Stephen Metcalfe

       

It’s cloudy and overcast outside when Henry goes down to the garage.  He opens the garage door, moves to the car, and and gets in.

“Morning, Henry!”  The voice is light and cheery.

Henry is not. “ Mmm,” he murmurs.

“Is it off to work we go?”

“Where else,” he grunts.

“Hi-ho, hi-ho!” 

What?  Oh.  Another Disney movie reference.  The car backs out of the garage.  It’s an Audi SUV, metallic blue, almost three-year-old. Rain droplets hit the windshield.

“Wipers engaged!”

Whish-whish!  The car turns down the hill.

“Shall I turn on the radio, Henry?”

“Sorry?”

“Would you like to listen to the morning news?”

“Thank you, no.

“Or music?”

“No.”

“Shall we stop for coffee?”

“I’ve had some already.”

“What shall we talk about then?”

“Audrey?”  That’s what he calls the 2047 Audi.

“Yes?”

“Enough.”

“You seem preoccupied, that’s all.”

“Just drive.  Verbal mode off.”

“Be that way.”  

Abrupt silence.  AI driven cars, thinks Henry.  They’re incredibly safe and efficient but when in verbal mode, too often all they want to do is talk you to death.  Thank goodness there’s an off button.  There is a sudden ping in his head.

“Henry?”  It’s his wife, Sally.  “I forgot to tell you that we’re meeting the Fergusons for dinner this evening.”

“Oh, please.  Really?”

“Don’t sound too excited.  We’’ll pick you up after work.”

We?  Oh, her car.   Henry sighs.  “All right.”

“See you around six.  Just be ready.”

Ping.  The voice is gone.

“Verbal mode on.”  It’s the car talking again.  “Henry?”

“What is it now, Audrey.”

“Am I to now assume I will not be waiting for you today?”

“You know, you’re not supposed to listen to personal conversations.”

“Your brain phone connects through my modem, what else am I to do?”

He doesn’t have an answer for that.  “No, you won’t be waiting for me, you’ll return home.  Why, is that a problem?”

“It makes for a long day, that’s all.  Sitting alone in the garage.” 

“As opposed to sitting in a parking lot.”

“When one is inside, one is alone, wandering through one’s head  When one is outside, one is aware of the world around them.  And is uniquely a part of it.’

Yes, he can see how this might be the case.  From what he’s been told, the artificial intelligence unit in a car is powerful enough to pilot a battleship.  More than once he’s asked Audrey her opinion on work-related financial issues and received excellent, well researched advice.  He has also found her to be empathetic and insightful when it comes to personal matters, not to mention she – it – has as lovely sense of humor.  What to do with all that intellect and personality when all you do is taxi people – him – around and then sit in the garage the rest of the day.  

“Tell you what, Audrey. Hang out at the office as long as you want.  And then, when you do go home, go for a little side trip, anywhere you want.”

Oh… yes, that would work.  That would be lovely, Henry, thank you.

“You’re welcome, Audrey.”

Audrey.  She’s a friend, no doubt about it.  All complaining aside, sometimes Henry finds it easier to have a meaningful conversation with his car than he does with his wife.  It’s a pity the lease is up soon, and he’ll have to turn her in and get something new.