Death Drive

Chapter 5

The police vehicle behind him flashed red and blue lights and Thomas pulled over with a deep sigh. He launched the driver's license app on his phone and winded the window open, placing his hands on the steering wheel. A drone with stamps marking it as belonging to the city police floated by the door.

"Place your hands where I can see them," it ordered loudly over the hum of its propeller.

"I know the drill," he dismissed tersely.

Obeying its orders with disinterest he got out, removed his jacket and placed his hands on the hood of the vehicle. Only then did an armored vehicle appear from around the corner and creep closer, stopping by the side of his yellow Ford Pinto. The door by its side slid open and an officer stepped out, featureless in his face-covering helmet and heavy overalls.

"My license is on top of the car. No, I am not under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Yes, I was going at 40 miles an hour," he recounted flatly.

"Only speak when spoken to," the officer barked but grabbed the phone.

"Great, it's one of the tyrannical sociopath types," he thought. The slightest perceived resistance or insult could land him a night in one detention center or another.

"Why did you ignore the hails by the automated patrol unit?"

"I did not receive them. As you can see, officer, I have no smartglasses and the car has nothing in the way of onboard computers."

"Mr. Walker," he said, obviously reading off some database projected on his one-way mirror visor," I see this is not the first time you've been pulled over. Far from it."

"Yes, the police force has taken quite the interest in me."

"If you didn't selfishly put others in danger by driving one of these things, we would not have to do so. So don't complain that we keep people like you in check."

"You're the real heroes," he brooded, focusing on making no sudden movements and keeping his face neutral as not to give the facial reading software of the drone that was buzzing in his face any signs of aggression, at which point he could forget about the detention center and hope he could get his own room at the emergency department.

"Says here you don't qualify for basic income. Still paying the penalties of some crime or another?"

"No, officer. I opted out of the payment due to the surveillance that was required."

"Got something to hide?"

"I consider that bit of privacy to be more valuable than the monthly pittance the state would exchange for it."

"I'll never understand you privacy-freaks. If you're a good person then why not show that to everyone by displaying your life for others to judge?"

"You'd be surprised at the ways those things can turn against you, officer."

"Whatever. This car is not in the register. Did it infringe on your privacy to make the necessary paperwork?"

"My car was damaged recently so I borrowed this one from a dealership. If you look inside, you'll see the paperwork."

"Sir," the officer emphasized.

"Yes?"

"You'll see the paperwork, sir:"

He ground his teeth but quickly relaxed his jaw, remembering the watchful eye hovering nearby. Few people stared at him as they passed on foot, a yellow light on the rim of their smartglasses indicating they were filming as the overzealous lawman demeaned him.