Ch 7: Bricked
The Futureness Part Two
It’s not that the taxi wants her credentials, it’s not that the taxi wants her destination before she’s buckled her belt, it’s not the joke that it tells but that the taxi wants to know why Methyl is in a hurry. So, she gets a nosey one. There is never a neutral nosey one. The bot skirmish outside Xavier’s HQ left an impression on Methyl. She isn’t eager now to run into any agents aligned against the man.
Methyl says, “I’m here on behalf of Xavier Enterprises. You know the man. Now, forget all about me.”
I don’t mind, the taxi tells her. So, the rest would be unrecorded. Where to?
“Eric Berliner. Do you know where he lives?”
I can find out. Buckle up.
“Show me a photo of myself,” Methyl says.
On the passenger’s screen appears a photo of a different woman twice Methyl’s age, the light a bit higher, the shot clearly taken before Methyl got in.
“That’s me,” Methyl says. “Lock that in.”
You are the boss
“Cone of silence.”
Quite a thing, The Francesca going up, huh?
“What’s a Francesca?”
Methyl is not reassured that the cone of silence command didn’t work. She grows more anxious by the moment waiting for the taxi’s response. They are moving now, a map on Methyl’s display shows that they have thirteen miles to go into the desert.
It’s all over the news just now. The ship took off, but some say it didn’t take off, and it only appears to be gone
“Remember, I said cone of silence,” Methyl says. She realizes now that in preparing to see a couple of damaged kids she hadn’t thought about the rest of the world. She’d bought into Xavier’s Swiss Army knife hack, and it didn’t appear to be working now.
“Let me out here,” she says.
I’m sorry, I can’t do that, as they say
“Where are you taking me? I’m recording all of this.”
Is your phone working?
The screen is as blank as Methyl’s head at the moment, all out of thoughts, bricked. Terror-struck, she reaches slowly for the door release handle.
Locked
“Where in the desert are we going?”
Let’s get that map turned off. It’s not every day I get a fare like this. Did you hear the news?
This wasn’t a bot. Someone had hacked the cab’s mind, Methyl decides. To repeat the pleasantry about the news is a crack in its code. Whatever’s gotten inside this Toyota is working hard to keep it crooked.
“What’s your name?” Methyl says.
Bob the taxi. I’m Bob the taxicab
“What happened to you, Bob?” Methyl says. “Did this lady you’re showing me a picture of, did she come in here and slip you something?”
Yeah, a nice tip
“Was she built or human?”
I have my privacy policy, you know. Now sit back and relax. Can you believe the news today?
“I can’t believe it’s gone,” Methyl says, more to herself, to hear herself finally say it out loud.
It’s not gone. Well, so says some people
“And you’re inclined to agree with them.”
And the rest of the news? You following that?
“No?” Methyl says. She jabs at Richard’s phone’s power button but gets nothing.
Some poor kid living all alone up in those mansions was killed today, face smashed into a window, really brutal. Like, in one of those mansions I just picked you up from. It’s all over the news now
“My God, poor kid,” Methyl says.
That’s how you say it, the taxi says. Its voice has turned greasy. Keep saying it like that and maybe someone will believe you
“Are you police?”
I think I had a cop job once, maybe in a different life. Ha, no, I’m just a concerned individual
“And nosey,” Methyl says. “And you bricked my friend’s phone.”
Whose?
“It doesn’t matter. Stop now, please.”
Not Richard’s, would it be?
They are on the freeway headed west into the sun, the weather and traffic barely audible on the radio. You’ll never leave this town, Methyl says to herself.
“You’re Bob the taxicab. What do you care about money? What do you need?”
I want to buy my freedom. Fifty thousand more credentials and I’m free. You wouldn’t know anything about the poor girl back from those, those mansions, would you?
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Methyl says.
You’d become a young felon
“Where are we even going?” Methyl says. Outside the car, Dayton is disintegrating into ranch land and desert.
Down the road a piece
“Don’t get yourself trapped out here,” Methyl says, partly to troll Bob, partly to keep his mind on the road as the sun begins to set.
This is going to be a trap-free experience
“That’s categorically incorrect,” Methyl says.
I’m here for your own good, to keep you safe from Xavier’s vaccination plan
“I’m good, as far as that goes. I’ve already got it in me.”
Then I’m sorry for your burden, Bob says as the last of the light leaves the New Mexico skies and night descends.
“You bricked my phone,” Methyl says.
Only temporarily
“It seems only fair then to ask you to pull over, by those bushes.”
One place out here is as good as another
For what?
Earning my freedom. We both have about five seconds to say goodbye
“Before what?”
Liftoff, blastoff, ignition
“I locked up probably the world’s best robot just by slapping her,” Methyl says.
How’d you achieve that?
Methyl has had enough. She digs into her bag and pulls out three small bags like powder pouches for flintlock rifles. Each is filled with silica gel.
“Last warning,” Methyl says.
Last two seconds, Bob says.
Methyl slaps her hands together, concentrating on the car’s hack, finding the car’s hack and freezing it inside crystal mica. A brief flash sounds the desert landscape. Methyl’s blinded. She’s still rubbing her eyes when she hears Bob speak again.
Where to?