I like to participate in writing prompts on the Writers Digest web site. This week's prompt is about your first driving test (or one you expect to have and describe). But that seemed rather bland to me, so I took some liberties and wrote this:
I glance at the instructor as his voice drones on. I know the rules, but you know how this game works. Any time the government is involved, you play their way. I don’t really want to take the test. But you’ve got to prove yourself on the new General Motors VX-series, at least as far as the state is concerned. They’re a bit faster than the original V-series, and not like the original S-series sedans.
Suddenly it’s silent. I realize the instructor is waiting on me to provide a voice clip for authentication. I do so, and the VX-128 goes to ready status. I check the screens one more time, request access, and when the acknowledgement comes back, punch the buttons to light the engines.
I slowly maneuver to 500 feet, the prescribed level while the electrodes record my health status. They don’t want a 115 year old guy like me to incur a heart attack, I suppose. Briefly I wait until I get access to normal flight. I shift to the thrusters, and eventually achieve a nice burn up to 90,000 feet. I glance over at the instructor. He hasn’t said anything yet, but that glance was my first and only mistake.
“The VX-128 requires attentiveness to the control screens. Please focus your attention on the control screens.”
The metallic voice annoys me. I’ve never gotten used to the damn robots that operate our worlds. I return my gaze back to the screens, and wait for access to planetary mode. The familiar chirp and visual signal give me all I need to have some fun. I immediately go to anti-gravity flight. My plan, as agreed upon with the instructor, has me taking a short trip out to Mars and back. Nothing fancy, just enough to demonstrate an approach, landing, and a return back to Earth.
Of course, neither the instructor nor the test facility know what I’m about to do. I reach for the override switch, and simultaneously slap a magnetized disruptor pad on the driving instructor. The shiny metal head lolls over. A grin comes over my face as I set a course for the Beta Signi solar system. I hope my cousin Benny has jacked this VX, or the authorities will cook my goose. Literally, since a death sentence and cremation await me if I’m caught. But crashing that robot’s CPU is sweet. Benny always did have good taste in disrupter pads.
I hit the graviton setting, and the VX follows a gentle arc away from Mars and then accelerates to 1,000 times planetary flight. He did it! I mouth a silent thank-you to Benny.
I set automatic flight mode. In a few hours I will be back on Grishon. A surgeon will remove this voice box from my throat, and another surgeon will “correct” my face, returning it to its original shape and look. Then I will consult with my generals. And in a few days, I will lead the attack on Earth. I hope to defeat your armies, and then the 42 billion inhabitants will suffer the same fate that I nearly did.
Hope you liked it!
Chuck
