him of his late wife and perhaps that was why he let himself be suckered. As it was she turned out to be more trouble dead than alive. He should never have ordered her execution, but then it was too late for regrets. What was done was done.

He stared at his drink as he swirled the ice cubes. With a shake of his head, he broke away from his recollections. Quickly he gulped down half of the whiskey and water.

The penthouse door opened and a dark young man entered the suite's living room. Juan turned to see Rafael Ortega stride toward him. The younger man nodded at his boss, a smile stretching his thin lips tight. His shiny, slicked back hair matched the color of his black three-piece suit. His features were sharp, like that of a viper ready to strike --the back streets of Mexico City had taught him well and it was obvious. The gold that adorned his fingers and neck contrasted greatly with his dark clothes. His stance gave him an air of authority and one could see that he enjoyed the power he'd gained in the Rodriguez empire. Perhaps that was why Rodriguez liked him; he was so much like himself…arrogant and sometimes cocky, but careful.

"Any luck, Rafael?" Rodriguez asked, his gravelly voice creasing the silence like an un-oiled door.

"Yes and no," Rafael answered, sounding a bit disappointed. "Jorge hasn't shown up yet, but my discussion with his brother was productive. We have their absolute cooperation. They know we are watching and if they don't follow through with their orders, I told them what tragedy would befall them, especially Mrs. Dominguez. Orlando is taking watch outside their house tonight. Should young Dominguez arrive, we'll be ready to move." Rafael stepped over to the bar and poured himself a straight scotch. "Speaking of the little bastard, he should have been here by now. It's been almost three days since he left Mexico. Have you heard from Enrique?"

"No, and I told the stupid pig to call if anything went wrong."

"You don't think Dominguez found the stash and took off with it?" Rafael asked, taking a sip of the strong liquor.

"No, I doubt he'd do that." Rodriguez laughed sarcastically. "Jorge is too pure-hearted to stoop to the level of low-lifes such as us. If he found it, he'd just scatter the contents to the desert winds. While you were at the Dominguez house, did you check his belongings again? He could have slipped our book to Pedro right under our noses."

"Yes, we checked the house again, top to bottom; it wasn't there." Rafael settled on the couch and leaned back. "Pedro and his lovely wife understand that if we don't get the book back there will be grave consequences to bear," He sipped the liquor again. "They don't dare move until we say so."

"Be careful," Rodriguez cautioned his associate as he, too, settled back in his recliner. "Not too much pressure at once. There is still our other business in this fine American city that we must finish and I would hate to attract attention. As soon as we can negotiate with Mr. Frost and end our business with Dominguez, we can return home with nothing to worry about. Why, I've even been thinking of taking a vacation. It would be a good time to visit Isla Bella again, don't you think?"

"I suggest you wait until our plans come to fruition." Rafael said flatly. "You seem very confidant this will work out, senor. That book has a great deal of incriminating information." Rafael's dark brown eyes darted sharply to his boss. "Even if we get it back, what guarantee do we have that he hasn't duplicated it?"

"Jorge Dominguez is intelligent, but has little common sense. Should he raise that ugly threat, we'll deal with it properly. I'm sure he'd not want any harm to come to his brother and sister-in-law," Rodriguez said coldly.

Rafael laughed. "It's funny! We threaten Pedro with Jorge's life and then threaten Jorge with Pedro's and Joaquina's life. They're such spineless fools!"

"Good luck for us, eh?" Juan joined in on the laughter. They held their glasses in the air in a toast to themselves, when suddenly the phone rang, shattering their merriment. Rafael sprang to answer it.

"Bueno? Si." he said and paused as the other person spoke. "What? He's in Deming and what?" Rodriguez waited impatiently as he listened to the one-sided conversation. "I see. Okay, Enrique, you know what to do and use as much money as you need. We need eyes and ears in that town. Keep us posted." He hung up the receiver and turned to the older man.

"Jorge Dominguez is in jail in Deming, New Mexico. Drug charges."

"What? How in the hell did that happen?" Rodriguez snapped.

"It has to do with a tale about a UFO," Rafael answered evenly.

Sol rose over the horizon, sending rays of light over the distant mountains. Lights of passing vehicles glowed as they zipped by heading south. He seemed to be the only one going north. Some fifteen minutes later he spotted the dark ghostly shape of a Trans Am some fifty yards off the highway, its nose nestled in a patch of creosote bushes.

The patrolman pulled his cruiser to a halt on the dusty roadside and stared at the shadowy shape, shaking his head in disgust. Most likely some rich kid was having a good time and just sailed off the road. Wouldn't they ever learn--drinking and driving don't mix. With a sigh, he pulled the microphone and keyed it. "One-Baker-three, send a tow truck to mile marker twenty-three north on Highway 180. Disabled car and it's really stuck."

"Affirmative one-Baker-three," a female voice responded over the speaker.

Davilla grabbed his remote radio and got out to investigate. He trudged across the soft sand and glanced around, then frowned. Something wasn't right. If this was a lost driver, where were the tire tracks in the sand and the plowed up earth and vegetation? There was nothing to indicate how the auto came to rest in its present position.

As he approached, he could make out the shape of someone sitting in the driver's seat. By now he could plainly see the rear of the car and the vanity license plate was California--blue and yellow. K-N-1-G-H-T, he read, and then froze. "Knight!" he said in alarm as a chill spread through him. He ran to the driver's side and peered in. Inside, lay a young man, head against the window, slumped at an obviously uncomfortable angle.

"Mr. Knight? Mr. Knight!" Davilla called as he tapped on KITT's impervious window. Knight looked as dead as his car. Davilla set the remote radio on the car's roof and tried the door. It clicked and slowly he eased it open. The driver teetered into his arms. Quickly he checked for signs of life. There was a heartbeat, but it was so slow, and Knight's respirations were few and far between. His skin was cold to the touch and he was as white as a sheet. Quickly, Davilla examined the back of Michael's hands. On the left one was an ugly bruise, two puncture marks resting over a vein. "Oh, loving mother! Not again," he breathed.

He eased Knight back onto the seat and grabbed his remote off the roof. "One Baker-three to dispatch. Code three! Got a man unconscious. Send ambulance and lab team to location given." The radio dispatcher responded an affirmative, but Davilla half-heard it. He found the manual seat release and lowered the back, trying to make Knight as comfortable as possible. Quickly, he took off his jacket, draping it around the man's shoulders to ward off the still-cool morning air. As he leaned in, his eye caught the super dash of the Knight 2000. Even as dark as the usually colorful console was, it was impressive. He forced himself to ignore it and continued working on the unconscious man. He had to get some warmth into him and the desert chill wasn't helping. He sprinted to the cruiser to get his rain-parka, blankets, towels, anything he might have to cover the man.

Fifteen minutes later, the paramedics arrived with lights flashing and sirens screaming. The mobile crime lab pulled in after them. Davilla met the two EMTs halfway, taking one of the medical cases to lighten his load.

"What happened?" the sandy-haired man asked as they trudged across the loose soil as fast as they could.

"Don't know." Davilla said. "I found him unconscious." He had a good idea of what happened but there wasn't any way he could explain it. Jorge had been in a similar state, but had revived immediately when Davilla touched him, this time was-much different. Knight seemed to be in some kind of shock.

Another paramedic hurried after them, telemetry case in hand. Behind him appeared the stocky shape of Feldberg; two of his lab team personnel hurried past as the man made his way toward the activity.

Davilla helped the medics maneuver Knight out of the car and onto a Stokes litter. Immediately one of them started taking vital signs as the other made contact with the hospital. There was nothing more he could do but stand back and watch.

"What the hell have you found this time, Bob?" Feldberg's voice came from behind. Davilla turned toward him, their eyes meeting momentarily.

"Another Highway 180 mystery." Davilla said and turned his attention back to the EMTs and Knight. "I called you because--" Davilla paused with a sigh. "Well, at first I suspected foul play, but now I'm not so sure. I have -reason to believe this is connected to what Mr. Dominguez saw night before last."

Feldberg snorted. "Next you'll be sayin' you saw lil' green men from Mars, too.

"I didn't say anything like that'll Davilla growled.

"Hey, don't get hot! I was just joking. Jeez!"

"Just get to work before the sun heats this place up," Davilla ordered and turned away.

"The sun? Ha! Don't worry about that--this place is already hot!" Feldberg said sarcastically and waved his men toward the Knight 2000.

"Damn! I've never seen temperature or blood pressure so low!" the sandy haired paramedic said. "You found a vein that'll stay?"

"Finally! Respirations increasing, heart rate improving. He looks stable. Let's go while we have the chance!" the other said.

They lifted the litter and moved to the waiting ambulance. Davilla watched them leave.

"Bob!" Feldberg shouted, pulling back out of Knight's car.

Davilla glanced at his fellow officer, seeing the astounded look on the man's round face.

"Did you see the insides of this thing? It looks like somethin' outta 2001."

"Yeah, I know," Davilla commented as he watched the ambulance squeal off down the road with its siren blaring.

"That's all you're gonna say? 'Yeah, I know?' Who the hell is that guy and what does he do?"

"I really don't know"" Davilla answered flatly. "'Have your guys got anything yet?"

"They just started! What's the matter with you? You've been actin' funny ever since you found the kid two days ago."

"Sorry, Jerry. This whole situation has me spooked. When you're finished going over the car, take it to impound immediately. I'm going to the hospital and I've got to call Mr. Knight's employer to tell him what's happened." On that note, Davilla spun on his heel and headed for his patrol unit.

Davilla's phone call had been very cryptic; Michael had been found unconscious in the desert and KITT was drained of all fuel and power. While the man on the other end of the line had sounded calm, Devon detected a note of uneasiness in his voice that had made him worry even more.

He glanced at his watch, figuring the mobile unit would arrive some time late that night. Hopefully, the doctors would have some answers for his questions before then.

It wasn't long before they arrived at the Mimbres Memorial Hospital in Deming. Devon guided the car into a parking space and the two walked briskly to the building, disappearing through the glass doors.

In the lobby, Devon saw a uniformed Highway Patrolman. The man spied them as w ell and met them halfway.

"Officer Davilla?" Devon asked, looking up at the tall man.

"You must be Devon Miles," Davilla said, offering his hand.

"Yes," he replied, grasping the man's hand. "It's awfully good of you to, meet us here. This is my associate, April Curtis."

"Ms. Curtis," Davilla said pleasantly. "I wish I had an associate as pretty as you, ma'am."

"Thank you, officer," she said. "We got here as soon as we could. Any word on Michael?"

Davilla's smile disappeared. "I'm afraid not. I checked on him during lunch, and when I got off-shift an hour ago. He's still out like a light. Dr. Fernandez said he'd meet us upstairs after he finished his rounds."

Quickly, the three left the lobby, disappearing into the elevator. Moments later, they stood in a comfortably furnished waiting room. Magazines lay scattered on the end-tables and old newspapers lay folded on the scratched coffee table. Pictures of serene landscapes and tranquil meadows hung on the beige-painted walls and a coffee pot sat steaming in the far corner of the room.

"It shouldn't be long," Davilla commented as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"I just don't understand this." Devon shook his head and began to pace, while April seated herself on the smooth vinyl couch. "How could this have happened?" Devon asked and glanced at Davilla. "Have you any other information on what happened to Michael?"

Davilla sipped the hot liquid and grimaced. "No, but I can speculate," he said and set the cup down on the beverage stand.

Just as the man was about to elaborate, a short, dark-haired man entered. His-gaudy golfing trousers alone could've lit up the room. He tucked his glasses in his white lab-coat pocket and nodded. "Davilla, how are you?"

"Dr. Fernandez." The officer gave a half-smile and nodded. "Fine. This is Devon Miles and April Curtis from the Foundation."

"Ah, yes, we spoke on the phone earlier today," Fernandez said as he turned to face Devon and April. "I'm afraid Mr. Knight's condition hasn't changed."

"Just what is his condition, Doctor?" April asked firmly.

The little man's eyebrows rose. "I'm sorry, I thought Mr. Miles would have filled you in."

"He told me you didn't know what was wrong," she said.

"What we don't know are the circumstances. From the tests we've -run, it looks like he's suffered a tremendous shock of some kind."

April looked sharply from the doctor to the patrolman. "But you said you found Michael inside his car. The Knight 2000 is fully insulated. There's no way electricity could pass through to the interior. Unless Michael drove into a power plant--and I mean literally into it."

"No, no, not electrical shock, it's more a--psychological shock. The tests we've run show some very puzzling results. The first EEG we took showed brain activity was low. Heart rate, respirations and neurological responses were slow and that bruise on the back of the left hand is quite a mystery. Blood chemistry revealed metabolic rate was greatly reduced. Then we found a bigger mystery. An unknown substance turned up when we ran the drug screening. It's something we've never seen before and doesn't even compare with anything we know." Fernandez looked from April to Devon. "One thing we're sure of is that it's the cause of his present condition."

Devon glanced at Davilla. The officer's face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes did. ' He knew something and Devon was certainly going to question him about it. "How odd," he muttered and looked back to Fernandez. "Can we see him now?"

"Certainly," the doctor said, just as a young nurse stepped inside the room.

"Doctor, Mrs. Crippen is complaining of those unusual pains again."

"Okay, Janet, I'll be right there. Oh, could you show these people to room 201?"

"Sure," Janet replied as the doctor hurried from the waiting room. "Follow me, please," she said and left the doorway.

The three followed the nurse, heading for Michael's room. The muted chatter of relatives visiting patients at the dinner hour buzzed on around them as they rounded the corner of the long hall, nearing room 201.

Abruptly, a shiver ran through Michael's body and the monitor blipped erratically, and then picked up speed. He uttered a soft moan, his head moving slightly from side to side. "Michael..." he breathed. Suddenly, his features twisted with pain. His entire body felt as if it was on fire as awakening nerve endings relayed some unseen torture to his brain. Beads of sweat formed on his skin as he writhed.

"Michael!" he shouted into the mask. Abruptly, his eyes snapped open, his body going rigid. Unseeing, he started at the light-green walls as if in a hypnotic trance. In his mind, a scene unfolded as if it were reality:

The light was blindingly bright and painful. The sleek black form of the Knight 2000 was consumed in brilliant, non-destructive flames. Pain, excruciating pain, filled him and he heard a human voice scream with him. It felt as if he was being torn inside-out and he felt himself rise above his physical form. Somewhere in that limbo, he touched something--somebody--but not quite touching. It was warm and familiar, like someone he knew, but was meeting for the first time. Then the tormenting light faded, the agony going with it and he knew nothing.

His eyes closed, his body relaxing as the vision disappeared. Consciousness faded in and weakly he pulled the bothersome mask from his face. He frowned in concentration, trying to rise out of his stupor, and looked around. "Michael?" he whispered. Somewhere through the haze, the realization of something akilter came to him, confusing him even more. Sensations, his sensations, were real and intense, like he'd never experienced them before. Drunkenly, he struggled to sit up and as he moved, more tactile information poured in. The alien feelings frightened him and panic seized his confused mind. "What's going on? Michael?" he called, reaching out.

The IV tubing attached to his left arm stretched taut; finally pulling-over the fluids stand beside his bed. It crashed to the floor with a terrible racket, yanking the needle loose. He cringed at the stab of pain and the sound of clanging metal. The flood of perception overwhelmed him. "Michael!" he screamed in terror.

The door flew open and the lights came on in a bright flash, stinging his eyes. "No, not again!" he shouted, cowering away from the light. Three figures rushed into the room, while one remained at the door. Their faces were blurred and the voices were unrecognizable. They've come back, he thought. They've come back to torment me. Why are they doing this? I'm a computer! I can't feel emotions or pain. Then why is this so realistic?

Hands touched him, grabbing him, and he panicked. "Michael! Where are you? They're overloading my sensors! Tell me what to do!" Wild-eyed, confused and frightened, he struggled to sit up, tried to get away, but his body wouldn't obey. The cardiac leads had somehow remained attached and the monitor was beeping madly in response to his adrenalin-saturated system. The voices of the two figures on the left reached through his confusion and he ceased struggling. His gaze rested on the two people and their worried faces came into focus. They were much clearer than he'd ever remembered and recognition sparked in his green eyes.

"Devon! April!" he cried in relief. "Am I glad to see you! Something's happened to Michael. I can't raise him on the com-link," he babbled. "I tried to get away, but I wasn't fast enough. It was huge and bright and jammed my systems. I was powerless! They have Michael, we've got to rescue him!" He tried to rise from the bed, his movements jerky.

"Oh, no you don't," Devon said as he held onto the young man.

The cardiac monitor slid halfway off its stand, the screen going blank as it disconnected. The woman in white suddenly let go. Quickly she caught and pushed the machine back, turning in the same motion to grab his arm again. "Mr. Knight, please! Just lie back and relax."

Her voice was as clear as a bell and he stared at her. His awareness sharpened, the confusion in his mind giving way to order. Finally, her words sank in. "Mr. Knight?" he asked, puzzled. "What do you mean by that? Who are you?"

"My name's Janet and I'm your nurse," she said as she hit the call button. "You've been injured and you're just recovering. You're in Mimbres Memorial Hospital, so just relax and lie back. You're safe here," she said soothingly.

"But--" he protested.

Devon gently patted Michael's shoulder. "That's right, Michael. Something happened and we want to be sure you're all right."

"So just take it easy, okay?" April added softly.

Bewildered by his friends' words and actions, he stared back at them, openmouthed. "Michael? Why are you calling me Michael? Don't you recognize me?" he asked. Just then, he caught sight of his reflection on the darkened TV screen opposite the bed. The distorted image made him freeze as he gazed at it. Suddenly, he looked at the walls, the bed, and finally down at himself. "This isn't the mobile unit," he murmured in disbelief. ''This isn't a test program."

"I beg your pardon?" Devon frowned, as if unsure of his colleague's sanity.

The man's head snapped up, a look of pure amazement on his face. "This is real. You're not a computer graphic. I can actually touch, breathe, see--" He reached out, grasping Devon's and April's hands, marveling at the sensation of skin touching skin. "This is incredible. I never thought it would be like this." His gaze rested on the computer technician. "April," he said with a smile. "My sensors don't do you justice. You're much prettier than they relay to me."

Dumbfounded, April stared at him. "The doctor said you suffered some kind of shock." Sympathetically, she patted his left hand, glancing worriedly at Devon. "Just relax and everything will be all right."

Dr. Fernandez rushed into the room. "When did he regain consciousness?"

"A few minutes ago, doctor," the nurse replied, then in a hushed voice continued. "He's been acting strangely ever since he woke up."

The doctor stood by the right side of the bed as the nurse moved to the foot. "Good evening, how are we feeling?" he asked and started giving his patient a cursory examination by taking his pulse.

"We feel confused! What do you think you're doing? Only April touches me!" he said, pulling away from the physician.

"Mr. Knight--" Dr. Fernandez said with authority. "Er, Ms. Curtis said I could examine you when you woke up." He looked up at the auburn-haired woman, as did the man in bed. "Didn't you, Ms. Curtis?"

"Uh, yes. Yes, I did" she quickly agreed.

"Do you have any aches or pains? Feel light-headed?" Fernandez asked, taking a pen light out of his pocket, examining Michael's eyes.

"Noll' he answered, blocking the doctor's action with his arm. "I beg your pardon. Is there some significance to shining that light into my optical sensors?" he asked disdainfully.

Silently, the people in the room stared at him, as though he were crazy.

"Michael, why are you talking like KITT?" April finally asked. Her face was a mask of concern and she grasped both his hands tightly. "What's wrong? You're among friends. You can tell us what happened."

He looked into April's green eyes, feeling like a lost child. "But, I am KITT," he said weakly.

"Oh, dear God." Devon breathed, closing his eyes.

"I don't know how I got into Michael's body, but I'm here. Which means he must be in my CPU." His eyes grew wide at the thought. "Oh, my! My body! Where is it?" Agitated, he struggled to get up. Quickly, Devon and Dr. Fernandez moved to restrain him.

"Your car is in police impound," Davilla said, stepping forward. "Mr. Knight, you mentioned a bright light? Do you remember anything else about last night?"

"Last night?" KITT/m repeated blankly.

"Officer, please!" Dr. Fernandez said sharply. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you all to leave." He pointed to the door. "You'll have your chance to talk after I've finished examining him."

"Of course, doctor," Devon agreed. "Come, April, we can wait just down the hall." Reluctantly, they started for the door.

"No! I want them here!" KITT /m protested, his agitation rising again. He tried to get up as the doctor forced him back down. "I've got to get to Michael! He needs me!" he said through gritted teeth. KITT/m didn't understand why he felt a sudden surge of power as a new comprehension of anger flashed through him. Roughly, he shoved the doctor aside, slamming him into the night table, and climbed out of bed. The nurse grabbed him, trying to keep him back as he staggered away from it. He tried to push her away, losing his balance in the attempt, and both tumbled roughly to the floor with a heavy thump. Almost immediately, Devon and Davilla were beside them, helping them up.

Awkwardly, KITT/m stood up, yanking his arm away from Davilla's support. Dizzy, he leaned against the wall, the position of upright balance throwing his mind into a spin. Stumbling away from the wall, he clutched for the bed, falling to his knees, and the flimsy cotton gown he wore flapped open.

"Michael-KITT," April called softly as she moved to him.

He raised his head to see her standing over him, her hand reaching out. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but her eyes never left his face. "I'll stay with you. But you've got to do as the doctor asks. Do you understand?"

His expression was one of desperation as he reached out to take her hand. "You've got to believe me! Michael could be in serious danger. If this experience has affected me like this, just think what it will do to him." Slowly, with April's help, he rose from the floor. He was tired, but grateful for her help. "April, you do believe me, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," she said soothingly. "I'd know my KITT anywhere.'' She guided him back to bed and made him lay down. "Don't worry about Michael or your body," she said as she pulled the covers over him. "I've seen him and he's fine," she lied. "Now, lie back and let Dr. Fernandez check you over. It'll be similar to what I do when I run tests on your systems relays and check your sub-routines."

Quietly, KITT/m complied. He trusted this woman with his very existence.

Dr. Fernandez brushed himself off as he watched, then turned to the two men. "I'll allow Ms. Curtis to stay, but you two-out!"

"Mr. Miles," Davilla said. "If you like, we could get the car out of impound now."

"I beg your pardon! I'm not just a care'' KITT/m retorted tartly, and sat up again.

"KITT," April said sternly.

"Oh, all right," he responded. Resigned to his fate, he lay back. Devon rested his hand on April's shoulder and she looked up at him, exchanging worried glances. "I'll be fine," she whispered.

Devon nodded and he and Davilla exited the room.

Devon sat on the vinyl-upholstered couch in the waiting room. Worry deepened the character lines in his face as he thought about what he'd just witnessed. He looked over at Davilla, who was trying another cup of coffee, apparently with the same disappointing results. "My God," he murmured. "Michael sounded like a madman. What on earth could have made him lose his mind like that?"

Davilla sat in the chair opposite him and leaned forward, styrofoam cup in hand. "I don't think it was anything on earth," he answered in an even voice.

"That's what I was about to tell you. I think he found Jorge's UFO--or, I should say, it found him."
"What?" Devon asked in disbelief.

"Yep, I said UFO. All the markings are there, all the way to the bruise on the hand."

"Oh, come on, man," Devon admonished. "That's impossible. How do you know?"

"Because I've been through it." Davilla sipped his coffee again. "The thing that puzzles me is why his car didn't go to pieces like mine or Jorge's did. What is that thing made of and who is KITT? Mr. Knight was the only one in the car when I arrived on the scene this morning."

Devon cleared his throat. "KITT is Michael's partner. Actually, he's a computer and a highly sophisticated one at that. He's got a personality and can react to human input," Devon explained succinctly, not wanting to give away too much information concerning the Knight 2000.

"Oh," Davilla said softly, digesting Devon's answer. "That explains all the hardware on the dash." Davilla shifted in his chair. "So, in other words, Mr. Knight thinks he's his computer."

"So it seems," Devon replied, seeing the questioning look on the officer's face. "Obviously you haven't met KITT. You see KITT is a combination of computer and automobile developed by Knight Industries. He's a car that thinks. Sometimes he seems so human, even I forget he's just a machine."

"He sounds like a policeman's dream on wheels," Davilla commented.

Devon studied the man's expression, seeing he was having a time accepting his story. Good, now they were even in the believability department. Unidentified flying objects and such, indeed! Michael was up to something. He had to be. Thoughtfully, Devon rubbed his jaw. It was a pretty good act---would he actually go this far?

The tap of heels coming down the corridor sounded and Devon turned to see April enter the room. Her face showed the strain and worry she felt as she leaned against the doorframe.

"They sedated him. He asked me why he was going off-line," she sighed. "I didn't know what to tell him. Dr. Fernandez wants a psychiatrist to examine him tomorrow.''

"Well, they won't get the chance. We're taking Michael and KITT back to the Foundation as soon as possible." Devon stood up and straightened his jacket. "Whatever happened out there, I want to get to the bottom of it!"

"Just a minute, Mr. Miles," Davilla said, standing also. "What about Jorge Dominguez?"

"Officer, we haven't forgotten about him," Devon said politely, but firmly. "We'll see this case through even if I have to finish it myself. Right now, Michael is my main concern and takes temporary priority."

"I'll call the Foundation and alert Dr. Alpert," April said and turned to leave.

"No, I'll handle that after I talk with Dr. Fernandez. Danny and the mobile unit will be arriving shortly. Why don't you go to police impound and check on KITT, see if any damage was sustained from whatever it was that hit him," Devon said, eyeing the patrolman. "This is a slight set-back, officer. I estimate we can resume the investigation in--about two days."

Davilla gave a slight nod. "Okay."

April looked up at the tall man. "Shall we go?"

"Sure," he said and silently they left the waiting -room.

Devon watched them go, praying that KITT still had an ounce of power left in him to give a logical explanation to all this. "UFO! Really!" Devon muttered. He just couldn't believe it. He also couldn't believe that Michael would crack up like this. He shook his head and went to look for Dr. Fernandez.

This wasn't at all like Michael. Wilton Knight had searched long and hard to find a man with the specific psychological profile that Michael possessed. Someone who'd made it into the Special Forces deployed in Vietnam, survived prison camp in that country, become a police officer and had risen in rank to become an undercover cop, just didn't break down like that. He recalled the phone conversation he'd had with Officer Davilla earlier in the day. They'd found nothing to indicate foul play, but then tracks could be covered. One thing was found that was highly unusual, as if this already wasn't--some burned creosote bushes near where Michael was found. Had to be KITT's flame-thrower! That was it. Everything had a logical explanation and if you didn't lose your head, you could see it. Still, a deep-down feeling nagged at him. What if it really was true? Quickly, he shoved the thought aside.

"UFO, preposterous!" he said, disappearing down the busy corridor.

"I'm glad you're feeling much better, Michael." Devon said.

KITT/m broke away from his thoughts. "Well, I could have walked out of here, Devon. I'm not an invalid," he said indignantly.

"Whether you like it or not, Mr. Knight," the nurse said, "it's a hospital policy that all patients get an escort when they leave this establishment."

"Yes, you told me that this morning," KITT/m replied. He saw they were approaching the main entrance/exit double-glass doors of the hospital. "But I still could have walked out of here."

"Nonsense, Michael." Devon joined in. "You've just recovered your senses. I must admit you gave us quite a scare last night. Whatever you and KITT encountered in the desert must have been incredible. No matter, I have Dr. Alpert standing by at the Foundation. I still think we should leave immediately on the FLAG jet."

"Devon, you said I could see KITT first."

"Yes, I did," the older man sighed. "Anyway, you're off the case until you've been fully checked by the doctors at the Knight Medical Facility."

"We'll discuss that later," KITT/m said. He was determined to finish this case. It was the chance of his existence and he wasn't going to spend it in the medical wing.

The drastic change from the hospitals antiseptic smell to the warm clean air outside fascinated him. The brightness of the sun glaring down on the southern New Mexico town made him squint. He still couldn't shake his awe at the new perspective he had. He marveled at the way the human body handled the input of sensations, processing them immediately. As the Knight 2000, he handled the information input quickly, but this was fantastic. The sudden thought of his former self reminded him of Michael. "Um, when you retrieved KITT from the impound last night, was he operable?"

"No," Devon answered. "His power cells and hydrogen fuel tanks were completely drained, which is all very odd. With refueling and a recharge, April said he'd be just fine." They stopped at the end of the patient loading/unloading ramp. "Speaking of April, she's a remarkable young woman. As soon as the mobile unit arrived, she started going over KITT immediately. Last time I spoke to her, she said he would be ready to power up early this afternoon." Devon paused and looked out into the parking lot. "She should be here soon."

KITT/m said nothing, but felt like he was a million miles away. He heard the older man's words, but his thoughts were on Michael and how he was going to convince Devon to let them finish the case. He hated pulling this charade, pretending to be fine, but it was the only way he could think of to get out of the hospital and back to his partner. Michael had to be in his CPU, it was the only logical answer. Unless--what if whoever was responsible for this, aliens, robots, or whatever that thing in the desert was, had kept Michael's essence? A twinge of fear nagged at him. If they could transplant an artificial intelligence into a human body-- He didn't want to think about that. Michael had to be in the CPU, he just had to be. KITT needed him now more than ever. Too many things were new to him, freedom to think for himself, the tactile senses and new understandings of emotions he'd never dreamed of.

These new sensations were distracting and in some instances, very frightening. The previous night had proved that point very clearly. He'd never written his own program and never realized how limiting his computer existence was until the mishap (or was it good fortune?) somehow had let him exchange places with Michael. He tried to recall the events of that evening. If he could just remember what had happened, it might give him some clue to Michael's whereabouts.

"Michael?" Devon's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Hmmm, what?" he answered absently.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

KITT/m sighed. "I'm sorry, Devon. I was trying to recall what happened before I woke up last night."

"And--?"

"Nothing." KITT/m shook his head. "It's as if someone wiped my memory of that evening clean."

"You shouldn't try to force yourself, Mr. Knight," the nurse said. "Sometimes the mind protects itself by blocking out bad memories. When you'-re ready, the memory will come back."

"Oh, really?" KITT/m asked earnestly. "That's remarkable!"

"Maybe KITT will have something," Devon suggested.

"I doubt it," he replied, sounding distracted. "While we were being attacked, I distinctly remember him saying his systems were disrupted by some unusual thermomagnetic energy of very high intensity. It measured off the scale."

Devon looked uneasily at his colleague. At that moment, April pulled up in a blue Buick rental car, parking directly in front of the ramp.

"Well, whatever," Devon commented.

April got out of the car, moving around the front of the vehicle. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry I'm a little late! Lunch hour traffic held me up. Been waiting long?"

"Not really, just a few minutes," Devon said, checking his watch.

April shrugged. "Anyway, I told Danny to meet us at the rental agency and called Harrison to let him know we're heading to the airport right away and to have the jet ready."

"Excellent." Devon said. "We'd better be going."

April stooped in front of KITT/m, looking into his intense green eyes. "Hey, I'm glad you're feeling better. For a while, I thought I'd have to change from computer technician to medical technician. You had us pretty worried," she said and laughed, reaching over and squeezing his hand.

"I'm sorry, April, but I was quite shaken up. How's KITT?"

"He'll be fine. There wasn't any damage done, just complete power loss. All interlinking units down to the CPU are intact. By the time we get to the semi, I can power him up. Now, as I've heard you say before--let's blow this joint!"

"I'm for that." Carefully, KITT/m stood up and stepped away from the wheelchair. Janet pulled it back, wished him well, and returned to the building. Smiling inwardly, KITT/m was proud of himself. No one would have guessed that earlier this morning he'd been practicing how to walk. As it turned out, it had been easier than he expected. He realized ' as time passed, he was quickly adjusting to the human form. His eyes were riveted on April. The smart blue pantsuit she wore complemented her lithe form attractively, moving with her as she opened the car door. As KITT, he couldn't really grasp the concept of appreciating the female physique, but he was beginning to understand what Michael had been telling him for the past two years.

"Well, are you going to just stand there?" she asked pointedly.

"Oh, thank you," KITT/m responded, feeling a little foolish. Devon helped him to the car and he sat down in the backseat. He looked around, studying the interior, running his fingers over the velveteen seat covers. The door snapped shut and he looked at the padded paneling. "How droll! At least my interior is in much better taste." He glanced at the two outside the car, their words filtering in to him.

"Did you notice it, too?" Devon asked as he moved to the driver's side.

"How could I miss?" April answered and reached for the right front door handle. She paused and gave Devon a concerned look. "His manners are different all the way down to his speech pattern. And I never thought I'd ever see him in a suit."

"I know. I was rather shocked when he requested I bring him one."

"You don't think--?"

"I don't know what to think." Devon said. "Let's go."

They entered the car and Devon started it, pulling away from the hospital.

KITT/m stared out the window as they traveled. This was a first. A car was actually taking him somewhere. It felt odd. He was used to being the one who navigated or anticipated turns, stops and such, but being a passenger was enjoyable, once he got used to it. Devon and April were discussing something, but he wasn't paying attention. Instead, he focused his thoughts on Michael. He had to find out if his partner was safe inside his CPU. If so, the next step would be alerting him to the situation and telling him to go along with the masquerade. He glanced at the com-link on his wrist; it was useless until Michael could be powered up.

"Michael?" a female voice asked. He looked up to see April staring at him from over the front seat.

"What? Were you talking to me?"

"Yes, we were." Devon said. "Are you all right? This is the second time this has happened. It's like you're someplace else."

"In a way, I guess I am." KITT/m responded languidly.

April shot a worried glance at her boss. "We wanted to know if you had picked up any leads in Jorge's case."

"Yes, we had. That's why we were out along Highway 180. We had just turned around to go back to Sat-Trak and that thing hit us."

"Is that what's troubling you? Your memory loss?" Devon asked.

"Some of its" KITT/m said, and looked back out the window.

No one spoke, and a short time later they pulled up at the car rental agency. The huge black semi with the gold knight chess piece emblazoned on its side panels stood at the curbside. KITT/m walked over to the truck with Devon just ahead of him. As the older man moved to the side entrance, out of habit KITT/m gravitated to the rear gate. Devon looked at him curiously.

"Michael? Are you coming?"

Startled, the younger man looked up. "Oh, yes. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." He walked over to Devon " who waited patiently beside the open side entrance. The Englishman shook his head and climbed up the steps, with KITT/m following Tight behind him. You're really doing great, he chided himself. And you hope to convince this man to let you finish-this case?

Once inside the workshop/office area, KITT/m saw his sleek black body. Cables and hoses trailed from underneath the raised hood as compact generators hummed like bees, feeding energy to the Knight 2000's power cells. For a moment, he stared uneasily at his former self, and then smiled in a bout of vanity as he marveled at how handsome he really was. "Is he ready?" he asked anxiously.

"April will be along in a moment." Devon said and looked over some papers she had left for him on the desk. "Why don't you take it easy until we get to the airport. You can use the sleeper, if you'd like."

"Devon, I've been lying down for most of my--er, the last twenty-four hours, I'd rather wait here, thank you."

"Very well," the older man agreed reluctantly, keeping a wary eye on his colleague. As they waited for April to return, K17T/m took the opportunity to look over the mobile unit. Carefully, he touched things, studying the way they operated. As a computer, operating other machinery had been easy, but now it required manual dexterity. He settled at the CRT and began pulling up diagnostic patterns on himself and the readings April had obtained the night before. He watched the screen as comparisons of his old self and Michael's profile appeared. The Knight 2000's CPU and integrated circuits' electro-patterns matched Michael's EEG. He relaxed visibly; relieved to know his partner was definitely inside.

"All set." April said as she entered the trailer, the door automatically closing behind her. The muted sound of the semi's powerful engine resounded inside the trailer and the motion of the rig pulling onto the road was almost undetectable.

"Let me make one last check before I power him up." April moved quickly to the chair KITT/m had just vacated. She put on her glasses, briefly scanned the screen and frowned. "A few more minutes," she announced. She swiveled to face the tall man looking over her shoulder. "Michael, if you'd like to rest--"

"I've already offered him the sleeper," Devon interrupted.

"Thank you," KITT/m said, "but I'd rather remain here. I want to be sure he's all right." He indicated the black car. He stared at the computer console behind her and an idea struck him. "Are you finished with the computer?"

"Yes," April responded.

"Do you mind if I use your terminal?"

"No, go ahead," April said curiously as she stood up. What do you need? I can log on any system for you.

"No, thank you, I can do it," he said and sat back down at the console, immediately starting in at the keyboard.

April looked at Devon with wide eyes. "Um, Devon, I have something I want to show you inside KITT." The younger man's head snapped up at the mention of his name, "Nothing to worry about, it's something I've added." she continued calmly.

"Of course." Devon said, going over to the Knight 2000 and he and the computer technician climbed inside. KITT/m looked over to them, then carefully reached over and switched on the audio pick-up inside the car. He continued his task, listening as he worked.

"He doesn't know how to do that." April's hushed tone came over the speaker. "And that CRT had KITT's diagnostic diagrams on it before I even touched the keyboard. I know I logged it off before I left to pick you two up."

"I saw him retrieve it," Devon said in a whisper. "I was just as surprised as you are to see him do it."

"But that's just it, he can't He doesn't understand computers enough to crack codes. Oh, he knows how to operate KITT, but I have to give him the numbers. Devon, he's different. Something did happen to them!"

''That's obvious," Devon replied, eyebrows rising. "But what? Do you think they've actually traded places?"

"Well, I know it's unbelievable, but KITT isn't an ordinary computer. He's the closest thing to a living brain man has ever constructed.''

"I know, but KITT is still a machine."

"Yes, but his logic/action processes are similar to our brain functions. That diagram and pattern screening he retrieved isn't the same one KITT had when he left the Foundation. He ran a match and the current pattern in the CPU is exactly the same as Michael's. It's unbelievable, but I think he's telling the truth."

Devon looked incredulous. "But that's impossible. If this were a question of human to human, I'd be more inclined to believe it. But we're talking about human to machine switching identities." Devon said. "I can't believe this any more than I can believe in the Tooth Fairy. I think he's up to something," he said evenly. "Power KITT up now. If this is a hoax, he'll tell us."

April nodded and they got out of the car.

"That's quite impressive, April," Devon said casually, as if the technician had really pointed out something new. "I'm sure it'll be a great improvement."

KITT/m looked up and hit the function key to save the input, clearing the screen as Devon moved over to him and looked over his shoulder.

"He's ready," Devon said, smiling down at his colleague.

"Good," KITT/m said, and swiveled to face the older man.

Devon looked from him to April and cleared his throat. "Any time now."

April quickly went through the power-up procedure and one by one the Knight 2000's systems activated. Touch-tone sounds mixed with the hum of energy, indicating complete system reactivation. Silently, KITT/m pressed the send key on the CRT board.

"What the hell!" came a surprised-sounding voice from KITT's interior. 'What's going on? Where am I? Oh my God, I can't see! My body--I can't feel anything!" Panic resounded in the computer's voice.

KITT/m pushed past a startled April, going over to the Knight 2000 in seconds. Mentally, he kicked himself. He should have anticipated this. The former human would have no sensations at all. Just as the sudden influx of tactile information had confused him, the lack of it had frightened 14ichael. This could blow his whole plan. He slid into the pilot seat, bending low. "Engage your sensory assimilators now! Integrate your systems and your senses will return!"

"Oh my God!" April gasped in alarm as she moved from the diagnostic receiver to the car. "His systems aren't in sync!" Almost immediately, she too was inside the Knight 2000, ready to manually initiate the sequences. KITT/m grabbed her hand and shook his head.

Blankly she looked at him. "What are you doing? If I don't get him in line, he could overload!"

"April, Michael, what's wrong?" Devon asked worriedly as he looked inside the car.

"Let him do it," KITT/m said calmly. "He can and will bring himself into sync on his own."

"What--?"

'Sensory assimilators--" The voice wavered and grew fuzzy. "Sequences--?"

"Slow yourself down, concentrate. It's as easy as thinking. Just concentrate on your functions." KITT/m urged in a soft voice. "Make them fall in line."

"KITT." April said. "Is there a malfunction? Can you pinpoint the trouble?"

"KITT?" The voice sounded like a 45 Record played at 33 1/3. "You called me--KITT. Why?"

"Because that's who you are!" KITT/m said tersely. "Come on, you have a CPU, use it! Do like you always have, just think! Integrate!"

Wordlessly, Devon and April looked from the car to the young man. Minutes passed and slowly the systems and CPIJ fell in line with each other. April displayed a new energy level reading, showing the stabilizing of the systems. The dashboard function lights grew brighter and KITT/m slumped back into the car seat with a sigh of relief. "I knew you could do it! Is that better?"

"Yes, much better!" The vox-box flashed in response to a normal-sounding voice.

Open-mouthed, April looked at the super dash, then to KITT/m. "What in--?"

"Oh my God! This is a dream! This has got to be a dream! No, I take that back--this is a nightmare!"

"KITT, open your communication line to the mobile unit and engage your self diagnostic system. April will want a comparison reading to be sure you're all right." He mentally crossed his fingers, hoping Michael would get the message he'd sent.

"Everything is not all right! I'm not KITT, I'm Michael and I'm talking to myself with your voice in a crazy dream! Oh, this is a good one. I'll have to tell Devon I need a vacation after we finish this case. First I dream of a UFO and now I turn into a car. Tell me, if I'm really inside this thing--then KITT has to be me, right?"

KITT/m now knew the meaning of exasperation. He sat, eyes closed, hand covering his face. He knew Michael hadn't received his message because he hadn't known how to interpret it, so it was now useless to carry on the pretense. "Yes, Michael, I'm KITT and this isn't a dream. It's real," he answered in a monotone.

A surprising peal of laughter came from the vox-box. "Oh, sure! If this is real, then I'm a monkey's uncle!"

"Well, according to the evolutionary tree, Michael, you do have primates in your background."

The voice stopped and the LED bars went dark. He remained silent for a moment. "This isn't a dream?"

"This is real, Michael."

"Did you say real?"

"Yes, real as in reality."

"That's impossible."

"That's what Devon said." KITT/m looked up from the vox-box to the Englishman. Shocked, Devon opened his mouth to speak, but KITT/m cut him off. "I turned on the audio pick-up in my cab and heard your conversation. My guess is that you'll have to start believing in the Tooth Fairy, Devon, because this is real."

'That thing we encountered in the desert did this to us?"

"Somehow! I don't comprehend the means, but it happened."

"This is preposterous! You've both lost your minds," Devon said, going over to the desk and picking up the cordless phone. "I'm calling Dr. Alpert."

Instantly, KITT/m was out of the car and at the desk, pulling the receiver away from Devon. Stubbornly, the Englishman hung onto it, looking KITT/m in the eye.

"Devon, no! Dr. Alpert can't help us.''

"He might know a good psychiatrist!"

"Hear us out. I wouldn't believe it either if I were myself, but I'm not. I am KITT and Michael is where I should be. You might as well make yourselves comfortable--we have quite a tale to tell you." He motioned to April who was standing beside the Knight 2000 in shocked silence.

Several minutes later, Devon sat shaking his head in disbelief as KITT and Michael related their tale. April's face was unreadable as she, too, listened.

"--And that's apparently what happened," KITT/m said as he leaned against the car.

"Well, that's quite a story, Michael--er, KITT," Devon said skeptically. "And if that's the case, neither of you should resume the investigation."

"But, Devon," KITT/m pleaded, "we've got to finish this. We've got leads to follow up before they get cold. Every minute we lose gives Jorge's enemies the advantage. His life is at stake."

"No, absolutely not," Devon said firmly. "April and I can continue the investigation on our own. Right now, we need to get you two back to the Foundation for a complete examination."

"But that would take precious time," KITT/m protested. "We can finish this. We may have traded places, but we're still effective as a team. Please, Devon."

"I don't think that would be wise ... KITT. What if you were to revert back to normal at the wrong time? No, I couldn't risk it, for you two or Jorge Dominguez."

"It's not like we're going to explode, for heaven's sake. We're in fine shape considering the circumstances," KITT/m said defensively.

"KITT," April said, leaning forward, "you're not used to this form. Things will easily distract you, and think of--Michael," she said, gesturing at the car. "He's in the same predicament as you."

"Brother, is that an understatement." Michael/k retorted.

KITT/m turned to his partner. "But we could do it! We may have a lead on who's behind this frame-up on Jorge. If we let Rodriguez get away now, Jorge is as good as lost."

"KITT has a point, Devon."

"See?"

"I see nothing but a very human stubborn streak." Devon answered. "The answer is still no," he said sternly.

KITT/m glanced down at the floor and then at the Knight 2000. He had t o come up with a valid reason or he and Michael were going to be spending a lot of time undergoing tests instead of hitting the streets. He thought about the 'secret' conversation Devon and April had had and an idea struck him.

"Well KITT, old buddy," he announced loudly, "I guess our charade worked. If we can fool our closest friends, I guess we can fool the crooks. Don't you agree, partner?"

"What?" Michael/k asked, perplexed.

April and Devon looked stunned.

"You mean this was a hoax all the time?" Devon sputtered.
"And the hospital scene?" April asked sharply.

"Yep, all pretend. Thanks buddy. If you hadn't given me those codes I don't think I could've been very convincing."

"Uh, sure. Don't mention it ... Michael."

If looks could kill, Devon's expression right then was positively murderous. "Of all the infuriating things! Why, man? What possible reason could you have for pulling something like this?"

"I have my reasons, but I can't reveal them right now," KITT/m said as he moved to the driver's side of the Knight 2000. "Um--April, if you don't mind?" He pointed to the hoses and cables still attached to the car. "We need to get going," he said, and jumped inside the vehicle as April quickly detached the power feeds and diagnostic leads. "Let me drive," he whispered to his partner.

"Do you know how?"

"Better than you do right now. Trust me!" He keyed the ignition and the turbine engine fired up, the familiar hiss filling the semi-trailer. April closed the hood end stood back

"All clear," she stated evenly. "And when you get back, you'd better have a good explanation for all this!"

Slowly the ramp began its descent. KITT/m eyed it anxiously, wishing it would move faster.

"Just a minute!" Devon said, hurrying to the side of the car. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Las Vegas!" he shouted and backed out of the trailer, tires screeching as they hit the pavement.

"Las Vegas!" Devon echoed, flabbergasted. "Come back here!" he demanded, "I thought--"

But it was too late. KITT/m waved as they accelerated past the semi.

"You've done very well," he said as he stared at the picture of a pretty brunette woman. "Bonnie Barstow. I wonder how she's doing?"

"Last I heard, she was finishing up some courses at the University at San Francisco," Michael/k commented. "Why, of all profiles, did you have me pull that one?"

"I don't know," KITT/m said with a shrug. "I was just thinking of her and wondered what she'd say if she knew what had happened to us,"

"More than what April said, I can guarantee that. Is there anything else you wish--master?" Michael/k asked dramatically.

KITT/m opened the manual and flipped through the pages, checking off several of the things he had already had Michael run through and practice. "Let's see, we've done surveillance modes, microwave manipulation, pursuit, data processing and search, analysis, navigation and auto pilot--" he said and snapped the book shut. "Frankly, there's nothing you can't do."

"Oh yes there is."

"What? Have we left something out?" Quickly he looked over the list again.

"Well, it has nothing to do with the manual. It has to do with the opposite sex."

"Michael, really! Is that all you can think of at a time like this?"

"Only when I wonder if this change is permanent." There was a moment of awkward silence. "You're wondering too."

"Yes," KITT/m answered softly. "I've been trying to recall what happened in the desert and all I come up with is a blank," he said. "I've been putting off asking you about that until I was sure you were accustomed to my CPU." KITT/m paused again. "Do you remember anything?"

Michael/k hesitated before answering. "It's--bits-and pieces. Like flashes of memory," he said. "I remember you lost power and I freaked out. I couldn't get out of the car. Then, there was sound--real high pitched, and lights--bright lights. Then...nothing.

"I was afraid of that. Do you remember the sensation of pain at any time?"

"Yes! And a floating feeling," Michael/k said excitedly. "But how could is happen? I mean, I'm human and you're a-"

"Machine. An artificial intelligence with no soul, right?" KITT/m asked seriously. "But what is a soul? What makes you you? What makes me what I am? There's insufficient data for an accurate answer and the only fact we have is that we know it happened, because we're living proof. Only time will toll if this is permanent." KITT/m looked out the window. "I've got to admit this is quite different from what I'd imagined."

"You're telling me! I never thought about how confined you really were. How can you stand it in here? This is so-limiting!"

"It's the only existence I ever knew. I always tended to think of my CPU component housing as...home," KITT/m answered, leaning back in the soft driver's seat, and smiled. "I never dreamed of such freedom. This is really a pleasant change."

"What are you getting at?" Michael/k asked pointedly.

"Well, for once you're taking me somewhere,"

"Very funny, don't you think we should be doing some homework on the case we're attempting to solve, or are you just going to sit there and enjoy yourself?"

"I'd rather enjoy myself, but you're right. Here's a chance for you to practice. Retrieve all the information we have on Jorge so we can review the facts. This should be easy since all you have to do is--"

"I can do it, thank you."

"Very well," KITT/m replied, He waited for his partner to search, glancing at the com-link chronometer to time him.

"Wow, the Foundation files are really complete. It says that Jorge is a law student at the University of Nevada. He lives with his brother and sister-in-law at 1002 Center Street. Brother's name is Pedro Dominguez, age 32. Sister-in-law's name is Joaquina, age 29. Jorge's brother has been in the United States for a year and a half, a naturalized citizen because he married an American. He's a construction worker. She's a teacher. They have no children."

"Hmm, if I remember correctly, didn't Jorge say that Mr. and Mrs. Dominguez had gone to Matamoros to join him and his late sister?"

"Yes, he did. Do you think he gave them the book?'

"It's a possibility. I think we should start with a visit to his relatives. Who knows, maybe they could give us a lead on Rodriguez." KITT/m steepled his fingers and thought a moment. "Have you gotten any clues to Rodriguez's location? I remember when I ran the check two days ago, Rodriguez had taken his private plane to Las Vegas."

"As a matter of fact, I'm checking right now," Michael/k replied lightly. "Being a computer has its advantages. Now I can understand what it's like to be doing several things at one time and not feel pressured. Ah-ha! Bingo! A J. Rodriguez and R. Ortega are registered at the MGM-Grand on the Vegas strip. Talk about being bold."

"It's interesting that he would be in Las Vegas about the time Jorge was to return home."

Yeah, very interesting," Michael/k said. "KITT, I'm picking up something. Something organic is blocking the road ahead

KITT/m looked up in time to see several head of cattle crossing the road directly in front of them. Cowboys on horses were trying to get his attention, but it was too late to stop. "Evasive action! Michael, turbo-boost."

'Where is it?" Michael/k shouted.

KITT/m frantically searched the console for the initiate button, finding it at the last second. The aerodynamic car lifted from the road as small thruster jets in the rear kicked in. The Knight 2000 sailed in a graceful arc over the spooked cattle as the cowboys stared dumbly at what they had just witnessed. The car landed with a bone-jolting thud, tires screeching on the hot pavement, and continued down the highway.

"That was close!" KITT/m twisted in the seat to look behind them, then turned back to his partner. "How come you weren't paying attention?" he snapped irritably. "That could have been disastrously.

"Hey! The driver's supposed to help out, too. I'm just learning how to do this stuff, ya know," Michael/k retorted hotly.

"You'd better learn fast. If we're going to finish this case, you have to be alert to all possible dangers. Is that clear?" he shot back.

'Get off my case! I'm new at this. You've been doing this ever since you--"

"That will be enough, Michael," KITT/m said sternly.

"Don't you take that tone with me."

"No, don't you take that tone with met I'm in charge and you're taking orders --remember?"

'Yeah, loud and clear, Herr Commandant!"

"And don't get smart, either." KITT/m said, frowning as he looked at the vox-box. Michael/k remained silent and after a few moments KITT/m leaned back in his seat. "Now, we can consider ourselves even." he said smugly.

"What?' his partner asked, puzzled.

"I was just recalling the first time we worked together and you told me rather pointedly several times to shut up!"

"Yeah? So?"

"So--shut up!" KITT/m said curtly. Again, several moments passed in silence. KITT/m watched the LED screen and smiled when it remained dark and quiet.

"You're enjoying this situation, aren't you?' Michael/k said finally.

"You bet I am!" he replied and reached down to hit the normal cruise button. "I must say, being inside myself during a turbo-boost is a rather exhilarating feeling."

"It's something on this end, too. I wasn't too crazy to see the pavement coming at me--but that aside, it wasn't too bad."

"Really? I was never concerned about that. As a matter of fact, I never even thought about it. I never thought about a lot of things. What awes me are all these sensations you humans have. This is excellent."

"Well, take advantage of it while you can, buddy. Tomorrow morning we might wake up and be back to our old selves--I hope."

KITT/m's smile disappeared. "Yes," he answered softly. "I hope so, too." The truth was, he really liked his new point of view and he hoped just the opposite. He bit his lower lip and stared at the road ahead. But that wasn't right I He didn't have the rights to the body he now wore; it belonged to Michael. Feelings of guilt seized him and he was ashamed of his thoughts. He didn't know if the change was permanent or if it would wear off or what. He didn't even want to think about it.

"You're awfully quiet A penny for your thoughts."

"My thoughts, as they say, aren't worth a wooden nickel right now."

"Oh?" Michael/k asked, "Well, there's no need for you to brood. If something's bothering you, you can tell me."

"It's nothing," KITT/m said with a half-smile. "Nothing to be concerned about." They continued up Highway 93, passing a sign that announced Las Vegas was 125 miles away.

By evening, the Knight 2000 entered the Las Vegas city limits. KITT/m took note of the-bright lights and dark mountains in the distance. As a computer, he could appreciate beauty and sights, but this gave a whole new meaning to the word 'appreciate.' The soft strains of a Chopin waltz added a touch of lightness to his mood.

"KITT, can I cut this long-hair garbage now that we've arrived in the city?"

"Hmm, oh yes," KITT/m answered, snapping from his reverie. "I trust you've located Dominguez's residence?"

"Yes, I've plotted a course and we're heading there now. We should be there in a few minutes so put on your Sherlock Holmes hat and remember, be subtle and get as much information as you can."

"Michael," KITT/m said, sounding wounded, "I know the procedure."

"You'd better!"

The two diverted into a suburb on the outskirts of town and cruised down a half-empty street. There were few houses in the area as it was a new development. It wasn't long before they arrived at the address listed on Jorge's file. The house was dark, all except for some lights in the rear. The Knight 2000's tires crunched the gravel driveway as they came to a stop. "I wonder if they're still awaken

"Well, just give it the old college try."

"Michael, at least I help you out in times like this. Can you read any movement or detect any life forms inside?"

"Oh, sorry, I forgot myself. As a matter of fact, the people inside are still awake. Someone's on the phone right now."

"Tap into it. Now, keep alert." KITT/m got out of the car and proceeded to the front door.

The red sensor lights whipped back and forth as Michael/k engaged the sensors taking readings of KITT/m's every move. Across the street, the dark silhouette of a man sitting in a parked car turned slightly and raised binoculars to his eyes.

KITT/m rang the doorbell, then knocked, but got no response. He jiggled the handle, calling out, but still no one answered. Quickly, he raised the com-link and contacted his partner.

"Michael, open the door."

"Are you sure you want to do it this way?"

"Yes," KITT/m said. "Something's wrong--" He turned to the door just as it opened. A dark-haired, petite woman in her late twenties looked timidly through the crack. KITT/m flashed a smile, quickly lowering the com-link. "Mrs. Dominguez? I'm Michael Knight from the Foundation for Law and Government. I'm sorry to be calling at this hour, but I'm investigating Jorge's case and I really need to speak with you."

"Right now?" she asked; her English held a slight Spanish accent. "We are very tired and--"

"I'm sorry," KITT/m interrupted her, "but this really can't wait."

"You don't understand. We can't talk to anybody," she said nervously and closed the door in his face.

"Definitely not cooperative." He shook his head and went back to the Knight 2000 and got behind the wheel. "Back to square one."

"I suggest we attack from the rear."

"What?"

"Let's go around the block. I'll let you out and you approach the back of the house. The reason Mrs. Dominguez was so shy is that Le Mans sitting across the street. There's a big ugly goon behind the wheel and he's been watching our every move. It's obvious that someone is threatening the Dominguezs and I'll bet it's Rodriguez. So If that bozo doesn't see you enter the house, he'll think they're keeping their mouths shut, and he'll have nothing to report to his boss."

"Good idea. That's just what Starsky and Hutch would do."

"Yeah, and they got canceled, too. I don't want that happening to us."

"I'll be careful. I wish you had more confidence in me," KITT/m said as they backed out of the driveway. Michael/k killed the headlights as they circled the block, stopping in front of a house under construction. Quietly, KITT/m got out and looked across the lot at his target. The shadows were deep as there were no street or yard lights in the area. Only the moon and faint light from the Dominguez house offered him any guidance.

"I'll go find a nice cozy spot to park, and you get over to their house. Just remember to take extra care. Bullets don't bounce off my hide like they do yours."

KITT/m sighed. "I'll be careful, I promise." He pushed the door shut and slunk into the darkness, heading toward the Dominguez' house. Silently, he crept up to the back door where he heard voices coming from what he figured was the kitchen. He leaned against the door and listened.

"Joaquina, dear God in heaven," a male voice said. "Why did you send that man away? If he was from the Foundation, he probably had news on Jorge."

"Pedro, one of Rodriguez's men is across the street. They're watching us and will keep doing so until they get what they want," the woman replied. "And surely by now they know Jorge's stuck in Deming on drug charges. Arrested for drugs that they placed in his car," she finished angrily.

"I know, and that's what's so maddening. We are acting like cowards," Pedro said. "We've got to do something."

"But we can't. We don't have what they want and even if we did, giving it to them would only assure our deaths."

KITT/m tried the door, finding it locked. Quietly, he tapped on the window and the voices were instantly silent. Lightly he rapped again and the curtain was pulled aside; a man's face appeared, and then disappeared. Soon the back door opened slightly and the man peered out.

"Who are you?" he asked warily.

"I'm Michael Knight from the Foundation," he whispered. "I know about-the man out front, but it's imperative that I speak with you."

Slowly the man opened the door wider, and lowered the pistol he had in the other hand. "Very well, come in."

"I apologize for this clandestine meeting, but obviously there're some new developments in this situation," KITT/m said as he entered the brightly decorated kitchen. The aroma of chicken and rice hit him and he realized he hadn't eaten anything since early morning. He turned to face the wiry Mexican gentleman. "I heard most of your conversation- and I have reason to believe-"

"Wait a minute," Pedro said suspiciously. "How do we know you are from the Foundation? You could be working for Rodriguez."

"I can show you identification " but then that could be forged. Or you could call the Foundation for verification or you could just outright trust me," he said evenly. Pedro and Joaquina regarded him with silent caution. "Listen, I've just arrived from Deming. Jorge faces a grand jury in a few days and that leaves me little time to get what I need to prove he's innocent. I was hoping you could help me. "

"I wish we could, Mr. Knight," Pedro said "but we can't even help ourselves." Anger and f ear showed in the set jaw and narrowed eyes of the tall s1im man who held his wife close. "The item Rodriguez wants is not in this house. We never even heard of this--book, until Rodriguez came here two days ago."

"Do you know why he wants the book so badly?" KITT/m asked.

"No," Joaquina answered. "But they tore up my house looking for it."

"This is all Rosa's fault!" Pedro spat.

"Pedro! Have respect for your dead sister." his wife admonished.

"But it's true. We are being punished for her sins and we must face what's coming. That book, wherever it is, will eventually fall into Rodriguez's hands and when it does we are all dead." Pedro turned away. "I beg you to take leave now. It is not safe for you here and I do not wish to have your blood on my conscious as well."

"You've told me more than you realize, Mr. Dominguez," KITT/m said. "Jorge said for you not to worry about him and he's doing well considering the pressure he's under right now."

Joaquina looked up. "Mr. Knight, are you going back to Deming soon?"

"In a day or two," KITT/m answered.

"Just a moment, please." The woman disappeared into another room and in moments came back with a small, cloth-wrapped package. "Would you take this to him? It's his confirmation Bible. I'm sure he'd want this right now."

"Certainly," KITT/m said, and took the package from her. "I'll keep in touch."

A loud banging at the front door startled the three.

"Dominguez, open up!" a deep voice with a thick Spanish accent shouted.

"Quick! Get out of here," Pedro hissed and pushed KITT/m to the door. "Joaquina, get in the bedroom, now!"

KITT/m practically flew out the back door into the yard, heading for the next street over. "Michael, come and--"

'"Stop!" a sinister voice commanded.

KITT/m froze at the sound of a gun hammer clicking back into place.

"I'm glad Orlando called me. I would have hated to miss this party. If you make any false moves, Mr. Knight, they'll be your last." A short dark-haired man emerged from the shadows, going over to where KITT/m stood at the edge of the lawn. III see you have a package. Give it to me--carefully."

"Of course, reading the scriptures can be very enlightening," KITT/m commented as he slowly turned to face the little man. The pale moonlight emphasized the man's sharp features, giving him an evil look.

"Mr. Ortega, I've seen your picture. You don't do it justice."

Ortega yanked the book from KITT/m's hand and scowled.

"It's not what you're looking for. It's just a Bible," KIIT/m said calmly.

"So you know about our book," Rafael said. "How much more do you know?" He raised the blue-steel revolver higher.

"It's not what you want, Ortega!" Pedro's voice came from the back of the house. KITT/m looked up to see the kitchen light glow around the silhouette of Dominguez and a big muscleman standing behind him. "Mr. Knight is telling the truth. He came here to deliver news on Jorge and to get his Bible."

"By the way of the back door? No, I think this man is more than a courier of a Bible. Juan Rodriguez will want to talk with you--Mr. Knight." He jabbed the cold muzzle in KITT/m's midriff. "Now, you'll accompany us and no one will be harmed, including Pedro and his pretty wife, understand?"

"Understood," KITT/m replied. "But I want you to know, these people didn't betray any of your orders. I came here on my own."

"That is good. Fortunately for them, we need them alive right now. Orlando, stay here and make sure Pedro and Joaquina behave, while I escort Mr. Knight to our car," the little man ordered, his eyes and aim never leaving KITT/m. "Now move!" he said, using the gun to prod the taller man forward toward the front of the house. "And keep your hands where I can see them."

KITT/m complied, walking a pace ahead of Ortega. As they reached the front of the house, an approaching car could be heard but not seen. KITT/m turned his head slightly to glance at Ortega as they walked across the front lawn. He knew the sounds of his own engine and the timing had to be right. Just as they reached the center of the street, two blazing headlamps flooded the area in dazzling light.

"This is the police! Drop your weapons!" a voice echoed over a public address system.

KITT/m took his cue and whirled, landing a solid right cross to Rafael's jaw like he'd seen Michael do so many times. The man went reeling backwards, dropping the bundle. Taking advantage of the confusion, KITT/m scooped it up and sprinted for the black car.

"Ignacio!" Ortega yelled, scrambling to his feet. "Get him!"

The driver of the car was already out of the vehicle, gun drawn. He aimed and opened fire at the running man's back. The Knight 2000 shot forward " closing the distance between him and KITT/m, swerving to block the oncoming bullets as the man dove behind its protective body. Lead sang hotly through the night air, bouncing off the black car in showers of orange sparks. The door popped open and KITT/m crouched as he climbed in, book in hand. Michael/k threw the gearshift in reverse, peeling back into a 180-degree turn. Tires smoking, he shot forward, heading out of the residential neighborhood.

"I thought I told you to be subtle."

"I was." KITT/m breathed heavily, and rubbed his aching right hand. "Evidently those brutes have interior surveillance devices planted in the Dominguezs' house." He glanced in the side-view mirror where two headlights had appeared. "Is that--?"

"Yes, it's them."

"We've got to go back. The Dominguezs' lives may be in jeopardy."

"I've taken care of that. I called the LVPD and they're on their way,' Michael/k said. "KIT'T, are you all right? Your vital signs are really elevated."

"I'm fine--I think," he replied and looked at the package lying on the passenger seat. "I could have been injured back thereof' he said, dazed.

'No kidding!" Michael/k answered hotly. "Hold on--I'm gonna lose those turkeys on our tail."

"Turkeys?"

"Never mind, I'll explain later. Just hold tight."

The Knight 2000 shot forward as its boosters added extra thrust to their speed and the headlights of the pursuing car disappeared in the distance.

Rafael sat calmly on the velveteen sofa, his face a stone mask. This outraged Rodriguez even more. How could this man sit so cool and relaxed when this entire venture hinged on recovering that book? The younger man looked at him, his dark eyes narrowed to slits.

"And I won't fail you this time." He studied his fingernails briefly, and then stared at his boss. "This is a temporary set-back. We'll find this Michael Knight and put him in his place."

"What if he has the book?" Rodriguez said contemptuously. "It will be finished. All our plans will have been a waste." He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"I'm sure it wasn't that. It was soft bound and too thick to be the book," Rafael said, shifting slightly on the couch. "It's amazing that you're so upset at me when it's your own fault the damn thing disappeared."

If looks could kill, Rodriguez would have committed murder right then. "Watch your tongue!" he said dangerously. "That thing has contact numbers, names of places and dealers--the whole outline of the plan. If Knight drags me down with this, I promise you'll go with me, my friend." He stopped at the bar long enough to pour himself a straight scotch, then turned back to Ortega. Still the man showed no concern over this new development. "I want to be sure that wasn't the book. Squeeze the Dominguezs. Threaten them! I want that book back!"

"We can't use them anymore," Rafael said placidly. "The cops came while we were chasing Knight. By the time we got back to their house, they were gone. We've lost them as a lever."

Rodriguez nearly choked on his drink as he slammed the glass on the polished countertop. "What other good news do you bring me tonight?" he asked sarcastically. "Who is this Michael Knight and where did he come from?"

"Word has it he's from the Foundation for Law and Government." Rafael answered casually. "Other than that, there is no record of a Michael Knight existing until two years ago."

"So we have no way of finding this man?"

"We'll find him. The Foundation is a--how do the Americans call it?" Ortega snapped his fingers. "A do-gooder association. This outfit is responsible for Jorge's schooling here in the U.S."

"So? That doesn't help us find Knight." Rodriguez sipped at his drink, savoring the burning liquid for a moment before swallowing it. He felt himself relax slightly, but thoughts of the book's possible reappearance kept him on edge. He stared at Rafael harshly.

Rafael sighed in disgust. "I said we'll find him, f have word out on the street and Knight is an easy target to spot. He drives a sharp, black street machine. If he's sighted, we'll know." Ortega stood up and stretched. "It's late. We'd better get some sleep if we're to seal the deal with Senor Frost tomorrow."

"If we're still in business!" Rodriguez said, glowering at the man.

"Dios mio! You worry too much. It wasn't the book, it was a Bible!" Ortega snapped and started for the door.

Rodriguez didn't shout, but his voice held a steel edge, "Rafael, if this is your attitude, you can leave this organization right now."

The younger man froze at the Penthouse door and slowly looked back at his boss.

"And you know what happens to those who retire suddenly," Rodriguez said evenly. "Knight has that book, and he must not, get it to Jorge, or anyone else, comprendes?"

"Si," Rafael said without conviction, but Rodriguez saw the set jaw and the glitter of anger in the younger man's eyes.

"Good. I expect some results by tomorrow," Rodriguez said, and then disappeared into his bedroom.

He rolled over, suddenly waking with a load snort. Abruptly, he sat up. "Wha'?" Bleary-eyed, he looked at his surroundings and lethargically; he reached for the com-link to check the chronometer. "Five thirty-six ante meridian," he sighed. "Michael, are you there?"

"Are you kidding? Where would I go? I've been sitting out here listening to you snore. Anyway, I'm glad you're awake. Why don't you go take care of the bodily function, shower and shave and we can plan our next move."

"Sure," KITT/m groaned as he got out of bed, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. "Why do I feel so peculiar? I thought the purpose of sleep was to recharge and refresh the body." He stretched and staggered to the bathroom. "Don't go away. I'll be right back."

"You're a real laugh-riot, buddy. As long as I'm trapped in your CPU, do you think 1'd let my body outta my sight? Now get going or I'll get breakfast without you."

KITT/m chuckled softy and disappeared into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he emerged dripping wet and feeling more awake. Quickly, he toweled off and dressed, strapping on the com-link. "Okay, what's next'?" He pulled the heavy curtain aside to peer through the glass as he sat at the small round table near the window. There sat his mechanical body, the red sensor light moving slowly back and forth.

"You need to eat. If I remember right, you haven't eaten since you left the hospital, so I called room service."

"Oh yeah, I'm not used to having to eat. I wondered why I felt so strange last night. Is that what hunger feels like?"

"Yeah, I've felt it worse, though. Room service wasn't too happy when I called, but they'll bring food soon, so hold on," Michael/k responded lightly.

"While you were showering, I've been trying to find out what room Rodriguez has at the MGM-Grand. I can't seem to interface with the hotel's computer. She doesn't like me."

"What?" KITT/m asked, puzzled, then frowned. "Michael, really! Did you engage the embedded code system before you tried?"

"I've tried, but the response I keep getting is 'check format.' I think you have a nice 'format' KITT, but she won't respond to it."

"Will you be serious," KITT/m tried to sound gruff, but couldn't quite manage. Smiling, he glanced at the com-link. "If you're gentle, she just might respond," he chuckled.

"Ha, ha, ha," Michael/k said deliberately. "Just tell me what I'm doing wrong."

Briefly, KITT/m instructed his partner as a knock sounded at the door. Quickly, he ceased communication and went to answer it. "Who is it?"

"Room service," came the muffled female voice in reply.

"Michael?" he questioned.

"She's legit, KITT."

Quietly, he opened the door and there stood a pert blonde woman in a blue-and-white motel uniform, tray in hand. "Here you go, sir," she said, looking curiously into the room.

"Thank you, Miss...."He stooped to look at her nametag. "--Miss Talbott," He took the tray and set it on the small table, Patiently she waited at the door, staring at him.

"Is there anything else you need, Mr. Knight?"

"Um, no, not that I can think of."

"Tip her!" came a muted voice from the com-link.

"What was that, sir?"

"Nothing, just a moment. I almost forgot your gratuity." Quickly, he groped for his wallet, not finding it. "Uh--I must've left it in the bathroom." He left to retrieve it, returning in seconds to see the woman inspecting the room. "Is something the matter?"

"Oh, no," she replied quickly. "But--I could've sworn I heard someone else's voice in here."

"I'm all alone," KITT/m said innocently and handed her a tip.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the bill in her hand. "Wow, thanks! Call me if you need anything else!"

"Certainly," KITT/m said as she left and he closed the door.

'What did you give her?" Michael/k asked suspiciously.

"Twenty dollars."

"'Twenty dollars! KITT," Michael/k moaned.

"Did I do something wrong?"

'No, no--never mind. Just eat your breakfast before it gets cold. We have a busy day ahead of us. I've located the room Rodriguez is staying in. He's on the top floor, penthouse suite. Biggest room in the hotel."

"Very good," KITT/m commented and turned to the covered platter on the tray. He lifted it and the aroma of a Spanish omelette with five strips of crisp bacon assaulted his olfactory senses. Hot black coffee steamed from an insulated beverage pot.

"Hurry up and eat. The smell is making me remember how good food tastes," Michael/k urged. "I ordered a big breakfast because you'll need it. Now the eggs should be done just right. You take the salt and pepper and sprinkle it lightly over the eggs. Leave the bacon alone, it's fine the way it is--'

"Will you stop acting so paternal?" K17T/m huffed. "I know what to do. I've watched you eat hundreds of times and always wondered why you make such a production of the simple act of refueling." He sat down and dug into the food. "Hmmmm,"' he murmured as he chewed. "This is good. Smooth taste, a bit spicy, but good," He took another mouthful and looked out the window to where the Knight 2000 sat, the red sensor light moving one increment at a time, back and forth. "Now I know why you look forward to this three times a day," KITT/m commented.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

He scowled. "Sometimes you treat me like a child." He poured a cup of steaming black coffee and put it to his lips.

'No, KITT! Let it--"

The warning came too late as KITT/m took a huge swallow of the scalding liquid. He dropped the cup on the tray, hot coffee spilling everywhere as he groped for 'the glass of ice water.

'--cool off," Michael/k finished lamely.

"Why didn't you warn me?" KITT/m rasped, his mouth smarting.

"Well, you did tell me to can it with the parental concern. I thought you knew."

"I'm learning very quickly." He took another gulp of cold water, the burning sensation subsiding. "But your mouth will be a little tender for a while. Augh!"

"Pain is a part of living, buddy, whether it's physical or mental.'

"I hadn't thought about that part of being flesh and blood--until last night. How do you stand this vulnerability?"

"You learn to survive, buddy."

KITT/m sat silently staring about the room, wondering if he'd taken on more than he could handle. April was right. The human world was so fascinating, but distracting, and the possibility of injury was everywhere. He'd never realized how fragile flesh and bone was. Right now, he wasn't so sure he could pull this off, even though be had Michael's help. Certainly this situation must be as disconcerting to Michael as it was to him. After all, it was his body.

KITT/m's eyes rested on Jorge's Bible. He remembered the time when Michael had read him some of the biblical stories and they were wonderful tales of ancient history. He needed something to distract him, so he went over and picked it up. Carefully, he unwrapped it to have a look. The book was an off-white color and the faded gold lettering indicated its many years of use. He flipped it open, scanning through Genesis, Exodus and the following books. He really didn't feel like reading, though. Besides, he did need to eat. He snapped it shut, but it didn't close quite right. The leather cover was loose and it looked like someone had done a hasty repair job. Carefully, he tugged at the corner, ripping the repaired portion open. Underneath, several slips of paper were neatly stashed. He pulled them out, his eyes growing wide as he scanned them.

"KITT, are you all right?"

"Michael, I've found it?"

"Found what? Your wits?"

"Be serious," he said, and grimaced. "I've found Rodriguez's book. Jorge had sewn it inside the book's leather cover. We won't have to confront him after all. We have what we need!"

"On the contrary, we'll need more than that to prove Jorge innocent. We have to get proof that Rodriguez had the coke planted in Jorge's car. Then we can tie all this together and net one big fish."

"Fish?" KITT/m asked, puzzled. "Oh, you mean Rodriguez. I don't understand. We have enough to arrest him now."

"On his doings, yes, but not for Jorge's predicament. We need absolute proof he was responsible. Come on, finish your breakfast. We've gotta go pay a little visit to Rodriguez."

"After what happened last night, you expect me to just walk in and chat with the man?"

"Of course not! We'll just drop by while he's out, look around and leave a bug in his room. What I can't understand is why Rodriguez is still in town. He's got to know what happened to Jorge by now. If I were him, I'd leave town. But he hasn't, so he must have other business in Las Vegas and I think we should find out what it is."

"You may be right," KITT/m said. He closed the book and pocketed the pages he'd removed from it. "Perhaps we should go right now."

"Finish your breakfast first."

"Michael, this is important."

"There's enough time. Eat first. I know how hungry I can get."

Reluctantly, KITT/m went back to the table and sat down. Even though the coffee had soaked everything, he ate, thinking about what was to come. He pushed his reservations aside, building up his courage. He'd seen Michael take risks before and decided he could, too. He finished eating, picked up the Bible and exited the room.

"Michael," he said, slipping behind the controls of the car. "Make a copy of these pages and transmit the information to the Foundation branch here in Las Vegas and send a message to the mobile unit. That way, if anything happens, Devon will have his own text to read and it won't be a new book of the Bible."

His life was falling to pieces around him. Christmas was supposed to be a time of happiness and celebration. Instead, it had turned to sorrow. He remembered the last time he'd seen Rosa alive. She had called him to her apartment in Matamoros. When he got there, she'd acted so strangely, saying she couldn't stand what she'd become and had decided to do something about it. Something to strike back at her lover, Rodriguez. Hope had flared in his heart, but immediately died when he heard what she intended to do. He'd pleaded with her to run away from Mexico, to go to Peru or Spain or somewhere and disappear. He would help her. But she'd said she couldn't. Not with what she knew was going on, and then she'd handed him a small, thin black notebook, telling him that it held the freedom of a small South American nation and the demise of Juan Rodriguez and asked him to guard it for her. Reluctantly, he'd agreed, and tried to question her more, but all she would say was that if Rodriguez knew she'd stolen it, it would be the end of her life. Jorge knew Rodriguez and his organization by reputation and he'd feared for his sister.

The next day, his fears were realized. He'd tried to call Rosa and when she didn't answer, he notified the police. He could still see the image of her naked, blood-covered body when he'd gone back to her apartment. The thought made him shudder. She had been tortured, but all the police would confirm was that she'd died from injuries sustained from what was probably one of her sadistic customers who'd first pumped her full of drugs. Jorge knew it wasn't the truth. He had an idea of who'd actually killed her--Rafael Ortega, better known as El Sapo, Juan Rodriguez's right-hand man. El Sapo meant 'the toad' in Spanish, but the word didn't always refer to the little reptilian creature that haunts doorsteps-and yard lights at night. It was a label that fit Rafael to a T; a despicable little man. Rosa's body had been Ortega's calling card. The Matamoros police had known it, too, but either they hadn't wanted Rodriguez's wrath, or they'd been handsomely paid. But Rodriguez must've pieced together the story and found out who had the book. By that time, Jorge was heading out of Mexico.

"Jorge," April called, slicing into his thoughts. He looked back at her as she stood beside a blue -four-door Buick. "This is the car, unless you'd like to walk to the motel," she said jokingly.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled and backtracked, sliding into the back seat as Devon and April took their places in the front. The car started and soon they were on their way. Jorge slumped down, eyes closed. He was tired, physically and mentally. He thought of the book and all the pain and death it had already caused and wondered what else would happen. Not just to him and his family, but to these people, as well as that small island off the coast of Brazil.

Jorge knew of Isla Bella and its riches of gold and platinum and other precious minerals, but it was held in the grip of a dictator. The book outlined the deal Rodriguez had made with the rebel faction, revealing a schedule of deliveries of weapons and money to support the tyrant's overthrow. As soon as that was done, Rodriguez would claim mining rights. He would also provide advisors to the new government. Even if Jorge burned the book, he would still know the contents and Rodriguez would still be after him. Maybe all this, from the cocaine planted in his car to the UFO, was an elaborate plan to have Jorge locked away for good. Who would listen to a criminal drug-runner who hallucinated an alien sighting? No, Rodriguez wouldn't kill him like he had Rosa, he'd just arrange it so no one would believe a word Jorge said, and then one night, after being deported to a jail in Mexico, he would mysteriously die in his cell. Jorge gave a sarcastic snort and looked out the car window.

"A penny for your thoughts, Jorge," Devon said, glancing in the rearview mirror.

"Huh?" Jorge looked abruptly to the Englishman. "Oh, I was--just thinking about all this. I'm sorry; I'm not very good company right now. I do want to thank you, though, for posting my bail. It seems that I'm more indebted to the Foundation than ever. I promise to repay you as soon as I can."

"Nonsense." April said, turning slightly in her seat. "That's the last thing you should be worrying about. Michael's following up on some leads and if I know him, he'll get to the bottom of this."

"Have you heard from him?" Jorge asked.

"Not since yesterday when he drove off to Las Vegas," Devon answered tightly, "and he should have checked in with us by now."

"Speaking of calling," Jorge said. "I'd better call home, too. Knowing Joaquina, she's probably as worried about me as you are about Michael."

Devon straightened in his seat, looking straight ahead. Color crept into his face and April glanced sideways at her boss, obviously amused.

"Did I say something wrong?" Jorge asked, puzzled.

"No," April said, smiling.

Later they pulled up outside a country-style motel called the Hacienda Inn, and again Jorge followed his mentors inside the building. Soon he was in a cozy, simply decorated room--it was the Ritz compared to his jail cell. A man sat in one of two chairs by the large picture window, quietly reading a magazine. The fellow looked up as the three entered.

"Hello, Danny," Devon said as he placed his briefcase on the bureau. "Have there been any calls?"

Danny stood, tossing the magazine on the double bed nearest him, "As a matter of fact, they're here, Mr. Miles," he said gruffly. "Lots of 'em." He moved to the nightstand to retrieve a small stack of notes beside the phone. Jorge noticed the man wasn't quite as tall as Devon, and was perhaps a little heavier.

"Oh, by the way," Devon said, gesturing toward Danny, "Jorge, this is Danny West, chauffeur of the Foundation's mobile unit. Danny, this is Jorge Dominguez. You two will be roommates for a while."

Danny moved closer. "So, you're the young man the reporters are looking for," he said, shaking the young man's hand.

"Reporters?" Jorge asked as he grasped Danny's hand firmly.

"Yeah, they've been trying to track you down. I told 'em if they bothered me again, I was gonna call a cop," he said with a smile. "There was one important call for you." He flipped through the notes. "Message relayed from your lawyer to call your brother in Vegas." He found the note and handed it to the young man.

Jorge grabbed it, scanning the message. "This isn't their number."

"That's the one he gave me," Danny said with a shrug, and turned to Devon and April. "By the way, we received a message from Michael and KITT. I didn't have time to run it, so it's still waiting in the semi."

"Good, I'll go see what it is," April said and exited the room as Jorge picked up the receiver and hastily dialed.

Soon the soft buzz of a phone ringing somewhere in Las Vegas sounded in his ear. A stranger answered. "Hello, this is Jorge Dominguez. I was given this number to call my brother, Pedro Dominguez. Sure, I'll hold." Puzzled, he waited and soon his brother spoke. "Pedro, it's me," Jorge replied. "I'm fine. What's with this new number?" He paused as his brother explained. "What?" he asked, tensing up. "Are you sure it was El Sapo? Wait, wait, slow down, tell me!" He paused again as Pedro told him what had happened. "He came while Michael was there? Joaquina did what? Why in God's name did she give him my Bible? I told you to keep it until I got home! That's not important now--are you all right? Michael? Did El Sapo get my Bible? Oh, thank God," he said with a sigh of relief. "No, no there's nothing you can do now. Did Michael say when he was returning to Deming? Oh, he didn't. It Jorge listened for a moment before cutting in. "No, no, don't worry about me. I'm just glad you're safe. I'll see you soon--I hope. Goodbye."

Slowly he replaced the receiver in its cradle and stared at his hand resting on it. Suddenly everything fit. If Ortega was in Las Vegas, then Rodriguez was, too. They had been waiting for him. He wished now that he hadn't given his Bible to Pedro to carry back to the States. He was doubly glad they didn't know what was hidden in it. One thing still puzzled him, though--the UFO. It didn't figure in.

"Jorge, what's wrong?" Devon asked.

The young man turned to see the concerned looks on both Devon's and Danny's faces. He betrayed no emotion outwardly, but inside his stomach was all in knots. "My brother and sister-in-law are under police protection. Pedro told them they were threatened by some hoods. They wouldn't identify them, because they fear for my life if they do."

"Do you know?" Devon asked.

Jorge nodded. "Rafael Ortega. He came while Michael was at their house. There was a confrontation, but no one was hurt, thank God." There was a slight tremor in his voice and he sank onto the edge of the bed. "You remember that book I told you about?"

"Yes," Devon answered as he seated himself next to the lad.

Jorge looked up at the Englishman. "I wasn't exactly truthful with Michael as to what it was. It wasn't just a racketeer's record book. It's an outline and schedule for a plan to overthrow a small South American nation."

"What?" Devon exclaimed.

"Yes, and to make matters worse, the book is no longer in my possession. Michael has it and if Rodriguez finds out, he'll kill to get it back."

"KITT, would I lie to you? I know this city like the back of my hand. Besides, the directional navigation system computations are getting easier to read." He was silent a moment. "Las Vegas was the beginning of the and for Michael Long, remember," he added somberly.

"That's right, it was," KITT/m said softly. "That was a little over two years ago. I had just come on line. We didn't know each other yet." KITT/m thought back to the early days, when Michael Knight didn't exist and he was just a black box of wires and bubble memory microcircuits. Programming had been stepped up to a fast and furious pace when word had come that the man Wilton Knight had selected as the project's pilot was undergoing life-saving surgery. He'd needed a body, but the prototype wasn't ready yet. The plasteel shell had been molecularly bonded to Michael Long's own car and in the next six weeks the modifications were made and KITT had truly been born--a reality. And now, he was experiencing actual human -feelings, was actually in the human world. 'IT think I understand how you felt when you woke up in the Knight Medical Facility. This feeling of--of-"

"Mortality," Michael/k said. "Yeah, I know. You learn to live with it. You have to use intuition and common sense in the art of survival. Humans have been doing it for a long, long time, buddy."

"I hate to admit this, Michael, but I'm scared. I've never given a thought to bullets striking me until last night. Right now, I wish you could go in instead of me."

"It's okay to be scared, KITT. I've been there and I know what you're feeling, but you handled yourself we1l last night. You used good judgment and followed my instincts better than I could. That sounds odd--but you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I understand. But I still can't help but wish we were back to our old selves."

"Right now, wishing isn't going to do anything. We have to handle this the best way we can."

"You're right," KITT/m agreed with a sigh. 'We've gotten this far--we can't stop now. Scan the area for that Le Mans we encountered last night, Rodriguez and Ortega must have something to get around in."

"Gotcha! While I'm doing that, you follow through with our plan."

"You call that a plan? Quicksand would be more solid--"

"You have a better idea?" Michael/k cut in.

"No."

"Okay. So it's my idea or nothin', right?"

"Right," KITT/m said with a nod.

"So--" Michael/k continued, "you remember what to do?'

"Yes, I remember what to do," he answered. "I'm to let you take a reading of the penthouse. If Rodriguez isn't in, I'm to break in and snoop around, then leave a surveillance device. If he's in I'm to let you take recordings of any conversations via the com-link. I'm to take no risks whatsoever."

"Right, if I ever get my body back, I don't want it ventilated."

KITT/m grimaced. "Thank you for the vote of confidence." He popped open the door and got out. "You know any recordings we get won't hold up in a court of law."

"I know. This is for us to find out their next move. If we happen to hear what I hope we'll hear, we'll consider it a bonus."

"Oh, well, then wish me luck."

"Good luck, KITT, and be careful. Don't try anything dumb. If the kitchen gets hot, get out."

Puzzled, KITT/m stared blankly at the vox-box. "But I'm not going to the kitchen, I'm going to the penthouse."

"KITT!" Michael/k replied in a patient tone. "That was just an expression. What I'm trying to say is if it looks dangerous, just use caution--extreme caution."

"Oh," he replied, frowning. "You already told me that. Why have you gotten so redundant all of a sudden?"

"Never mind! Just go!" Michael/k ordered.

KITT/a shrugged and walked across the parking lot to the huge hotel. The red sensor light tracked rapidly back and forth as it homed in on KITT/m as he disappeared into the building.

He sauntered across the lobby, heading for the elevators and pressed the call button. While he waited, he looked around the lavishly decorated hotel. Noise from the casino drifted in, drawing his attention to the people all around who were smoking, drinking, gambling, laughing and talking. Disgusted, he shook his head. "I don't understand how humans can call this relaxing. All they're doing is losing money and gaining poor health," he grumbled. The doors slid open and he quickly entered the car. Luckily, he was the only passenger in the lift and he held the com-link to the control panel. "Okay, Michael, take me to the right floor."

"Right," the computer voice came over the micro-speaker, followed by an almost inaudible hum. The elevator bounced and started to ascend the shaft. "KITT, I've checked the car rental agencies and as far as I can tell, Rodriguez didn't rent a car. I've checked the names of his goons and came up with a possibility: Orlando Blanco. The man rented a Le Mans three days ago and I recall the name used last night for the muscleman with Ortega was Orlando. Also, that same car is in the parking lot, so they could still be in their rooms."

"Then he might--" KITT/m stopped talking, quickly putting his hands behind his back as the elevator doors whooshed open. A richly dressed woman entered, the sweet smell of her rose-scented perfume filling the enclosed space. She was a shapely blonde and she stared at KITT/m, obviously liking what she saw. Her low-cut dress defied gravity and the thigh-high slit up the side of her skirt revealed more than KITT/m could have ever imagined.

Suddenly he felt very odd. Tingling sensations that were confusing yet exhilarating teased his groin. He nearly gasped aloud as certain muscles involuntarily tensed. Was the intoxicating scent filling the elevator a pheromonal snare? He glanced at the door, wishing it would open so he could escape from this biological magnet, but he was trapped. Embarrassed by his response, he clasped his hands in front of him and continued to stare at the woman. Her eyes were as blue as her sapphire dress, setting off her jeweled choker and dangling earrings. She looked like she'd stepped out of the pages of Vogue. Smiling softly, she winked at him, increasing KITT/m's uneasiness and embarrassment even more. Wide-eyed, he continued to stare dumbly at her.

"Just checking in, big guy?" she purred, moving to stand next to him.

"Uh, yes," he answered, his voice cracking. "As a matter of fact, I just arrived." he continued, his gaze moving from her ample bosom to her face. Suddenly the air in the elevator became hot and stuffy. He tried to ignore the annoying physical response, but it wouldn't go away. Seductively, she moved closer to him, lightly brushing her body against his as he pushed a numbered button on the control panel. KITT/m thought he was going to explode as his blood pressure skyrocketed. Dizzy, he leaned against the wall panels, forcing himself to take deep, even breaths.

"Honey, are you all right?" she asked, the very picture of concern.

"Yeah," KITT/m answered weakly as he tried to recover his drowning senses.

"Good, for a minute I thought you were gonna pass out," she said, and then smiled, showing pearl-white teeth. "I'm Kimberly. Welcome to Las Vegas. Where are you from?" she asked, honey-voiced.

"Los Angeles. Um, I'm originally from Detroit," he managed to say. A definite snort sounded from the com-link.

"What was that?" Kimberly asked innocently, pressing closer.

"Oh, nothing! Probably came from the elevator." He pressed back into the corner, trying to merge with the wall. The temperature in the lift seemed to be climbing rapidly. Now he understood the meaning of the expression 'wanting to die.'

She smiled and looked up at him. "How would you like to go down in an up elevator?" she whispered, reaching for the emergency stop button.

"I--I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, don't be afraid. My profession is legal here."

"Uh, no--thank you," he said, grabbing her soft smooth hand. "Not right now. I, er, have some business to attend to."

"Oh." she said with a pout. "Okay, but let me give you something to remember me by." She reached into her silver sequined purse. Scandalized, KITT/m watched, not knowing what she was up to. Quickly, she pressed a business card into his sweaty palm. "I can arrange to be free this evening if you're interested." she said coyly. By now she had pushed him well into the corner. Her shapely leg brushed against him again and he closed his eyes, "I'm a very good judge of--"

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. She frowned then quickly smiled at KITT/m. "Duty calls," she said with a sigh. "Just remember, my name's Kimberly." She licked her lips and winked again, then slowly moved away. She paused and leaned back to eye him once more. "I'll be looking forward to your calls'' she said and disappeared behind the closing doors.

Quietly, the car started up again and KITT/m sagged against the paneled wall, exhaling slowly. Her perfume lingered in the air around him.

"Ahem!"

"Huh?" KITT/m said with a start. "What is it, Michael?" he asked irritably.

"If you could see the bio-scanner, you'd be ashamed of yourself, pal. Brother, did she put the moves on you," he said and laughed. "And you scoffed at biology."

"I fail to see what's so amusing about that situation," KITT/m growled. "That --that was highly embarrassing! Are all the females of your species that aggressive?"

"Some more than others." Michael/k's voice still held a touch of amusement. "I'll tell you about it later. Right now, you're nearing the top floor. Get ready."

"I am," he said, collecting his wits. "For an elevator ride, this has to be one of the longest!"

"No longer than normal--it just seemed that way."

"You're telling me!" He watched the door anxiously. "Which way do I go?"

"Turn right and go to the door marked P2. That's Rodriguez's pad." Michael/k paused a beat. "Think you can handle it, pal?"

"After that incident, I can handle anything--including facing bullets." The doors slid open and KITT/m stepped out. Quietly, he moved through the deserted hall. Carefully, he held up the com-link. "Can you read anything?" he whispered.

"Scanning," Michael/k replied softly, and after a few long moments, he continued. "I can't detect any life signs. The distance isn't helping."

"Use the power amplifiers. They should give the signal enough boost."

"I'll try." Again there was silence. "That helps, but I still can't detect anything inside that would indicate warm bodies."

"Good. Open the door." He held the com-link to the lock and the microwave manipulator hummed through the speaker grid. The lock gave an audible click and he tried the knob. It twisted easily and he pushed the door slightly open. "Good job, Michael," KITT/m said as he peered through the crack. Seeing no one, he entered quietly. "This man must be infinitely wealthy to afford accommodations such as this."

"He's got bucks, pal. See what you can find.'

KITT/m searched the suite from bathroom to kitchenette, going through trashcans, ashtrays and dresser drawers. Occasionally, he'd stop to ask Michael a question, such as what to look for and where to look next, but after about fifteen minutes he'd found nothing of importance. Hands on hips, he surveyed the room.

"I can't believe this. My first case as a human, and I find nothing in the way of leads. This is disappointing." He glanced around, his eyes resting on the polished walnut cocktail table by the sofa. "I'm going to plant the transmitter and leave. We'll just have to wait until they come back."

"Well, you'd better hurry, because Rodriguez and his happy family just pulled up in a limo."

"Oh, great!" KITT/m fumbled in his jacket pocket, pulling out a small black device with a tiny antenna on it. Hastily, he placed it underneath the cocktail table. "Are you receiving?"

"Loud and clear! Now get outta there!"

KITT/m left the suite hurrying to the elevators and punched the call button. Worriedly, he glanced at the doors, realizing Rodriguez and his men would be coming through at any moment.

"Oh, no! The odds of them being on the car I just called are--" Quickly, he raced for the stairs as the bell chimed, signaling the elevator's arrival. The stairway door closed just as the lift opened and Juan Rodriguez and his party stepped out.

Immediately, he went over to the wet bar to prepare himself a Bloody Mary. Rafael came through the door, looking very pleased with himself.

"You look like the snake that swallowed the frog," Rodriguez said, setting the shaker on the polished wooden countertop. "You've located Knight?"

"If I had," Rafael said, his smile disappearing, "would I be standing here?"

"Then what are you smiling for?" Rodriguez asked gruffly.

"Dammit, Juan! We were out until four a.m. and couldn't find the man. It's obvious he's somewhere in New Mexico by now."

Rodriguez frowned. "We may have sealed the deal, but it could still go sour. We were lucky that Pedro and his wife 'respect' us so much. They know what we would do if they talked. Jorge is in no position to talk, either, thanks, to his imagination. But if Knight has the book and sees what it is, it could destroy this whole transaction."

"It was a Bible! Why do you keep saying it was the book?" Rafael challenged hotly.

"I've been in this business a long time, Rafael. Intuition! I just have this feeling that's where it is hidden." He poured his drink like an expert, but his eyes never left his associate. "Jorge doesn't have the book on his person and I know he couldn't destroy it, so he had to have hidden it," he said as he came around the corner of the bar. "And where would a devout Catholic like him put it? In God's hands." Rafael opened his mouth to speak, but Rodriguez continued. "So, what part of his church does Jorge have with him? His Bible. It's the perfect place."'

"Juan," the younger man sighed, "I think your imagination is interfering with your intuition. Jorge could have dug a hole in the backyard and buried it as far as we know."

"You say he had a Bible. Are you sure? Did you check it?"

"No, we didn't have time."

"Then how do you know what it was?"

"My intuition!" Rafael said sarcastically.

The phone rang, interrupting the two. Rodriguez was closest to it and snatched the receiver off the wall unit. "Rodriguez," he growled. "Yes, operator, I'll take the call." He paused a moment and suddenly his frown turned into a smile. "Miss Short, good to hear from you. You have news?" Again he paused as the woman spoke, interjecting an occasional 'yes' in the conversation. When she finally finished, he was no longer smiling. "I see. Yes, thank you. You've just earned a bonus, dear lady. Goodbye." Scowling, he hung up the phone and turned to Rafael.

"I've seen that look before. What's wrong?"

"That was our informant in Deming. Dominguez is out on bail," he said evenly.

"So?"

"She collected on a favor from a friend at the motel they're staying at and learned of a very peculiar conversation Jorge had with his brother. They discussed the events of last night and--the whereabouts of his Bible!" he said, slamming his fist on the bar. "I tell you, Knight has it and if he gets it back to Jorge, that cocaine we planted in his car is worthless."

Rafael sank into the plush sofa and leaned back. Uncertainty flashed briefly in his dark eyes. "Let's look at this logically. Knight is investigating Jorge's case, looking for a way to clear him. We're not sure if he knows about our plans to control Isla Bella, or anything else."

"He must know something! Why else would he have visited Pedro and Joaquina last night?"

"Yes, he knows something--but how much?" Rafael said. "If Dominguez told him about us and revealed to Knight where the book is, don't you think this man would have turned it over to the police by now?" Ortega propped a booted foot on the ornate cocktail table, giving it a good jolt. A small black object fell to the carpeted floor, catching Rafael's attention. "Que es esto?" He leaned forward and scooped up the device, looking at it. His eyes darted to Rodriguez.

Quietly, Rodriguez moved closer to examine it. He motioned for silence, and then gestured for Rafael to follow his lead. "Now that you mention it, he would have. I'm not sure how these Americans control their private investigators. Maybe you're right--I am worrying too much. Come, we've finished our business here, we will relax for a day or two and then head back to Mexico."

"But what about Jorge Dominguez? I thought you wanted to see what was going to happen to him."

"Our problem with Jorge seems to be resolving itself. I think we need not worry about him anymore.'' Rodriguez paused, motioning Ortega to stash the device and follow him. "I'm tired. I think I will take a nap. Wake me at one p.m."

"Very well. I'll be across the hall with Orlando and Ignacio," Ortega said, stuffing the transmitter under a big, soft throw pillow, and followed his boss. The door shut behind him and Rafael turned to the other man.

"That could be the police listening in," Rafael whispered.

"No," Rodriguez said in a hushed voice. "I don't think so. I think somehow our elusive Mr. Knight got in here! Right now, he's the only one who'd have an interest in our conversations. If it were the police, we'd be under arrest this very moment. It Quickly the older man tugged a suitcase out of his closet and began to pack. "Tell Ignacio and Orlando to prepare to leave. You're taking a short trip to Deming. Knight now has what he needs to clear Dominguez and if he does have the book, we've got problems. But we're going to stop those problems before they get out of hand."

"What have you got planned?"

"Are you familiar with the saying 'killing two birds with one stone?"'

"Yes," Rafael said with a nod.

"I want you three to go to Deming, contact Miss Short at the county courthouse and she'll direct you to Jorge. Take him alive and force Michael Knight's hand. Make a deal with him: Jorge's life for all the evidence on us. In any event, neither of them will walk away from it alive." Rodriguez stopped packing and looked at his subordinate. "What's two more bodies and the burned shell of a car in the desert? Just another crime, and we are clear."

"That's a tall order," Rafael said, leaning against the door. "What if the book doesn't surface or copies were made?"

"By the time the police figure it out, we'll have everything changed and dealers notified. The police won't be able to touch us."

"And where will you be?"

"I'm taking that vacation I talked about," Rodriguez said as he snapped the suitcase shut. "Get ready, we'll discuss the details of the plan on the way to the airport."

He shoved the thoughts aside and turned to Danny. "How can you stand this waiting?"

"After twenty years of driving for Wilton Knight, you get used to it," Danny said with a shrug.

"Wilton Knight," Jorge said thoughtfully. "I've heard that name so many times since I won the scholarship from the Foundation, but I've never met the man. Do you know him well?"

Knew him," Danny corrected softly. "He passed away a couple of years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know," the young man said somberly. "What was he like?"

"Wilton Knight was many things. He was kind and generous and sometimes patient, but then he could be stubborn, infuriating and cantankerous. He was a dreamer, a real genius."

"And very wealthy," Jorge added.

"Yes, he was very wealthy. He built Knight Industries and the Foundation with his own blood, sweat and tears. And believe me, there were many tears."

A rattle at the door interrupted them and Jorge turned to see Devon and April enter the room. Devon pocketed the key in his gray suit coat. He looked sharp and dashing, while April looked like she'd just stepped out of an expensive department store in her pink spring outfit. Jorge felt a little ashamed of his K-Mart budget wardrobe. All of these people had more money than he'd ever dreamed of. Why should they be interested in him? Where he came from, all he'd ever encountered was hatred and prejudice from the wealthy.

"Good news," Devon said cheerfully. "We've just finished scanning Michael's message. He's uncovered some interesting facts that will be of great help in your case. It seems the Las Vegas Police are rather busy right now."

"Busy? You mean Michael turned the book over to them?" Jorge asked, surprised.

"No, he still has it," April said. "While we were out in the mobile unit, we got another call from Michael, He gave the police an anonymous tip and is headed back here. He should be arriving in Deming in a couple of hours."

"Then they're after Rodriguez?"

"Unfortunately, no. Rodriguez and his bunch made a hasty departure and took off in their private jet before they could be stopped."

"He always manages to slip away," Jorge said, shaking his head. "At least Michael held onto the book."

"Yes," Devon replied as he sat in the chair opposite Danny, "and you're lucky he did. What I'd like to know is, why on earth did you hide it in the first place?"

"I don't know," Jorge said and looked out the window. "I should have handled it differently, but I know I did one thing right. I got out of Mexico alive. If I had turned that book over to the police, it would have disappeared--along with me."

"Well, no matter. What's happened has happened," Devon said. "A little more good news. When the Las Vegas police deem it safe, we'll fly your brother and his wife here. Their testimony, along with Michael's, will undoubtedly clear you of any charges. It's just a shame that we couldn't have captured the big prize in this, but Mr. Rodriguez will have the Matamoros police to contend with."

"If he goes to Matamoros," Jorge said, "and they aren't on his payroll."

"Well, hey, we have something to celebrate!" Danny said cheerfully. "Tell you what, I'll buy a round of sodas."

The young man smiled. He knew the truck driver was trying to lighten his mood and he did have something to celebrate. "Okay, but I'll go get them. Last time you brought me a Tab!" he said and made a face.

"I couldn't help it if that's all the damn machine had in it."

Jorge laughed as he took a handful of change from the driver. "April, Devon, what would you like?"

"Nothing for me, thank you," Devon said.

"Um, I'd like a Tab," April said dryly. "That is, if you can find one."

"Oh, sure," Jorge said, feeling a little embarrassed. "It's a shame you're passing up on Mr. West's generosity, Mr. Miles. I understand he doesn't do this very often," he said and quickly headed for the door.

"Just go get the drinks," Danny ordered in a half-threatening tone.

Jorge laughed and went down the hall to the stairs. He felt good. Maybe his luck was turning around at last. It was almost too good to be true-Rodriguez running away. It wasn't like the old snake, but then maybe that book was too hot to handle now.

Jorge reached the vending machines at the bottom of the stairs and checked the selections. The day was already cooling off and soon a winter night in the desert would set in. Quickly he fed some coins into-the drink machine and nothing happened. He pounded it with his fist and muttered a curse. As he turned to go to the motel office, a shadow fell across him, Startled, he looked up into a big man's face. "Oh, dear mother of heaven," he said as he recognized Orlando Blanco.

"Hello, Dominguez," another voice sounded, and Rafael Ortega appeared from around the corner. "It took us a while, but our vigilance has paid off." Sharply, he pointed to the parking lot. "Orlando, show him to the car."

"No!" Jorge shouted, trying to get away. The big man grabbed him, savagely twisting his arm behind his back. A rough hand clamped over his mouth as he tried to cry out for help. The two hoods dragged him to a waiting automobile and threw him in the back seat. Rafael got in after him, training his gun on the young man as Blanco entered the other side, and the car took off with tires smoking.

The last golden streaks of the sun were fading from the sky as KITT/m pulled into the parking lot of the Hacienda Inn. The mobile unit sat quietly across from them and he stared at it for a moment. Somehow it gave him a comfortable feeling knowing it was there.

"KITT!" Michael/k said. "Something's wrong."

"What?" KITT/m responded, snapping back to reality. "What do you read?"

'First off, there's two squad cars and a mobile crime lab sitting close to this building's entrance. One car in particular is assigned to officer Davilla.

"So? Maybe he's checking on Jorge.''

'With a mobile crime lab?"

"You've got a point," KITT/m agreed and got out of the car. "Keep your sensors tuned. I have a feeling this is going to be a long night."

"I'm inclined to agree, buddy," Michael/k commented and automatically closed the door as KITT/m headed into the motel complex.

KITT/m rounded the bottom of the stairwell and saw two crime lab technicians going over the vending area with brushes and graphite dust- He gave them a passing glance as he bounded up the stairs, two steps at a time. Going straight to room 235, he rapped lightly on the door.

"Who is it?" came Devon's muffled voice.

"It's me, KITT."

"KITT? Oh," Devon replied, opening the door. "Michael, this is no time to joke. Jorge's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Quickly he stepped inside to see Officers Davilla and Feldberg talking to April and Danny. All of them looked up as he entered. "By whom? When?"

"Does it matter?" Devon asked sharply. "The damage is done."

"Devon, please," April said, going over to the two. "You don't have to take this out on Michael." she said, turning to the tall man. "We were sort of celebrating your break in the case and Jorge went downstairs to get some soda pop. We heard a commotion and by the time we got to the ground floor, they were gone."

"How long ago did this happen and who are 'they?'"

"It happened right after we finished talking with you," Devon answered. "We couldn't see exactly who it was, but I don't think we have to wonder."

"Rodriguez? But I saw him leave."

"He must have diverted here. Evidently he had no intention of leaving a. loose end like Jorge alive," Davilla commented.

"Yes, I'm beginning to understand the human trait of deception," KITT/m replied. "But it doesn't stand to reason. Jorge knows what's in the book, but so do I. Why didn't he come after me too?"

"That's what we're wonderin', kid," Feldberg said. "Mr. Miles told us the whole story about this book. This ain't no ordinary kidnapping. Usually there's a ransom demand and there's been nothin' to indicate they want anything. They'll probably just kill him and come after you."

"Jerry!" Davilla admonished.

"But he's right," Devon agreed. "Damn, I shouldn't have been so careless."

"Will you stop blaming yourself," Danny snapped. "I'm the one at fault. I should've gone to get the damn sodas myself."

"But he was my responsibility," Devon countered hotly. "I shouldn't have let him out of my sight."

Suddenly the phone rang, interrupting them. Devon snatched it up in the blink of an eye. "Yes." He paused and a frown of bewilderment crossed his face. "Yes, he just arrived. Hold on, please." He covered the mouthpiece. "It's for you, Michael. I think this is it."

Quickly Feldberg took action, giving terse orders over his walkie-talkie. Slowly, KITT/m put the receiver to his ear. "Hello?"

"Mr. Knight?" a male voice whispered.

"Yes, this is he."

"Good." the man said. "I have Jorge Dominguez and you have-something I want. I propose a trade," he said, his English carrying a heavy Spanish accent.

"Trade? What are you talking about?" KI7T/m looked at Officer Davilla and nodded, understanding that the officer wanted him to keep the other party on the line as long as possible so they could trace the call.

"You understand me quite plainly. Bring the book to the weather station northern most on the Sat-Trak grounds and come alone, No police! Comprende? If you don't appear there in the next hour, the next time you see Dominguez, he'll be a corpse."

The phone clicked, a dial tone sounding in KITT/m's ear. He replaced the receiver and shrugged. "I'm sorry. He hung up."

."That's all right. You tried." Davilla said and looked at Feldberg. "Jerry?"

"No, dammit! Not enough time."

"Well, I'll just have to go," KITT/m said softly.

"That would be suicide, man." Davilla protested. "Do you know the statistics on kidnap victim recovery? You go out there and give this Rodriguez what he wants and we'll have two bodies on our hands. You know too much-he'd never let you walk away from this alive."

"And I can't allow this either, Michael," Devon said. "There has to be another way."

"That man said that if I don't get to that weather station within the next hour, he'll kill Jorge. I can't let that happen. I'm programmed to preserve human life in any way I can, no matter what the consequences. I've got to try!" KITT/m argued, heading for the door.

"Okay, but we'll follow you," Davilla said. "We may be able to corner Rodriguez yet. Jerry, you have a wire with you?"

KITT/m paused and the door and looked back. "Wire?" he asked, puzzled.

April looked from KITT/m to the patrolman. "No need for that." she said hastily. "We have equipment in the Knight 2000 to track and monitor Michael." Her eyes moved back to KITT/m and their gazes locked.

He knew she was worried just by the look on her face, but there was no time for comforting assurances. "Fine," KITT/m said and glanced at the com-link. "We'd better get going. The Sat-Trak installation is a fifty-two point seven minute drive from here. Stay approximately two point five miles behind me. I was specifically told to come alone. When and if I get hold of Jorge, you'll know. I'll keep the communication line to the mobile unit open and tap into the police band to keep the officers informed. Let's go." He turned and strode out of the room.

"I don't like this at all." Devon said as they followed KITT/m out into the hall.

Outside, the officers got into their cars as Danny fired up the rig. KITT/m glanced at them as he pulled out of the parking lot. He saw Devon and April enter the semi-trailer and he knew it wouldn't be long until they'd be on the road after him.

"Michael, did you get a trace on that phone call I took?"

"How could I miss it? It was definitely a mobile phone." Michael/k flashed a map of Sat-Trak on the primary video screen; a red dot emphasized the location of the call. "They're already at the weather station waiting for us to fall into their sweaty little palms. I think we'd better devise a plan. This could be a very sticky situation."

"I think you've been in my CPU too long. You're starting to acquire a knack for understatement. Have you any suggestions?"

"I'm working on it."

They drove down the lonely expense of highway. Darkness shrouded the area and the stars appeared one by one. The moon was brighter now as it waxed toward full. The desert was flat, and every now and then ghostly shapes of century plants, yucca and cacti would hover and disappear as they flashed by. The Knight 2000's headlights were the only source of artificial light to be seen. KITT/m glanced in the side-view mirror, looking for the mobile unit and the squad cars. "I don't see them."

"They're there. I've got them on your tracking sensors."

"Good," KITT/m replied. "Have you had any ideas yet?"

"Nothing that works. I've also calculated the odds of getting out of this in one piece. They're--"

"I know what the odds are. Just work on a plan," KITT/m snapped and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, Michael, I didn't mean to shout."

"That's okay, pal. I understand. You're uptight and you've never had to face a situation like this before."

He was so right. KITT/m was scared, and he didn't like the feeling. He'd faced danger before, but only in his automobile form. If Michael's body was destroyed, he'd cease to exist and Michael's consciousness would be forever trapped in his CPU. He wasn't sure which frightened him more, his situation or Michael's.

Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at a utility road that led to the weather station and disappeared down it in a cloud of dust. Above them, a bright star glowed in the sky, moving slowly across the heavens.

The weather station, a small concrete structure of block design, was well lit. A windsock hung limply from a pole next to the velocity and directional vanes and behind this, a huge satellite dish loomed like a horror-movie monster. The dark mountains in the background gave an eerie cast to the scene.

A Cadillac sat in the lighted area in front of the building. To the right of it, Ignacio held a gun to a bound and gagged Jorge.

KITT/m stopped the Knight 2000 twenty-five yards away from them and stared.

The stage was set--he just wished he knew the script. He exhaled loudly. "What should I do?"

'Right now, they hold all the cards. We'll have to negotiate. Open the door and use it as a shield and see what they want. Use your logic and intuition, buddy. That's all we've got."

By now, Rafael Ortega and Orlando had gotten out of the parked car. The floodlights cast grotesque shadows on the white block house behind them as they stood patiently beside their car. KITT/m popped the door and got out, standing behind it. "Ortega! I came alone, just as you-instructed. Where's Mr. Rodriguez, or do you do all of his dirty work?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, but my associate couldn't make it to our little meeting," Rafael shouted in response. "He had other things to take care of. I trust you brought the requested item."

"I did, Ortega. Now let Jorge go!"

"Oh, no! Not with you standin' next to your car." The hood shook his head. "We let him go, you'd just hop back in and drive off. No, you bring it here and we'll hand you Dominguez."

"Michael?" KITT/m whispered out the corner of his mouth.

"No dice! They're all armed. He'd shoot you both before you could take one step."

"Who are you talking to? Is someone with you?" Rafael asked dangerously.

"No one's in the car. Come and check it out if you like."

"No," Ortega laughed. "I don't think you'd take a foolhardy risk like that. Now, bring the book and we'll get this over with."

"Mr. Ortega, I have a proposal. You disarm and bring Jorge halfway. Just you. I'll meet you in the middle. Your servile primates there would be your security against any tricks. You get your book and I get Mr. Dominguez. Fair trade."

Rafael mulled the suggestion over, and then nodded. "Seems reasonable, Mr. Knight. Ignacio!" He snapped his fingers and motioned the man forward. Slowly the big man moved, shoving Jorge in front of him. Rafael handed his gun to the burly man and grabbed Jorge's arm. The little man said something ' to the bodyguard, but KITT couldn't hear it. Ortega nodded, then turned back to him. "Show me the book."

KITT/m leaned in the car to retrieve the Bible.

"Just what the hell are you doing?"

"Trust me. When I give you the signal, move in front of us." KITT/m stood up, holding the book high. "Here it is." He opened it and pulled out the papers. "All in one piece."

"Good, we approach now," the man answered and pulled Jorge with him.

Silently, KITT/m and the other party moved toward each other. The two muscle-men stood ready to move at the first sign of trouble, The Knight 2000's red sensor light whipped back and forth like an angry cat's tail. The only sounds in the desert came from the night creatures as the parties neared each other. They were just about to meet when suddenly Jorge balked, spinning madly, landing a kick to Rafael's groin. He bolted into the night cover as the hood crumpled to the ground in pain, and Orlando and Ignacio instantly opened fire in his direction. Stunned, KITT/m stood frozen to the spot. He hadn't calculated this possibility into his plan. '

"KITT, run!" Michael/k called as he spun out.

"Get him!" Rafael croaked and the two men moved, aiming their fire at KITT/m's retreating back. The lead projectiles whistled hotly through the cool night air as the Knight 2000 shot forward. Startled and confused, the hoods trained their sights on the unmanned vehicle. Bullets bounced off the supercar's hide in showers of orange sparks as it moved to protect its partner.

KITT/m was about to reach safety when suddenly a shooting pain tipped through his right arm. Hot blood welled from the bullet wound and he gripped the injury, staggering the last steps to the car as it came to a jolting halt in front of him. The door swung open and with a bloody hand he reached for it, falling to his knees. The movement sent waves of nausea through him and every nerve was on fire. It was a flesh wound, but the pain was like nothing he could've imagined. Dazed, he stared at the sticky red substance and paled.

Ortega's men kept firing, their ricocheting bullets randomly bouncing off the surface of the Knight 2000. Suddenly, a stray bullet severed a power line leading to the station. It vibrated and broke into a shower of sizzling blue sparks, raining fire over the area. KITT/m watched, his vision wavering in and out of focus as the live cable fell in slow-motion to the ground, striking Ortega's car, close to where the bodyguards stood, Their screams echoed in his skull as he saw them fall, writhing from the high-voltage shock. Ortega was crawling toward the Knight 2000, trying to get away from the deadly electricity, terror written across his face. Suddenly, the Cadillac ignited, exploding into a huge yellow-orange inferno. From somewhere in the melee, he heard Rafael scream and then his own computer voice came from behind. It was Michael/k.

"KITT, move! Get in, quick. It's that thing--it's back!"

KITT/m heard his partner's words, but couldn't move. Spots swam before him, as everything grew fuzzy. Suddenly, a thrumming sound filled the area as brilliant light turned everything to an ethereal white. Numbly, KITT/m looked up at the huge spacecraft that had appeared from out of nowhere.

"Michael," he whispered, staring blindly into the dazzling light. "I need you...." And he slumped to the ground as blackness took him.

Devon's message about intruders on the grounds and had agreed not to interfere, but to standby.

"They've stopped," April announced, swiveling in her chair. "I'm worried."

"You're not alone," Devon commented.

"I mean I'm more so, because they're still talking like--well, in their role reversal."

"Oh, no," Devon breathed and closed his eyes. "I thought that was all over with. If anything happens to them, I'll hold myself personally responsible. I should have never let them finish this case."

"Mr. Miles, April!" Danny's voice sounded through the intercom. "Turn on the front cameras. Something strange is going on."

Quickly, April snapped around, cueing the video sensors. The static cleared and Devon was instantly over her, watching the screen. She zoomed in on the scenario unfolding before them.

"Can you get audio?" he asked.

"Only what Michael transmits, and that's not coming in very clear." She pushed the earpiece in further holding her hand, over her other ear, trying to listen. "No, no good, something's interfering. Probably emissions from the radio dish in the background."

Devon hit the intercom, locking it for two-way conversation. "Danny, get us as close as you can without giving us away. Notify Officers Davilla and Feldberg what's happening."

"I'm sure they can see it, too." came the truck driver's reply. "It's really bright out here, so operating without lights will be easy." The man paused a moment. "Ya know, this is very strange. It's nearly quarter to nine and it should be pitch-black out."

"Probably a full moon," Devon commented hastily. "Anything, April?"

"Bits and pieces of conversation. I don't know who Michael's talking to."

"How close are we?"

"A little under two kilometers," April answered. Her face suddenly went white. "Oh my God! I hear gunfire!" she exclaimed.

Suddenly the muted roar of the squad cars passing the mobile unit penetrated the trailer walls.

"Holy Christ!" Danny's exclamation came over the speaker.

"Danny, what is it?" Devon asked urgently.

"It looks like the Fourth of July over there!"

"Devon, sensors are picking up an unusual radiation and I don't know what to make of it. Take a look!" April said, eyes wide.

Miles stared at the screen before them as it automatically flicked to another scale. A red graph-line climbed up the grid until it could go no higher. "Area involved?" Devon asked tersely.

"Circular pattern; it's like a great dome of thermomagnetic energy and we're heading straight for it!" The computer technician turned back to the CRT taking more readings. "Devon, that place has become a huge electric fry pan."

"Good God! Michael's in the middle of it!" Devon breathed. "Danny, stop the semi! If we get caught in that energy field, no one will survive."

"But we're still three-quarters of a mile away!" Danny replied. "You wanna walk--holy Hannah! I can't believe what I'm seeing!"

Devon and April turned to the monitor just in time to see the picture turn to snowy static. Frantically, April tried to adjust the camera receptors,

"What's happening?" Devon said into the intercom. "We can't get a visual." Suddenly all the electrical equipment in the mobile unit flickered and faded into dark silence. Immediately, the two groped for the door's manual release mechanism. April found it first and triggered it. The side door swung open and intense light flooded through the exit as if the sun had suddenly decided to shine at night. Devon jumped to the ground, turning to catch April as she leapt after him.

The area was bathed in gold and silver light, so bright that Devon had to squint. A mechanical hum filled the air, vibrating even the solidly mounted mobile unit's, paneling. There above the weather station hovered a huge round disk with many lighted windows. Like a wheel within a wheel it slowly turned, spanning an incredible distance. Glittering rays of energy swept the area, freezing the people and vehicles in mid-motion. They stood like granite statues as the UFO bathed the area with sparkling light-energy probes. The hum rose to a high-pitched whine, combined with a terrible sucking noise as if the alien craft were draining something off. The cool night air heated up as gusts of hot air blew sand and grit everywhere.

Speechless, Devon and April watched just outside the zone of contact, bracing themselves against the miniature sandstorm. For Devon, time stood still, and it seemed as if the world had disappeared. The air was alive with raw energy and his attention was focused on the hypnotizing display of colors. Suddenly the UFO shimmered, drawing all its energy feelers back inside. The sound of what had to be engines powering up emitted a deafening roar and the center wheel began to turn faster, sending a blast of heat and sand at them. At once the spell was broken and Devon was again aware of his surroundings. Danny had joined them, trying to catch the last glimpse of the alien craft. The incredible whine rose so high they clutched at their ears, trying to block the painful ultrasonic waves. Momentarily, Devon blacked out. Feeling himself fall, he fought to remain conscious as he hit the gritty desert floor. Through a haze, he saw the huge craft rise higher and higher, then zip off like a shooting star.

He forced himself upright and rubbed his head. It felt as if someone had hit him with a billy club. Looking around, he saw Danny and April had also collapsed in a heap beside the mobile unit. The computer technician moaned softly and stirred, while the truck driver close by her lay motionless.

The Englishman stared at the darkened weather station. A cool desert wind gently rustled the scrub and a lone tumbleweed intruded upon the scene. The desert insects continued their night songs as though nothing unusual had happened. The scene reminded Devon of his World War II days. It looked and smelled like the aftermath of an assault he had participated in France. The smell of burned flesh and vegetation permeated the air. He looked at the darkened block house coupled with the shadow of the radio dish, as it stood silhouetted in the pale moonlight. Indeed, it was like a science-fiction movie come to life.

He scrambled to his feet. His equilibrium hadn't quite returned to normal, so he staggered slightly as he went to the mobile unit. From the passenger's side of the tab, he grabbed a heavy-duty flashlight and headed for the zone of confrontation, flashing the beam over the area as he walked the distance. "Michael! Jorge!" he called, but only the insects answered his shouts. He reached the first squad car that sat in the middle of the dirt road just outside the entrance to the weather station. It had remained intact, while the other cruiser just ahead of it was completely in pieces. Devon found Davilla and Feldberg collapsed on the ground, guns still in their hands. He checked them, making sure they were all right before continuing. Turning to survey the scene, he saw the remains of the hoods' car and the dead power line that hung limply from the block house. Wisps of smoke rose from the ashes around it and amongst smoldering debris he saw what had to be the charred remains of two men. He grimaced at the sight and stench and turned away.

"Michael! Jorge!" Devon called again, his voice echoing off the concrete building. "KITT, are you there?" A moan answered his calls and he turned toward the sound. The flashlight beam revealed another body lying in the middle of the parking area. Quickly Devon raced to see who it was and found Rafael, stunned and slightly burned. He saw the man was going to live and continued his search.

He'd been worried to begin with, but now his anxiety increased rapidly. Where could they be?

"Michael? KITT?" Devon called yet again as he played the light over the area. Suddenly the light reflected back at him and the ghostly outline of the Knight 2000 revealed itself. Quickly he moved toward it. In the distance beyond it he saw a bobbing light.

"Devon?" he heard April call.

"Over here! I've found Michael," he shouted as he hurried to the shadowy shape. Kneeling beside the motionless man, he propped the flashlight so he could see. Immediately he noticed the blood-soaked sleeve of his colleague's right arm.

"Michael? Michael!" he called, gently rolling the young man over onto his back. Panicked by the lack of response, he felt for a pulse and found one, but Michael's flesh was so cold. "Good God," he said in surprise. The others he'd checked weren't this way. More light flooded the area and he glanced up at April and Danny who stood looking over his shoulder. The truck driver trained his heavy-duty flashlight beam on the unconscious man's pale face.

"Devon, is he--?" April asked in a hushed voice.

"No, he's alive, thank God," Devon said. "But he needs medical help."

"I brought this," April said, holding out a first-aid kit. "I know it isn't much, but it might make a difference."

"It just might," Devon said, taking the medical kit. "Give me a hand, Danny. April, check KITT and see if he's got any power. We need to get Michael to shelter."

Immediately April was inside the Knight 2000. Flashlight in hand, she leaned over to tinker underneath the dash, trying to revive the machine. Devon dressed Michael's wound as Danny aimed the light.

"So much has happened, I almost forgot--how are you two feeling?" Devon asked as he worked.

"I'm fine," Danny said. "April recovered first and brought me around with the smelling salts. We saw your light over here and figured it had to be you searching for Michael and KITT." The driver's expression was serious. "Mr. Miles, did we really see-"

"I'm afraid we did, Danny," the older man cut in. "Michael and KITT were telling the truth after all."

"No good, guys," April said as she sat up and looked at the two bedraggled men. "He's drained again.''

"I thought as much," Devon answered and looked up at the truck driver. "Did you check to see if the mobile unit was operative? It shouldn't have been affected by that--thing--at all. We were well out of range."

Danny shook his head. "No, I didn't, but I can," he said, and headed back for the semi.

"Come on, April," Devon said and stood up. "Let's get Michael inside KITT. At least it'll be of some help."

"Are any of the others injured?" she asked as they hauled the tall man up. Supporting his dead weight on their shoulders, they struggled toward the car.

"Davilla and Feldberg are out cold," Devon managed to say. "Mr. Ortega needs some attention and Jorge--I don't know. I haven't located him yet," Devon said with a groan as they maneuvered Michael inside the Knight 2000. "Good Lord, he's heavy."

The young man moaned, moving his head slightly. "KITT..." he mumbled.

Devon breathed a sigh of relief and met April's smile. "See to him, April. I'm going to look around for Jorge and check the others again. I just pray Danny has some luck with the mobile unit or we'll all be stuck out here until Sat-Trak security comes to our rescue."

The Englishman turned, heading back toward the weather station. He hoped that the others would revive soon. But what if that thing had affected them like it had Michael and KITT... He didn't even want to think about that possibility.

"Mr. Miles?" a deep voice called and Devon turned to see Davilla. He looked none the worse for wear considering what he'd just been through.

"Officer," Devon said. "Thank God! Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "I take it you got caught by it, too?"

"Not directly, but we did lose power."

At that moment the rumble of the semi tractor sounded and headlights glowed a short distance down the road.

"Well, that's a relief," Devon said, looking in its direction. "At least the mobile unit is still operative." He turned back to the patrolman. "Is your associate awake yet?"

"Jerry? Yeah," Davilla said with a laugh. "He still can't believe what he saw. We found Ortega sitting in the middle of the parking area. The guy received some minor cuts and burns, but he'll be okay. I see his henchmen weren't as lucky."

"I know," Devon commented somberly. "I haven't located Jorge."

"He's gotta be here somewhere," Davilla said. "We'd better start looking."

It wasn't long before Danny pulled the semi to a halt in the parking area, the bright high beams and running lights cutting the darkness. A muffled cry came from a clump of scrub just to the right of the concrete building.

"I think I know where Jorge is," Davilla said.

The two hurried over to the source of the sound, and sure enough, there he was. Devon helped Dominguez to stand as Davilla quickly removed the gag and cuffs. Immediately the young man started babbling in Spanish.

"Whoa, son, slow down," Davilla said, trying to calm the honor student. "You're all right. Come on, take a deep breath."

"They were going to kill us!" Dominguez said, reverting to English. "I had to stop them--" Jorge said. "And that thing came back! I couldn't believe it. You saw it, didn't you?"

"Yes, we did, Jorge," Davilla agreed, glancing at Devon. "It'll take a few minutes for him to calm down. It's the same as last time."

"Then I'll leave him in your care. I need to check on some other things," Devon said.

"Certainly," the officer answered.

Devon turned and headed for the mobile unit. Danny had maneuvered the semi in front of the powerless Knight 2000 and by using cables and winches, had pulled the supercar to the bottom of the rear ramp. The machinery growled and groaned as it tugged the heavy car inside the trailer.

"Mr. Miles," Danny said as he jumped down from the cab. "Just received word that Sat-Trak security police are on their way."

"They're a little late," Devon commented acidly. "Did they say anything about the UFO?"

"Not a word."

"And Michael--?"

"I helped April move him into the sleeper. He's still out of it. Last I saw, she was hoverin' I over him like a worried mother."

Devon nodded. Things were falling into place. He just hoped that included Michael and KITT. "I'll go check on them," he said, and climbed up the steps, disappearing through the trailer side entrance. He was tired, but the night was a long way from being over.

He was the Knight 2000, and his friend and partner, KITT, was what he used to be; human, vulnerable to all the dangers in that world. He was being attacked, and Michael had to save him.

"KITT, run!" he yelled.

Once again, he saw his body fall to the ground. Get up, dammit, KITT! Get up! I'm right here! Crawl if you have to, but get inside, he wanted to shoot. And then he was aware of the alien radiation. Oh God, not now! Not now!

"KITT--that thing is back...."

The strange energy saturated him and everything around him. His mechanical body froze; its relays and circuits refusing to function, and it confused him. He tried to scream, but couldn't. He heard something, and then the pain struck him. He felt his very being ripped from the comfortable CPU component housing. The shock and agony threw him into a spin and he felt as if he'd plunged into an ice-cold ocean. The chilling numbness diminished as all sensations teased. He was in the middle of a black void, all alone. The absolute solitude frightened him and panic took control. Suddenly, warmth surrounded him and a familiar presence touched his soul, easing the fear. It had a logic to it that he recognized instantly and a happy, yet sad, feeling swept through him. And then the presence was gone as quickly as it had come.

A throbbing ache pierced the nothingness. Pain? Michael grabbed onto it as though it were a lifeline, trying to pull himself out of the cold, cold waters. Hands touched him and he reached out for them.

His eyes opened, and through the blurry haze he beheld a copper-haloed angel bending over him. Her hands were warm and inviting, and she was speaking, trying to tell him something, but he couldn't understand. "KITT!" he called weakly. The angel's voice was soft and melodic and he stared at her. Slowly the face came into focus. "April?" he mumbled. "April, what are you doing here?" he tried to sit up, but his right arm protested painfully. It hurt like hell and he, lay back on the soft mattress.

"What am I doing here?" she repeated softly. "Making sure you're all right. Now just relax and rest." She replaced his bedcovers and placed her hand on his forehead.

A door creaked and Michael heard someone enter the room. "How is he?" Came Devon's concerned voice.

"He just woke up," she answered, turning to her boss. "His temperature is back to normal. He's groggy, but I think he'll live."

Suddenly it dawned on Michael where he was: the mobile unit's sleeper-lounge. That meant ... he was himself again. A smile played, faintly on his lips as he savored the fact that he was no longer trapped in the Knight 2000's CPU. He could feel, breathe and see again as a human being. But what of KITT? The thought dampened his joy. "April"' Michael asked weakly, "How's KITT?"

"For the third time he'll be okay. Danny's just gotten him into the work shop and I'll take care of him, I promise.''

"I wish Sat-Trak security would arrive soon," Devon put in. "I'd like to get Michael some professional medical attention."

Michael wanted to protest, but fatigue clouded his mind. Instead, he just lay there. These people were his family, and knowing they were there and that they cared gave him a secure feeling. His eyes opened to see them standing close, by, looks of concern on their faces.

"What're ya starin' at?" he asked.

"I told you," April said lightly. "He's back to normal."

Devon smiled, as did April. The beat of helicopter blades sounded and the Englishman's smile turned to a frown.

"It seems the cavalry has come after all," the older man commented dryly. I'd better have a look. I'll be back in a moment."

Michael heard him leave, but said nothing. He was tired, so tired.

"Get some sleep, Michael. I'll be in the next room if you need me," April whispered. She gave him a light peck on the cheek and turned out the 1ight as she left the sleeper. He nestled into the covers and sank quickly into a deep, sweet sleep.

A mid-morning sun warmed 'the air, chasing away the January chill. Michael Knight and Jorge Dominguez marched down the corridor of the Deming-Luna County Courthouse, obviously very happy. Charges against the honor student had been dropped, and that was no surprise to Michael. He was proud of KITT and the way he'd handled the whole messy situation. It had been a week since the incident at Sat-Trak, and Michael had spent those days recuperating in the hospital. He'd had plenty of time to reflect on his experience and still it seemed like a dream. KITT had been under April's loving care and she had made sure Michael's partner was in top shape. In fact, it was just this morning that the computer technician had let him take the Knight 2000 out on the road, and that was only to go to Jorge's hearing.

They reached the building exit and jogged down the short flight of steps leading into the lush green park-like courtyard. A sudden movement of Michael's right arm brought a flash of pain, causing him to grimace. Even wearing the sling, he'd managed to forget about his injury, yet it was a constant reminder to take it easy.

Without a word, the two strolled through the well-tended yard. Michael could feel relief and happiness radiate from the young man beside him.

"We did it," Michael said softly, yet triumphantly. "It took some doing, but we did it!"

"You and the Foundation," Jorge said, smiling. "All I did was get into trouble. I must admit, there were times when I felt like giving up, but I'm glad I didn't. Thanks for helping me."

"Hey, don't mention it! I just wish we could've nailed Rodriguez, but he disappeared."

"He has a habit of doing that. But from what you said, I think he'll be gone for quite some time. At least you got Ortega, that toad," Jorge said.

"I didn't think he'd sing like he did, I guess seeing that UFO made a new man out of him." He paused a moment and looked up at Michael. "What do you think will happen to Miss Short? It's a shame she got mixed up in this. She seemed well-liked in this town."

"People sometimes let greed overtake their common sense," Michael answered. "It's up to the courts to deal with her." They walked down the sidewalk, both enjoying a freedom they had taken for granted. Michael was aware of everything-the greenery, the warmth of the sun, the sweet air. He took a deep breath and looked at the azure sky. "Oh, what a beautiful day! Say, are you hungry? I heard about a great pizza parlor not far from here. We could stop for a bite to eat."

"Michael, it's only ten-thirty in the morning. They wouldn't be open!"

"Oh, well, how about breakfast?"

"I just ate two hours ago," Jorge said, and chuckled. "What's gotten into you?"

"Let's just say I'm happy to be myself--er, to be alive."

Jorge frowned in puzzlement. "I hope that UFO didn't drive you loco. You've been acting very strangely!"

"Well, I really haven't been myself lately, but now I'm feeling just fine." They laughed and continued down the walkway.

"Really, I'd like to join you, but I have to catch a bus back to Las Vegas. I've missed several days of school and I have to get back as soon as possible."

"I knew you'd bring that up," Michael said knowingly. "But don't take the bus. That'll take too long it

"Then how am I supposed to get home? Walk?"

"That's a thought, but maybe your brother and sister-in-law would like to take you along, since they have to return there, too," Michael said matter-of-factly, and turned around. There, standing behind them, were Pedro and Joaquina Dominguez.

Jorge whirled, staring speechless at his kin-folk. His brown eyes shining, he looked at Michael. "They made it," he whispered.

"They made it," he said, and nodded. "Their deposition was all that was needed for the grand jury, but we brought them here anyway." Michael looked at the young Mexican. "Well, aren't you going to say hello?"

Jorge rushed to greet them. Joaquina, of course, gave him a big hug, and he and, his brother slapped each other on the back, all of them talking at once as Michael watched the reunion. Finally, Jorge turned back to him.

"This is too much," he said. "How can I ever repay you?"

"Just become the best damned lawyer Mexico ever saw," Michael said.

They talked a moment longer and then the Dominguezes bid farewell, climbing into a GMC Blazer.

"Don't accept any more rides from spaceships," Michael called as he waved.

"That goes for you, tool, Jorge called back. "Gracias, y adios, mi amigo!" The door slammed and the truck disappeared down the road.

Michael chuckled and looked around the park-like entrance to the red-brick courthouse. He held up the com-link. "Hey, KITT, come meet me out front."

"Right away, Michael," the computer voice responded in a cheerful tone. Moments later, the driverless car pulled around the corner and stopped at the end of the long green hedge alongside the road. Michael leapt behind the control grips and closed the door. Again he moved too fast, jostling his injured arm, and he winced at the pain.

"I see your arm is still bothering you. I'm terribly sorry I let that happen."

"That's okay, pal. It's the sweetest pain I've ever felt."

"Well, it didn't feel 'sweet' to me. It hurt! If you want to talk about emotions, right now I'm feeling relief that we're back where we belong."

"Walk a mile in my shoes!" Michael said and laughed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing, it's just a saying. I also learned a lot being in your place. What I'd like to know is how in the hell you stand all this waiting around. I mean you're either in a parking lot or a garage or the mobile unit if you're not on the road."

"Depending on the time of day, I'll tell you what television show I watch."

Michael leaned back and laughed. "All right, touché, buddy."

'Are-we Just going to sit here or do you have some place you want to go?"

"My, my, we've learned the meaning of impatience," Michael said pointedly. "To ye restaurant, my good KITT!"

"Restaurant?" KITT questioned as he pulled away from the curb. 'You just ate two hours ago. You're going to become obese if you don't control this sudden increase of appetite."

"Right now, I feel like I could eat a horse."

'Michael, why would you want to eat a--?"

"It's just a saying," Michael said, cutting him off. He looked at the vox-box, smiling wickedly. "I guess our little turnabout has made me appreciate a lot of things I used to take for granted. The air, the scenery, food--pretty women!"

"If you ask me, you can have the women! What happened in that hotel elevator was very embarrassing. I'd just as soon forget that incident ever occurred."

"Aww, you mean that one little encounter spoiled the whole experience for you?"

"No, all those sensations confused me. You have an extremely sensitive nervous system that's quite responsive. I didn't know what to think or do." KITT paused a moment. "After this, you can have your biology. I'll stick to logarithms."

Michael snickered and looked at KITT's vox-box as he leaned back in the driver's seat. Casually he glanced out the window. "Ah, what a beautiful day."

"You'd say that if it was raining! By the way, April's calling."

Michael sat up and punched a series of buttons. The familiar geometric pattern on KITT's primary video screen coalesced into a picture of April Curtis at the CRT. "Yo, April!"

"Good morning, Michael," she said politely. Her speech sounded odd, and he couldn't figure out what was wrong with it. "I trust everything went well in court?"

"Absolutely super!"

"Good. I want you to proceed immediately to the intersection of Highway 180 and Interstate 10. We'll pick you up there."

"Sure. Uh, April, is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, no!" she answered nervously. "Devon and I have something to discuss with you. Since we have to head back to Los Angeles, I thought we could get the necessary paperwork done before we reach home. See you in a bit," she said and quickly signed off.

"Hey, wait a minute! Let me talk to Devon!" He stared at the empty screen. "Damn," he said, and pounded his fist on the steering control.

"Michael, please!"

"Sorry, pal. Better take us to where she said," he muttered, and then looked slyly at the vox-box. "Duty calls."

"I wish you wouldn't use that particular phrase," KITT said as he turned and headed for the highway.
Moments later, they approached the huge black semi. The ramp lowered, dragging on the pavement, sending orange sparks flying. The sleek black car hit its mark, expertly sailing inside the trailer. Slowly the ramp retracted, hiding the semi's contents.

Michael got out of the car, and there sat Devon and April. Both stood as he rounded the front of KITT's fender. "Devon, what's going on? Is this about another case?"

April cleared her throat. "Um, Michael, I'm over here."

"What?" ' He whirled to face the woman.

"That's right," Devon said. "You see, I'm really April--but in Devon's body." He pointed to the computer technician. "He's over there."

"Oh, no!" Michael sank onto KITT's hood.

"We didn't want to tell you this had happened until this case was closed." April said, looking at the floor. "But now, it's imperative we do something about this situation. We can't possibly function at the Foundation in this condition."

"Michael, my bio-scanners are picking up--"

"Not now, KITT!" he said, cutting off the computer. "I have to think. There has to be an easier solution to this problem than KITT and I found. There has to be a way." Michael stared at the floor in concentration. The more he thought about what these two had told him, the funnier it got, and he started to snicker.

"I don't see what's so funny!" Devon said.

"I'm sorry," Michael said as he lost all control. "But the thought of you--" he pointed to Devon and then to April. "--and you being switched...."

"Be serious! We have to reverse this situation, and soon!" April snapped irritably.

"Okay, okay--let's see," he said, forcing his amusement aside. "We could go back to Sat-Trak. Maybe that spaceship might come back--"

"Michael."

"What? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Yes, but if you'll listen to me, I believe r can solve this problem. My bioscanners indicate Devon's and April's blood pressure, heart rates and perspiration rates are all elevated. If what they say is true, wouldn't their physiological responses be normal?"

"KITT that will be enough!" April said, and then covered her mouth. Her phony English accent had disappeared.

Michael's mouth dropped open, and then he frowned. "You guys were pulling my leg!"

Devon broke out laughing and April joined in.

"Well, we had him going for while, my dear," Devon managed to say. "I'm sorry, Michael, but we couldn't resist this opportunity."

"And you should've seen your face," April giggled. "I wish I had a picture."
"I have it on video," KITT offered.

"You stay outta this," Michael snapped, and then turned, mustering a fierce look of anger. "Funny, very funny, but you'll pay for this!" He advanced on his associates in mock anger.

Both Devon and April backed away defensively. "Now, Michael, remember your arm. You can take a joke, can't you?" Devon said, trying to fend off a laughing Michael.

"Humans! I got to be in your world for a short while and I still don't understand you," KITT said in disgust.