‘I can confirm her car will come to a halt in due course and before she is set to collide with the others.’
Libby wiped the emotion from her eyes, pulled herself from Fiona and glanced at the countdown clock. ‘But that’s not for another ten minutes. Why can’t you do it now? The drone cameras show ambulances are behind all the Passengers. They can help her.’
‘Women have been giving birth for thousands upon thousands of years, Libby. Claire’s Smartseat is recording her statistics for me. I am sure that she and her baby will survive this process intact.’
Libby couldn’t hold back an incredulous laugh. ‘How can you assure us of anything? You’ve murdered people, you’ve forced us into making impossible decisions that go against everything we believe in. And for what purpose? Because you don’t like driverless cars or artificial intelligence? Well, neither do I but you don’t see me blowing innocent people up!’
‘Is that why you think I’m doing this, Libby?’
‘Is it not?’
‘You have misunderstood my motives.’
‘Then release Claire and tell us.’
The Hacker hesitated before he replied. ‘Perhaps the reasoning behind today’s actions might sound better coming from Jack. Because everything that has happened today is as a result of him.’
Chapter 53
All eyes turned towards the MP. Jack’s face and demeanour remained unruffled by the accusation.
‘Jack,’ continued the hacker, ‘would you like to explain to the world how, in the event of an accident, a driverless car really makes a decision on who lives and who dies? Because everything you’ve told us has been a lie, hasn’t it?’
‘What’s he talking about?’ asked Fiona.
Screens containing the Passengers and news channels were replaced with just one image: Jack’s face, broadcast from the multiple hidden cameras scattered around the walls. He failed to react to them or the attention paid to him by the room’s occupants. Instead, he held firm, his face stoic, his back straight, hands clenched and legs spread shoulder-width apart.
‘Come on now, Jack,’ coaxed the Hacker. ‘Either I can tell them or you can. It makes no difference to me how this is exposed.’
Thirty seconds on the clock passed before Jack moved. Without acknowledging anyone, he straightened his tie and made his way towards the tall, wooden exit doors. He lingered where he was standing with his back to his colleagues.
‘I’m afraid it’s your turn to be a Passenger now,’ said the Hacker. ‘Is there something you would like to get off your chest? And remember, honesty is the best policy.’
Jack didn’t respond so the Hacker pressed on. ‘What have you been keeping from the public and your fellow jurors since your inquests began? In a potentially fatal accident, how does a driverless carreallymake its decision?’
Matthew spoke. ‘I thought we’d adopted the German approach where software must be programmed to avoid injury or death at all cost? The car judges each individual scenario before taking the best course of action resulting in the fewest injuries or fatalities.’
‘And that was the intention when technology was in its infancy,’ the Hacker replied. ‘The public’s biggest concern then was how ethical and moral decisions could be made by robots. The powers-that-be assured us that driverless cars would try to save the most lives possible. And it was enough to appease most of us, even those who feared that car manufacturers would put their Passengers’ safety first. But it was all a lie, wasn’t it, Jack? Because the cars you campaigned for are actually assessing us, and protecting the people thatyouhave decided are the most valuable to society.’
‘What’s he talking about?’ whispered Cadman to one of his team. ‘Why haven’t I read about this online?’
‘What does he mean by “valuable to society”?’ Libby asked.
Jack was unwavering in his silence so the Hacker replied for him.
‘If an accident with a driverless car is unavoidable, the car isn’t only scanning its surroundings to make a decision, it’s scanningyou. Everything on your National Identity Card and the information collected on your wearable technology decides, in less than a nanosecond, if you are worth saving or sacrificing.’
Libby shook her head. ‘But the ID cards only contain our basic details like National Insurance numbers, blood type, iris scans, et cetera. How can the value of my life depend on something like my eye colour?’
‘The cards actually collect and hold so much more than that – masses of data harvested from elsewhere you’ve given your information. It stores your medical records, internet search history, online purchases, level of education, average and projected earnings, relationship history, size of your mortgage, criminal record, who you associate with on social media – this list goes on.’
‘So it’s like a constantly evolving biography about our lives?’ asked Matthew.
‘Precisely. It’s a CV that can change daily, hourly even. Then add that to the data on the phones we carry and our wearable tech such as those tracking our activity and health, and, together, it provides a complete picture of who we are, where we belong in society and our role in shaping our country’s future. All that information helps a car rate us before it decides if we are to live or die.’
‘Who does it view are more important than others?’ Fiona asked.
‘Allow me to offer you a few examples. If it’s a choice between an unemployed teenager and a high-ranking council official, the teenager will not come out well. If it’s a pregnant woman and an elderly person living on a state pension, the latter will be sacrificed. An obese person will not fair well against an athlete; likewise aperson with a criminal record will fall foul of one without. A police officer outranks a nurse but a doctor outweighs a police officer. A smoker comes before a drug user and a cancer patient takes precedent over someone with a family history of dementia. An MP triumphs over a civil servant but a cabinet minister tops an MP. And so it goes, on and on and on. The person most useful to our society always prevails. None of us are equals when it comes to driverless cars.’
