And then there was Libby. Her mandatory participation began when a young courier in a fluorescent top thrust a padded envelope into her hands as she left for work one morning. He’d mounted his bike and hurriedly pedalled out of sight before she had the chance to tear it open, read the instructions and throw it back at him.
Libby thought it was a prank, that she of all people – someone with a profound hatred for all things driverless – had been chosen. Once she had been part of a twenty-thousand-strong protest, marching to Downing Street to voice their fears against Level Five cars. So she assumed that if challenged and warned of her bias, the jury request would be hastily rescinded. It wasn’t. And with no friends who had been similarly sequestered – at least as far as she was aware – Libby had gone online to search for recollections of former participants. However, information was scarce.
Each of the major internet service providers had been legally ordered to remove and block inflammatory comments that contained any accounts or speculation of what Vehicle Inquest Jury Duty involved.
Her last resort was the official VIJD website, which comprised of a five-minute film churning out nothing but Government propaganda. Under pressure from those in opposition to Artificial Intelligence having so much control of cars, the Government had created the Vehicle Inquest Jury. Using cameras and a vehicle’s black box data, the jury decides if a fatality is the fault of a vehicle’s AI or the Passenger. If it is the former, manufacturers and insurers jointly face compensation claims. Adequate and costly software reprogramming would also be necessary to ensure the error was not repeated.
But Libby knew how rarely the inquests blamed AI, a system seen as virtually infallible. She had read about angry, bereaved families protesting the jury’s unjust verdicts placing the cause of a fatal accident squarely upon their loved ones. Those related to the dead had no right to appeal and, as a result, some next of kin who had lost their main breadwinner went on to lose their homes too.
How the jury reached a verdict was also kept secret. It was self-governing and did not have to justify its decisions. As someone who believed in complete transparency, it was yet another part of the process that didn’t sit comfortably with Libby.
As the day of her duty approached, she vowed to use her five days of service to provide a voice to the minority and challenge decisions where she saw fit.
But once inside that inquest room, it became apparent her best intentions would be thwarted. Each time she made her point of view known, the initially friendly Jack patronised, belittled and encouraged her to back down in such a subtle passive-aggressive way that she couldn’t be sure if she were imagining it. Eventually, and to her shame, she sank into her chair, defeated. In the real world, she wouldn’t hesitate to stand up for herself or her patients. But that room did not represent the real world. It was a private members’ club and she had only been given a guest pass.
Suddenly, Libby became aware of all eyes upon her.
‘Miss Dixon, have we lost your interest already?’ smiled Jack. ‘Do you need me to repeat anything I’ve just said?’
‘No, please go on,’ she whispered, her throat dry.
‘How generous of you,’ the woman in plaid replied.
‘Well, hopefully with no further lapses of attention from our guest, we can begin,’ Jack continued, andgave Libby a wink. ‘And please be advised, what you are about to witness contains particularly graphic evidence.’
Libby thought she caught a glimmer of delight behind Jack’s eyes as he ordered the footage to be shown.
Chapter 10
JUDE HARRISON
Jude remained paralysed inside his vehicle, his hands clasped on either side of his head and his mouth open. He watched helplessly as the GPS map on his monitor calculated a destination he had no control over. The arrival time for an address in Scotland was in two hours and twenty-five minutes’ time.
In his head, he replayed the voice that moments ago had appeared through his speakers and informed him someone else was controlling his car. And if it were to be believed, he soon would be dead. He reached for the door release button but it didn’t work. He leaned over and tried the same with the other door, but again, nothing.
‘Okay, you’ve got me,’ he said aloud. ‘Whoever is doing this, you’ve had your fun. Can I have my car back, please?’ He awaited a response, but none came. Instead, the car continued driving in a direction he had not chosen for it.
‘Think, think,’ he muttered, before jabbing icon after icon on the screen of his dashboard, attempting to regain control of both the vehicle and programmed destination. But nothing he pressed made any difference.
‘Car, go online,’ he ordered, trusting the vehicle’s Operating System would allow him to open its user manual and override the navigational system.
‘Vehicle offline,’ it replied.
‘No,’ Jude commanded. ‘I need you to go online.’
‘Vehicle offline,’ the car repeated.
He ran through a list of alternative phrases hoping one might work. ‘System override,’ he said, ‘Pull vehicle over; Let the driver take control; Open owner manual.’ The car failed to respond to any. ‘Car, do as I fucking tell you!’ he yelled in frustration. After a pause, the OS responded.
‘No.’
Jude hesitated. He had never heard the car use that word before. Typically, if his vehicle was unable to carry out an order, it was programmed to politely reply with an ‘I apologise, your request is not possible at this time’, followed by an explanation. It had never been a point-blank refusal.
He grabbed an earpiece from his pocket and affixed it to make a telephone call. ‘Dial emergency services,’ he said.
‘No,’ the OS repeated.
Jude remembered that each time he entered the car, his phone automatically logged on to the vehicle’s Wi-Fi. He scrambled around until he found the accompanying handset in the glovebox. He devised a way to turn off Wi-Fi and reroute the phone to find a 5G signal. But the symbol to confirm it was connected vanished as soon as it appeared. ‘Signal jammed,’ it read. He took a deep breath and tried to look outside for help but the frosted glass windows remained.
