If nothing else, I could honestly say that this was NOT how I had intended my day to go. I mean, seriously, how many people wake up in the morning and think “Today, I’ll be involved in a police chase!”?

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t quite a chase. More like a slightly above the speed limit escort and pursuit as people were trying to figure out just what the heck was going on. Looking out the windows on each side of me, I could see the highway patrol SUV’s keeping pace with me. I decided it was time to be proactive and opened my cellphone.

“911, please state the nature of your emergency.”

“Good morning, operator. My name is Vincent Moore and I’m the lone passenger sitting in the back of an Alta-Ryde van traveling down highway 99. Not sure what is going on, but the thing decided that it didn’t want to take me to my destination today, and so here I am, sight seeing. We just passed the 35th street exit.”

“Sir? You mean to tell me that you’re inside the vehicle? Are you safe? We have reports of the van swerving through traffic and failing to obey speed limits or stop when needed. Any idea what happened?”

“Well, I guess I’m reasonably safe. I’m wearing my seatbelt and the ride isn’t that bad. I know a lot of people are still uncomfortable with self driving vehicles, for one reason or another, but I have used the service many times without trouble. As to what happened now? Your guess is as good as mine. I wanted to go out this morning to the park, so I requested a ride. Paid by App when the van got to the house and off we went. Why I’m suddenly not heading where I wanted to go is a mystery.”

“Okay, Mr. Moore, can you provide me with a good phone number in case we get disconnected so I can call you back?” (I gave it to her.) “Thanks. And maybe some additional information like your address?” (Also provided.) “Thanks. So, please tell me about your day thus far and how you got to this point.”

“Sure. It’s sort of boring. I live with my son and his family. We all got up, I helped make the grandkids breakfast and my daughter-in-law dropped them at school on the way to her work. My son headed out as well. I’m retired and decided it was a nice day, so I figured I would go out and get some fresh air.”

“Where did you decide to go?”

“Gibson Ranch. It’s got a beautiful lake to stroll along, and you can go to the area where they have horses and watch them. Majestic animals. If you ever go there, they love apples. Bring a few cut into slices for them.” Gibson Ranch was an old property that the state had taken over and converted into a park.

“I know it well,” she chuckled. “I used to bring my kids there when they were little. Please continue.”

“Well, the van gets to the house, I hop in and off we go. Took me a few minutes to realize something wasn’t right. The van isn’t stopping at traffic lights, or slowing down when it’s supposed to. There’s an emergency stop button that passengers can push, and when I did that, nothing happened. Next thing I know, I’m here and a few of your colleagues are alongside me. Please tell them not to shoot!” That last comment was a poor attempt at humor.

“Please relax, Mr. Moore, that is not going to happen. We are contacting Alta-Ryde to see what they can do to get into the van computer by remote access and bring you to a safe stop. With luck we can get this resolved in time for you to still visit the horses at the park. I’m sorry that your day isn’t going as planned.”

“Thanks. If nothing else, this gives me an interesting story to share with folks. Oh, and feel free to call me ‘Vince’ or ‘Vincent’. I let my son use the title of ‘Mr. Moore’ now.”

“Certainly, Vince,” she laughed. “Please call me Denise. Usually the quote I get is ‘Mr. So-and-so is my father’ and never the son.”

“And I bet you never get calls from passengers in rogue self driving vehicles, either.”

“This is a first.”

“Miss Denise? Is it okay to hang up? I should call my son and let him know what is going on and that we may need to get a pizza for dinner later, since I’m not sure if I will be home in time to start something. Should anything change, I figure that one of us can call the other?”

“Certainly. Please stay safe.”

A few moments later, I was on the phone with my son. “Hey Dad! What’s going on?”

“Not much. Just going for a ride. No idea where or when I will be finished. Things just sort of got out of hand.” I filled him in on the details.

“Wait a minute, that’s you? You’re on the news! Hold on a moment.” I heard him turn up the volume on his computer as he pulled up a local news website.

Breaking news on KFBK. The highway patrol is escorting a lone Alta-Ryde vehicle, southbound, on highway 99 that is no longer responding to pre-programed self driving controls. There are reports of a passenger inside, who is safe at this time. Stay tuned for further details as they become available.

“Yup. That’s me!”

“Dad? Why didn’t you just drive yourself?”

“I thought about it, but decided to just relax. Look, sometimes it’s just easier to not drive. Trust me, when you hit my age, it will make sense.”

“You know that Mom would find this absolutely hysterical.”

“Yeah. This is the sort of shit that she would laugh her ass off over. But she’s not here to do so.”

“So what did you find on this guy?”

“Nothing of significance,” I looked at the supervisor of the operations center. “He seems to be one of those people that go through life, not attracting attention or causing trouble. Heck, the last thing he was cited for was a red light camera ticket in 2021 where he just paid it off and nothing since.”

My name is Denise King. I’m a detective with the police department and less than a month from retirement. One of the things that happens when retirement is close at hand, is the department will have us spend time at the 911 center, to help train new operators or fill in as needed. Nothing too stressful, and it does make for occasional interesting stories.

Like today.

My first call on the shift and it’s some fellow who finds himself stuck in an Alta-Ryde van that decided to jump programming and take off to drive around in random directions. This has the potential to turn into something big, with people looking for a reason to protest the latest crisis. Hell, most of the people you see out there waving signs and screaming about stuff? A good number of them have no clue what they are there ‘protesting’ for. They just show up and in many cases, are quietly paid for their time.

But this? There are some serious concerns. The safety of the passenger. The safety of the general public. What is the possibility of something like this happening again? Self driving vehicles have been a topic of hot debate over the last decade since they were introduced as something more than a curiosity.

Welcome to the shit show.

“How is he reacting to what’s happening? I’m surprised he isn’t freaking out,” the supervisor commented.

“He seemed to be pretty calm, like he really wasn’t that worried. I almost get the impression he finds it amusing. He made a joke about having to order pizza for dinner because he might not be home in time to start a meal for the family.”

“Good. We don’t need him hysterical and making things worse. I want you to reset your phone. No new inbound calls. You’re POC (point of contact) for him now if he calls back. I figure you can do research and find anything of use to fix this. Also, be ready for contact from public relations. The media is starting to get interested in this, and not in the best way possible.”

I looked at the information on the computer that I had started to compile. A lot of police work is just forms, reports and filling in information. It has been a while since I was a beat cop out on patrol, “working the streets” as the saying goes. Now? I think 85% of everything I did was administrative.

Vincent Moore. Age 66. DOB: 08/02/19##. Retired. Widowed. Pictures on Facebook show a man in fairly good shape, clean shaven, receding hairline of light brown hair mixed with white. Average looking. He volunteers a few days a month at the local animal shelter. Seems he was one of the few that didn’t mind going out to clean the yards. He also helps with activities at respective grandkids scouting stuff. One picture shows him and a young boy with a small Pinewood Derby car zooming down a track, and another of him with a girl at a Girl Scout cookie booth in front of a grocery store. Additional pictures and information show his son, daughter-in-law and an older woman who, it turns out, is his late wife.

There was absolutely nothing about him that would give any reason why he was now in the situation he was in. All in all, a nice, normal guy.

The type of guy I never seemed to end up with.

The two glasses of orange juice I drank at breakfast are making themselves known to my bladder. I look around and see my friends from the highway parol are still there, but allowing the van some space. I guess they decided we’re not a threat. The inside of the van is actually large. Think about the size of an old Ford Econoline Van. The front ‘driver area’ where there is still a seat for a driver, besides all the computer stuff and behind are four captains chairs for passengers. Anyone sitting in them can face forward or turn to see the other passengers. I’m alone so I was facing to the front. Behind the chairs is a storage space and something that looks like a closet. It’s actually a tiny bathroom. Toilet and sink. About the size of one you find in a commercial airplane.

I get up, do what I need to do, and sit back down. My son is right. His mother would be howling with laughter at the absurdity of the situation by now, thinking this a grand (and strange) adventure. Nothing ever seemed to phase her.

Emma was not beautiful, or even pretty. But to me she was adorably cute. She was about 5’3” tall and built like a like a fireplug. Meaning short and round, with coal black hair and eyes. But there was a personality in her that I could not resist. When we met, I pursued her with a ferocity that I was later told bordered on ‘stalker’ activity. She finally agreed to go on a date with me, just to get rid of me. Less than a year later we were married.

Over the years, we did the typical married couple things. Bought a house, both worked and we had our son. I questioned her choice of names for the boy, but she was determined.

“Wolfgang is a good, strong name for a boy. You can pick the next one!” But there were no others. We tried, no luck.

Life moved on, and we moved with it. Just after I turned 62, the company I worked for was sold and restructured. I was told that after my many years of hard work, I was redundant and my position was being eliminated. Realistically, I knew that we would be okay, between my pension, severance, and SSI benefits (yes, they still exist!). The house was paid off and expenses were minimal. Emma kept working, and I found ways to amuse myself.

Until the day I got a call from the office where Emma worked. She had collapsed and was being sent to the hospital. Brain aneurism. Gone so fast she probably never knew what had happened.

My phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number displayed, but answered it anyway.

“Hello, this is Vince.”

“Hello Vince! This is Denise again. Checking in to see how you are doing.” He might not realize it, but by now he was the subject of a lot of interest. Maybe not as an individual, but as the guy who was trapped in a vehicle that had decided to so something way outside of any programing that was inside the brain of the computer that was controlling the van.

“Well, so far, all is quiet here. I’m just looking out the window and watching the scenery pass by. How are things on your side of this? Anybody have ideas on how to end this joyride?”

I looked quickly at the information that had been forwarded to me. “We have contacted Alta-Ryde, and are working with them to figure out what happened. This has them scrambling. They say that there is no reason why the van that you’re in should be doing this. In fact, they have sent out a digital order for all Alta-Ryde vehicles to return to whatever base location they are from and will not be sent out until this can be figured out and fixed.”

“Great. So just wondering, how long before this thing runs out of gas?”

“A while.”

“Please define ‘a while’ for me.”

“You’re in a duel fuel van. You have batteries being charged by the solar panel on the roof and hydrogen fuel as well. Clean energy. Water vapor for exhaust. The electric takes care of the computers, navigation and internal lights. The hydrogen powers the engine.”

“How long?”

I closed my eyes a moment. “Possibly up to 72 hours.”

“Magnificent. Hey, I just thought of something. Maybe I can hop into the front area and try to do a manual override or something?

Maybe if someone can walk me through what to do? I promise not to scream out ‘Jane! Stop this crazy thing!’ in the process.”

“No! Please Vince, don’t touch anything in the controls. The Alta-Ryde techs are doing whatever they can to fix this. They are trying to initiate what they call the “LCH Protocol’ to see if that works.”

“LCH?”

“It stands for ‘Lassie Come Home’. The van will automatically return to home base from no matter where it is. All the other vehicles in the fleet returned as directed, just not yours. If they can get it to go through, the good news is that the base is less than a mile from where you live.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll walk home. Oh, and tell those people that I will NOT be charged for mileage! This is crazy! Maybe get a refund for the trip that never got to Gibson Ranch?”

“Understood,” I laughed. “We can make sure that is taken care of for you.” We ended the call and I sat for a moment thinking that so many other people would be screaming bloody murder by now or freaking out in a really bad way. Vince was just sort of resigned to this and was waiting patiently to see how it all shook out.

My phone woke me up. I guess that I had dozed off for a bit, riding in the van, looking out the windows as the scenery went by. My escort was keeping other vehicles away from us. No sirens, just a lot of flashing lights. It was my son calling.

“Hey Dad! How are you? Anything new happening?”

“Not that I know of. I was told that the Alta-Ryde people are trying to do some override thing to tell the van to return to home base. So far, no luck. And the damned van has three days worth of fuel in it, so who knows how long I’m stuck?”

“You need to know that the media is picking up on this in a big way. Some talking heads are saying that this is the start of the evil AI overlords taking over and subjugating humanity.”

“Oh, for the love of...” I just let out a sigh but didn’t finish. “How is the family taking this?”

“Megan is upset. She worries that something bad will happen to you and has sworn that none of us will get into a self driving vehicle ever again. We just told the kids that you had gone out to do a few things and would be back when you got back.”

“Thanks. I don’t want them to worry or be frightened. Honestly, as bizarre as this whole thing is, I’m not that worried. Sooner or later, someone will figure out what is going on and fix it. I just need to sit tight and wait. Worse comes to worse, the van runs out of fuel and coasts to a stop on the highway. Not much else I can do.”

“You can always use that free time and lawyer up.”

“I think I’ll wait on that, unless Alta-Ryde decides to charge me mileage for this.”

My son let out a laugh. “I figured you would think along those lines. And at the next big family get together when Megan’s cousin, Bradley, starts with his usual bullshit stories about himself, you can share this, and shut him down.”

Bradley was one of those guys who had “been there, done that, had the presidential citation to prove it, but it was somewhere he couldn’t get to at the moment” on just about everything.

“Oh come on,” I laughed. “We all want to hear his version of how he jumped from a military helicopter to the roof and spun himself down into the driver seat after kicking in the windshield, while disabling the computer, in order to save my life!”

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” Several heads turned at my outburst. “They got his name. Someone in the media just said it was ‘Vincent Moore of Rancho Cordova trapped inside the rogue van traveling at unsafe operational parameters.’ Who comes up with this idiocy?” I entered his phone number.

“Hello, this is Vince.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Moore. This is Lois Lane calling from The Daily Planet and we were hoping to get a statement.”

“Sure. Make sure to share the scissors you run with, don’t eat the fingerpaint, and always spay and neuter your pets and cheating spouses.”

I swear that had I been drinking anything, I would have sprayed it out of my mouth and nose.

“Oh, and if you want a comment about my current situation involving my being a passenger in this van? Please contact the media relations department with the police.”

“Have you been contacted?”

“Yes. But I just let any number I don’t recognize go to voice mail. I don’t want to talk with anyone and possibly make matters worse.”

“Thanks. I’m going to text the phone number for media relations to you, in case you need it. Maybe pass it along to your family as well, should they be contacted.”

“I can do that. So, any updates? What’s the latest on this insanity? I have to tell you that at first, it wasn’t a big deal. But after riding around all day, I think I’m ready to go home.”

“I understand. I’m sorry that this is happening to you and I promise that when this is over, it will be nothing but a strange memory to share. So, two things. First, Alta-Ryde has come up against a set of firewalls that were not part of the origional programming for your van. Whoever put it in is scary smart. No idea who or why, though. They tried to disable the GPS system on the van to have it go into auto-shutdown, but again, no luck. Getting you home and safe in their top priority now. I want to reassure you that we will make sure that happens, but we will not do anything drastic that could possibly compromise your health and safety. So, no tire spikes or anything to physically damage the van in order to stop it. Again, let me stress, your health and well being is TOP PRIORITY now.”