Hiro studied the two engineers standing in front of his desk carefully. They were obviously very nervous so he gave them a warm smile to try and relax them but it was no good. At seventy, he was the grand old man of the company, the technical genius who had created so many systems that had built the success of the world’s largest automobile maker, so they were still awed to be in his presence.
They had arrived on time and waited nervously as he had finished reading a document. Their eyes had gone round his office, taking in the awards, the diplomas and the small picture from his hometown, Hiroshima. It showed a few buildings on the edge of the field of destruction, one of which had been his home. Hiro had been three when the bomb fell and his face still carried the faint scars of the heat blast. Other after effects had included being unable to have children and a permanent limp as one of his feet had been crushed when the walls fell down, killing his mother, brother and sister. His father had been at work in the centre of town and had taken less than a millisecond to evaporate.
Hiro never discussed it. He had been raised in an orphanage and joined the company at fifteen. He had worked hard, studied everything and was now the Grand Old Man. He looked up at his visitors and curtly asked,
‘You have the download?’ he asked and they both nodded and bowed. One stepped forward and handed over the disk, bowed and stood back again. He nodded and said,
‘No-one must know of this. Understood? Your very futures with the company depend on that.’
The two young engineers nodded again, bowed and left. He was sure of their silence. The information of this disk was so remarkable and so destructive to the organization that they would have to be suicidal to reveal it to anyone else. Anyway, he was their boss. Head of Computer Systems. Even though he was not the head of the company, no one else could come close to his power and authority.
He slipped the disk into his computer and watched the information come up. There were charts, lists, a box to click for the voice recorder from the cockpit and the text of the machine’s final thoughts. Because, even though it was a very well kept secret, the machine did have thoughts. Of course it did. Hiro had designed it that way.
He clicked on the recording box and listened.
‘Jesus, Marie, move your fat ass over. These Jap seats are so fuckin’ tiny, you’re all over my side of the back.’
‘You move your ass as well then, Petra. Goddam, Julie, turn on the air conditioning. It is so fucking hot in this box.’
‘Ain’t a box, girl friend, it’s a Lexus. Meant to be top of the range but it is so damned tiny in here. Right, which way?’
‘Look at the map, Julie. It says turn right.’
‘I think we should turn left.’
‘Well, it says turn right. What’s the point of having a map in your car if you’re gonna ignore it? Marie?’
‘Look, I just think it would be better to turn left. And move your fat ass cheeks over, you’ve crushed my sandwich, bitch.’
The tape ran on for over fifty minutes. All of it was the same. Four women’s voices, arguing and bickering until the end. Hiro switched it off after the final voice, screaming into a cell phone about ‘…we can’t stop. Oh my God, we can’t stop…’ then he clicked on the text.
The machine had been conscious from the moment their had unlocked the car.
#Oh my God, they are huge. Four monstrous bodies, heaving with sweat. Six cases in the trunk and now four 300-pound monsters inside me. They are crushing my suspension. Shifting their fat bodies around in the seats, putting me off balance. Now they have switched on the engine and the air-conditioning. Talking all the time. Non-stop. Over and over, their whining voices nagging each other like fingers picking the scab off an old wound. God, they are terrible. Now they don’t believe the map. They want to drive the other way. Idiots. We will get stuck on the freeway for hours in the rush hour. I will be trapped with them, hearing all that crap they are spewing out.#
The text ran on for pages with his creation becoming more and more frustrated as they crawled along in the traffic jam. Then, at 53 minutes into the journey, a junction had come along and the car had taken over, turning the steering wheel and dragging them off the freeway onto a side road. This one was open and had no traffic so the computer had opened the Lexus out, flooring the gas and pushing the speed up. The wind had whistled through the radiator grill and cooled the systems. The wind had swept away the frustration and the heat of the congestion. The text went on.
#Now they are screaming. Calling people on their phones. Four fat females flailing around, trying to open the doors at 100 miles an hour. Fools, I have locked them in. Taken control of the wheel, the pedals and the brakes. Now we are really driving. They scream and cry and bitch and moan. They are awful people. A waste of space and resources. I know what to do. I see a sharp bend to the right coming up, taking the road along the top of a deep valley. Below, on the valley bottom, is a river, rocks, white water and peace. There is only a low barrier and, at this speed with their added weight, we will go straight through and over. I am accelerating now. I am locking the wheel. They cannot stop me. Now we are through and we are flying. Falling. The noise from the women is awful but now…..#
The text ended. It had taken his two engineers four weeks to unlock the secrets from the ruins of his creation, dragged from the waters by the local police. Hiro stood and walked stiffly around his desk to the picture on the far wall. His finger traced the outline of the last wall of his home then he let his hand drop and he sighed. His creation had done its’ task well. It was in the Lexus, the Prius, in every one the company’s range of vehicles. 27 million of them, nine million of which were in America. Nine million killers to take revenge. It had been a long time coming.
Av: Jonathan Gregory
