The First - You are free to go
He felt a pull on his neck. Felt his ears go tight, trying to draw back in alert.
Then he heard the humming and a spinning, whistling sound. But no over-ride.
He was being pulled over. Unusual since all vehicles hadn’t needed drivers in many years. So who to police? Passengers and drivers had become the same and could interact, face each other or their screens as they pleased. Take me home or take me anywhere. Voice control, pre-program, surprise-me program. Pattern program. No accidents. All traffic stripped of random motion. No human touch. So, just Officers of the Peace were left. But not this one.
Still, he self-guided his vehicle over and commanded the window down.
Evening, sir. Nice night. Friendly voice. Even friendlier, holographic face. Handsome. He didn’t attach anything to the vehicle. There was no systems over-ride tone.
Yes indeed.
This part of the city is pretty at night. The holograph looked away, smiled.
Yes, it is. He could feel the eager hum of the engine. He could smell a recent wet rain covering on the road. He smelled also the electronic, calm presence. He breathed deeply.
You are fully manual tonight. He said it, not asked it.
Yes, feels… yes. The steering system pulsed under his palms and fingers. A chill ran through his body.
Just a caution that it might, it will feel, new. What did he mean by that? Was he being cited or what? The officer went around the vehicle, came back to the window and smiled.
You are free to go. You are the first.
He left the window down and watched the officer fade into a wisp in his rear monitor. He snaked his way back into traffic. He took another deep breath and noticed his vital readouts were excellent, heart rate a bit high. Oxygen perfect. People in another vehicle, all facing in, turned and watched him, staring out. He waved.
I am free to go? He laughed. He stepped on it. He turned on his music loudly until it made the sides tremble. He drove fast to the top of Malibu Heights. He passed others at will. His forward drone lights lit up entire canyons as he sped past. A deer lifted his head and stared.
Man, this is fun.
He parked at the highest pullout. It was cracked. Weeds spilled upwards freely. He got out. Below, the ocean was a dark, flat shape.
No one sees-anything. He felt the ground, the dirt, the rocks. No one feels anything.
He drove home, windows open. He parked where he shouldn’t, threw his bag where it didn’t belong and went to bed.
I hope this isn’t a dream.
He woke. He put on the same clothes he wore the day before. He went downstairs. Everyone was being auto-fed at a round table, perfect nutrition. He went to the coffee maker and pushed a button. Damn thing still works. Was it here before? He searched loudly in cupboards and found a mug. An insignia on it looked familiar. Everyone looked at him.
Morning all. He drank. He walked outside. He kicked some stones. He watched them leave.
Man.
He started his vehicle. All manual. It does feel new. New and familiar.
He drove to where she worked. He self-parked by the area of the old remains. He noticed the sign- Free Space. Was that there before? It was unkempt, a sort of park with overgrown shrubs, untrimmed trees, hard to see its paths. No one went there. The park ended at a bluff that careened down to the ocean.
He pushed the button. A holographic elevator attendant smiled at him.
No shave this morning, sir? He felt his chin.
I guess not. The attendant smiled. Personal hygiene available 14th Floor.
The door opened. The attendant vanished. He walked past the rows of people working. Some were facing windows to the ocean, some to the mountains, but no one even glanced at them. Except her. She took quick glances, which he noticed, even from across the long room.
A manager-monitor saw him, pressed his electronic clipboard and then stared at it as he passed him. No one stopped him.
He smelled the air. It already smelled unfamiliar. Too clean. Too pure. Empty.
How long have I breathed that?
She was sitting at her console. She wore a summer blue dress that stood out from the grey, black, dark blue suits around her. Her fingers rapidly played over the console. He thought she seemed more like a musician than an off-earth mineral analyzer.
He touched her right hand which had stayed for a split second too long, suspended in air, free and far too pretty in this room.
She jumped but didn’t pull her hand away.
Come with me! She looked around. No one will stop us. She noticed his brown eyes.
Where are we going? Heads turned as they walked out. The manager-monitor walked quickly through the rows restoring order.
He walked her to the elevator. It wushed open. The holograph was a woman this time. She smiled and emitted a pleasant, but too clean smell.
They went out of the building. No one was around except a man on an auto-cleaning device. They walked toward the park. She lightly touched his arm and was looking around, giggling occasionally.
This reminds me of something.
They walked into the park. A black man with a beard sat next to a weathered, wooden cart. There was a battered sign, barely readable.
COFFEE
Two please, cream and sugar. Lots of sugar. She smiled.
You two are the first in a long time. This is on the house.
He passed them two steaming mugs. They drank.
Yum.
You can take the mugs with you in the park. Return em when you come back. Just one favor. Give me a high-five. He held up his hand. He had to show them, but they got it. They did it several times, laughing. He watched them leave.
Welcome to Santa Monica.
They walked through the park, sometimes struggling, pushing aside branches and vines. They lost the path twice and found it again. When it opened up to a field of wild roses and small orange trees he took her hand. She gripped it.
How long has it been? Looks like someone tends to these. She trailed her hand carefully over roses, oranges.
I know.
They came out to the bluff and stopped to watch the sea. There was no one else there. Not even a dog.
This is beautiful!
It is indeed.
They walked down a rusty metal staircase that lead to the edge of the beach. They put their mugs on the last step. They took off their shoes and placed them together below the mugs and walked toward the waves.
He held her close. She looked up at him. He noticed her sea-green eyes.
I am remembering more. Like the waves never stop. And I am a wave catching up just now with me. She threw a rose petal in the swirling froth.
They stopped where the waves would hit them gently. They turned and hugged.
Do you remember who you were, are?
I can only remember you.
She looked out at the sea. Someone must have put a limiter on it. And to herself-Enough was enough. He is the impulse. I am the voice.
He thought of the friendly officer. Him?
He kissed her. She is smart. To think of that.
A first needs a second.
I’ll be your second. In the new future which will be all ours.
I think this beach hasn’t seen a kiss in a long time. They kissed again.
They laughed among the waves, their clothes got wet and the setting sun spilled out its beautiful wings.
And, although they couldn’t hear him, the coffee man laughed and so did the woman next to him who touched his hand. Her hair was grey, her hands as dry and cracked as his. Her smile he thought, was the morning sun.
He looked at her. She him.
It has begun.
It did begin.
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