She’d learned a little about the way the car worked, but it was all basic stuff that Driverless didn’t mind the public knowing. Even on shady dark web boards, actual hard data on Autonomous was limited to things like seats, lights, climate control, the entertainment system, and a bit about LIDAR road-sensing capabilities.
“I’ve never been part of a selfie from the other side of the country before,” Patricia Ming-Waller said. “I hope my head doesn’t look too big.” She paused as if waiting for laughter. Christina studied the woman’s face for hints of the uncanny valley effect. Before the doomed spaceflight, Ming-Waller had spent weeks leaving her neural imprint with the team at the Driverless X facility in Flagstaff, just in case. When Ming-Waller’s thought patterns reemerged as a construct two months after the tragedy, the Driverless board of directors had voted eight to three in favor of keeping her on as CEO.
Christina could barely detect a hint of artificiality in Ming-Waller’s face and voice, but there was definitely something wrong with her eyes.
“What I really want to thank you for is this: you’re helping to make the world’s roads a better place. More fun, more efficient, and most importantly, much, much safer. Your trip will be instrumental in helping us fine-tune the experience, so that by the time we’re ready to go to market with Autonomous, it will be the world’s safest and most enjoyable mode of transportation, far more sophisticated than any other self-driving car on the road.”
Christina glanced at Melissa. She was focused intently on her phone, most likely posting that selfie to multiple feeds and replying to her followers’ immediate reactions. Meanwhile, words from Patricia Ming-Waller’s giant mouth boomed from the surround-sound speakers. The reception was perfect, the picture crisp and glitch-free.
“We’re on the cusp of a revolution in the way people get from one place to another, a great leap forward in automotive evolution that could alter the way we live and work, the way cities and towns are designed. The very map of the world itself.”
The car was alarmingly clean. It was like sitting in a rolling quarantine bubble, all bacteria and microscopic dirt vaporized on sight. For once, Christina didn’t have that gnawing urge to tidy up, which made her a little anxious, like she was forgetting something. She vowed to find a way to enjoy it. It would be good normal-person practice for college.
She still had to fight not to scratch her head.
Ming-Waller continued, her eyes misting as she moved from one dreamy pronouncement to another.
“But of course, that’s only one possible outcome among infinite potential futures.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, everyone. This is supposed to be a vacation, not a lecture on string theory.” She paused again for laughter that never came. Christina crossed her legs, and the seat responded accordingly. “To the fun part, then. Welcome to the very first Autonomous Road Trip Adventure. Driverless will be selling similar experiences to the public. But you’re getting to do it for free—think of yourselves as flying first class before anybody else in the entire world even finds out what ‘first class’ truly is. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll relinquish control of the vehicle and recall our drone. The car’s operation will be entirely in your hands—and your minds. It will instantly sync with your phones and get to know your online personas via everything you’ve ever posted. It will learn who you are and what you want. In a microsecond, it will create the most optimum route across the country to the Moonshadow Festival, calibrated for your maximum collective enjoyment. In other words, the car will program itself to bring you to the locations best suited to your personalities. Major cities, mountaintops, deserts, lakes, things that you might not even find on the map—Autonomous will take you into the heart of America by uncovering exactly what is in your hearts.”
“What if we don’t like what’s in our hearts?” Christina asked.
Patricia Ming-Waller’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I understand.”
William tapped her thigh. “Just let her finish so we can drive this thing.”
“I mean, what if we don’t want to go to the places the car picks out for us?”
“Ah,” Patricia said. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear. When you arrive at a location, there simply won’t be any place you’d rather be. We’ve simulated over three million hours of life-synced travel. The car is very, very good at what it does.”
“So we’re not actually driving it, then.”
“As I said, when I sign off here, Autonomous will come fully online and its control will be in your hands. It will respond to voice commands to regulate its speed, to pass other vehicles on the highway, and anything else you might want it to do in the course of a normal driving day. However—and this is very important—the commands ‘stop’ and ‘go’ must be texted to the car, by using this number: 99 88 77.”
“That’s only six digits,” Melissa pointed out.
“It’s the phone number of a car,” Daniel said. “It can be whatever they want it to be.”
“And of course,” Patricia continued, “the car will prioritize safety above all else. It will override your command if it senses the command will put you at risk.”
“So we can tell it to go wherever we want it to go,” Christina said.
Ming-Waller’s giant head swiveled so that her eyes bored into Christina’s.
“You are in control,” she said. “Interpret that any way you like, but remember that the car knows where you want to go and the best way to get there. If the four of you constantly try to second-guess the life sync, your trip will be
