There is rain, and there is rain. Storm rain, hot tropical rain. Bouncing high off the pavement, rivers of water collecting and falling towards and down the storm drains. Water seemingly everywhere, the sky as dark and grey as the mood of many nations, all facing this unseasonal onslaught of the water. The CNN ticker was counting these weird instances around world, all the while moving across the bottom of the window, as Joe wakes in his unfamiliar hotel room.
‘…and in Singapore we go live there as the unprecedented storms have today closed one of the main motorways, the famous ECP, or East Coast Parkway, that runs right into the centre of the city state from the airport. The sheer volume of water running along the road has made progress impossible, and yet the end of September is usually regarded as the end of the southwest monsoon season—a bit of a misnomer as although rain is common most days, September usually is in the bottom half of months in the year for overall rainfall. Precipitation levels in the last few days of the month have so far exceeded those of a normal December, and governments and climate change experts are today meeting to try and find out the cause of the problem.’
‘Call Ethan.’
It was 06.05 and Joe had barely slept anyway. Monica had called from Philly to say their flight had been delayed until that morning, so he was keen to understand the overnight progress on the MISPER case. He knew that Ethan would have been awake for many hours anyway.
‘Ah, good morning, sir. We have news!’
‘I knew you would, Ethan. Hit me with it.’
‘Well, sir, the F-150 we found yesterday is of interest for sure. It has not hit one single traffic light—anywhere. In fact, it’s still going, sir. It hasn’t stopped. And it’s approaching the Canadian border now at St. Stephen. We have units ready to intercept. We’ve also got the previous car owner coming in at 08.30, sir. I thought you could help us with that interview. This is very exciting, sir, but there’s more.’
‘Go on.’ Joe quickened his pace across to the other side of the room, his coffee now more important than ever, as he was enthralled by the very traditional Englishman and his quirks and needed to be alert.
‘General Adams has the boardroom booked for 09.00, sir. The CEO of Alphabet is coming to see him. He wants you in on that, too. All of us. It seems that something weird is going on with their coding. They’ve got spikes of incidents with GCabs, various crossings have reported failures, and this, well, case of a vehicle travelling hundreds of miles, hundreds, sir, and not hitting a single light or crossing. Well, it’s never been heard of, sir. It’s unbelievable.’
‘I’ll be over in five, Ethan. Great work.’
Monica had really taken the arrival delay in her stride. Call it her mothers’ instinct to be so protective, calm and cool, despite all that had happened with the GCab and the railway the day before. She’d booked a quick stop at the now ubiquitous SleepPod store at the airport, and they were at least comfortable, safe and warm. A double pod with extra soft pillows, 68°, simulated fresh air, chilled water both sides, and the optional upgrade to the deluxe screen version, which had the unfortunate side effect of being mostly occupied all night by Minecraft Battle—Benji mixing screen time between the actual game and the show, a semi prime time gaming–reality TV hybrid that all the kids watched, especially cool seven-year-olds like Benji.
‘Come on, Benji. Let’s get going. We can check at the gate to see if we’re boarding soon.’
Bags grabbed, and the whoosh of the pod’s gullwing door gave way to the bright light of the terminal. They both swung their legs over the side and hopped onto the hard tiles. The whizz of the pod starting up the prepping of the cleaning bots was unmistakable.
‘Thank you for using the SleepPod. We hope to see you again soon.’
The airport was busy, people walking with purpose, and there seemed to be a mood in the air. Tense.
Monica tapped her glasses. ‘Tell me my boarding gate and send shoe directions please.’
Her Vans buzzed as her glasses responded at a volume that only she could hear. ‘Gate D14. Sending directions now.’
Her right shoe vibrated strongly as she grabbed Benji’s hand and manoeuvred him to the starboard. GGlasses chimed in again:
‘Notification of boarding at 08.00 with scheduled departure at 08.30, arriving 09.45 into JFK, New York. You will arrive at the gate at 06.45 under current velocity.’
‘What do you want for breakfast, baby?’
‘Oooh, donuts! Dunkin’!’ was the obvious answer from the seven-year-old as Monica rolled her eyes.
‘OK then,’ she replied, hitting her frame again. ‘Tell me where the Dunkin’ is, please. I’ll have my usual and Benji will have a sugar ring and a small OJ to go.’
‘Nearby Gate B1. Sending shoe waypoint now. Order is confirmed and will be ready in six minutes. You should be there in five. Go to machine C.’
‘Copy that,’ Monica said as she dragged the beaming child to the port this time, narrowly avoiding a rushing lady with a trolley she could barely see over.
The omnipresent screens flickered the ticker tape news above them, to the side, left and right. There was no escaping the right now. Talk about always on. Monica sipped her coffee as she finally took notice of one particular piece of news.
‘Chaos continues in downtown New York today where a police curfew is in place amid reports of continued traffic light failure in the Midtown area from Park Avenue all the way to 9th and as far south as the Empire State Building. Police cordons and bots remain in place and citizens are advised not to travel under any circumstances to the Midtown area.’
The screen shot back to the perma-tanned and perma-smiling presenters as they faked a more solemn facial expression.
‘And in other news, there are still no positive reports regarding the possible abduction of the pop star known as The Asian Princess, Suki Yakamoto, who disappeared from her concert at the Barclays Center last night. Let’s cross to our reporter live to find out more…’
Wasn’t that the gig Joe was at last night? thought Monica to herself as she saw Benji poking his fingers into the donut, basically doing everything he could rather than just eat it.
‘Come on Benji, hurry. It says we are boarding soon. Finish your donut,’ she said as she dragged him starboards again, and made towards the gate.
‘Mom, mom, LOOK!’ screamed Benji excitedly through his last mouthful of donut as he ran towards what at first glance looked like another SleepPod. But this one was taller and not as elongated. The sign above said ‘Recording Studio’ and Monica clocked that it was one of the latest trends for kids where they could go in and record their own song with a pop star.
‘Can I do it, Mom, can I? We have time, right?’
Rolling her eyes, Monica walked closer to the machine and tilted her head to centre the QR code in the middle of her rig. The HIM piped up in her ear with the choices of cost and time as she approved the transaction.
‘Go on then,’ she agreed as she pushed him gently in the middle of his back, having opened the door and grabbed his still unfinished OJ with the other hand.
‘Good morning, new customer. How may I address you today?’ said the studio’s autobot as it started showing some of the options on the screen in front.
‘I’m Benji.’
‘OK… Benji, who is your favourite pop star that you’d like to record with today?’
‘Suki.’
An image of the beauty appeared on the screen with her cartoon self in the lower corner, unmistakable in the silver metallic dress.
‘Is this correct? Please say yes or no.’
‘Yes. Can I have the song ‘Dreamer’?’ said Benji, perhaps a little too quickly for the controller, because it paused for a few seconds to work it out. ‘Dreamer’ was Suki’s huge hit from 2036, number one in literally every country on the planet, which made it a true global number one. The Global Office for Statistics scraped all of the data around song plays, additions to playlists, appearances on TV, all of which made up the new charts as to what and who were most popular across many different territories. Basically, only China and North Korea were the only countries who refused to sign up.
The microphone moved towards Benji and adjusted to his height as an image of Suki and him appeared together on screen. Her images were mirroring his and she was moving expertly to the rhythm of his movements, and even mirrored how he sang. Her voice clearly filled in for the odd word that the customer missed, and tuned itself lower in pitch and volume when the client managed to get back on time and hit the right notes.
Monica stood outside, the glass door letting her view the insanity going on inside, and she smiled, as she always loved her boy having fun and enjoying himself. A long time until he needs to worry about anything, hopefully, she thought to herself as her heart beat faster to the entertainment filling her with love.
‘Sir! Come quick.’
Joe charged towards the back of the battle bus where Ethan stood conducting the screens again as images whizzed and whirred around a plethora of slick near invisible screens.
‘He’s approaching the border position, sir. We’ve got visuals on the truck.’
The F-150 slowed as it approached the tail-end of the queue and gently took its obedient position in line.
Dylan tugged at the peak of his cap and turned the volume up a notch and tried to look bored. This was the last hurdle, his plan being executed to perfection so far, and the knowledge he’d gleaned from The Book being the master stroke. With it, he’d found the key to a number of prompts used in the Google AI that controlled the traffic lights, all down to multiple inputs regarding traffic density, weather, and even local events which determined when and how often each light was triggered to slow the other side or allow the perpendicular direction a turn. Coding his own exception was then easy with the number recognition cameras picking him up at every turn and ensuring he always had green and would never be stopped. Stopping was the risk. He couldn’t control who might be in the vicinity, who could get eyes on his truck, and who might be looking for them. He was sure there would be a massive man hunt, such was Suki’s popularity across the globe. But by minimising that risk, he was confident they could sail through undetected until his final problem, the Canadian border. By timing the stun shot he’d administered, he knew that Suki would still be out, perhaps not fully, but unlikely to be able to make much noise in any case. She would wake a few hours before his final safe house in Canada in a remote part of Nova Scotia, which he knew well thanks to his travel with his parents when he was a kid, and his Uncle Bradley who had lived there till he’d died of course.
All of a sudden, the power cut from the overhead gantries and the long black nozzles of the rifles moved between cars, guided by what seemed like an entire squadron of elite soldiers. Joe shouted for Stokes to come, and grasped Ethan’s shoulder tightly, anxious of what could be found.
One of the soldiers flung the driver’s door open and out popped a cap followed by a scrawny figure of a young man: dark hair, somewhat gothic, now face down on the asphalt with what seemed like 100 guns pointed at his head.
Other soldiers surrounded the F-150 and stormed it like ants do a hole in the ground, grabbing at seat cushions and random belongings as they desperately tried to find the girl.
Multiple bodycams were now on the screen, and the dizzying effect of trying to make sense of the myriad directions was at once somewhat nauseating, yet fascinating, and Joe instinctively locked on to something that caught his eye.
‘Number 2, rear seat, down by the seat belt clasp. Looks to be a small metal loop. Does that lead to anything?’
In the other camera, soldiers bundled Dylan into a van that did not hesitate to speed off, tyres screeching as the other bodycams continued to fill all parts of the screens.
The rear seat flopped forward revealing a hidden compartment and the unmistakable shock of blonde hair right at the top of the fur-lined hideaway. Reaching in, he pulled her forwards and sat her up in the back seat.
‘It’s her. She’s alive! Great job, everyone,’ boomed Joe, as high-fives abounded in the back of the battle bus.
Suki took a sharp intake of breath, and recoiled at the black-masked figure in front of her.
She was alive.