The Passengers(3)

Harsh lighting above the mirror reflected from his scalp and emphasised how thin the hair was becoming around his temples. He’d recently begun keeping it cropped rather than trying to style and hide it. He remembered his father warning him and his brother that he had begun receding by his thirtieth birthday, and Jude was following suit. His friends took medication to keep their hair in place; Jude rejected it along with all popular cosmetic alterations. He hadn’t even fixed the two bottom teeth that leaned against one another, which meant he always smiled with closed lips.

It had been the best part of a week since he’d last run a razor across his face and it made his olive complexion appear darker. Despite his fatigue, the whites of his eyes remained bright and made his green irises resemble the colour of ripe apples. He placed the palms of his hands on his T-shirt and traced the outline of his stomach and ribs with his fingers. He was aware of the weight he’d lost over the last month and blamed the pressure on all that needed to be organised for this day to be a success.

He looked to his wrist for the time, forgetting he had long discarded his watch. It had gathered details from his pulse and temperature to reveal his metabolism, blood pressure and many other diagnoses he didn’t care to be informed about. He didn’t need to read the digits on a display to know his stress levels were soaring.

Jude returned to his car and, once satisfied the battery was now full, he unplugged the charger and took the first of a handful of deep breaths before climbing inside and informing the vehicle’s voice-activated operating system of his next destination.

The car began cruising the suburban roads at no more than twenty-five miles an hour, as Jude recalled how much he used to enjoy being in sole control of a vehicle. He’d passed his driving test on his seventeenth birthday and, at the time, it had felt like the greatest achievement in the world, giving him the freedom he’d craved. He could leave at will the confines of the village in which he was born and raised. He was no longer reliant on irregular bus timetables, his parents or older brother to give him glimpses of the outside world. It didn’t sit comfortably with him that, nowadays, children of fourteen were Passengers in fully autonomous vehicles. It was as if they were cheating.

Jude also remembered a time when roads like these were to be avoided at that time of the morning. They used to be gridlocked with rush hour, bumper-to-bumper traffic. Now, cars glided smoothly through the streets, conversing with each other through a network of internal communication systems to reduce bottlenecks and congestion. As much as he resented these cars, there were some benefits to having one.

Much of his dashboard was taken up by a soundbar and large interactive OLED screen in which he could control everything from his choice of television viewing to emails, social media, and reading material. He scrolled downwards until he located a blue folder labelled Family Holidays. Inside, he checked a subfolder which read ‘Greece’ and a selection of videos appeared. He opted for the one titled ‘Restaurant’ and clicked play.

The super high-definition picture was so crystal clear it was like he was there, relaxing on a restaurant terrace’s lounger, lying by Stephenie’s side and wrapped in a warm jumper as they enjoyed the setting sun over the vast vista. The camera panned slowly from left to right, zooming over the crescent bay and uninhabited islands ahead. The few clouds above them were illuminated with blues and oranges but cast the islands in shadows.

‘Can you see the boat in the distance?’ he heard her ask. ‘Over there, behind the island. The stern is just poking out.’

‘Ah yes, I see it now,’ Jude repeated aloud and over the recorded voice. He knew it off by heart and silently mouthed her reply too. ‘One day we should book a trip on a round-the-world cruise ship,’ she said. ‘Then we can spend our retirement seeing the sun set from every ocean and every continent. How does that sound?’

‘Perfect,’ Jude replied. ‘Just perfect.’ It was only in recent years that he understood perfect was an impossible concept.

He closed the folder and used the screen to turn down the car’s temperature. The spring morning was proving warmer than weather forecasters predicted. However, the display remained at a stubborn twenty-seven degrees.

‘Car,’ he began, not having personalised his operating system by giving it a name like most owners, ‘turn on the air con.’

Nothing happened. The vehicle typically obeyed each task asked of it and his was the only voice it was programmed to recognise. ‘Car,’ he repeated more firmly, ‘acknowledge my request.’ Again there was nothing.

He cursed the software glitch and rolled up his shirtsleeves instead. Then, removing a wireless keyboard from the side pocket of the door, he logged on and began to compose an email. He chose to type it, preferring the old-fashioned means rather than dictating it or sending it via a videogram.

‘Dear all,’ he began, ‘apologies for the impersonal nature of this email but …’

‘Good morning, Jude.’

‘Shit!’ Jude blurted out loud and dropped his keyboard into the footwell. He looked around his vehicle as if he were expecting to find a second Passenger hiding.

‘How are you today?’ the voice continued.

‘Good … thanks,’ Jude replied. ‘Who is this and how did you get my number?’ He examined the phone icon on the screen but it was switched off.

‘I need you to listen carefully, Jude,’ the voice continued calmly. ‘In approximately two and a half hours’ time, you are going to die.’