Man Behind the Wheel (The Next Half Century Book 1)

by Steve Rzasa

  Aldo tossed them all a mock salute. “You got it. We’ll be back in a couple days.”

  “Wait, where are you two going? I thought you were overseeing the repairs of the Halcyon.”

  “Um, duh. Marcy? I’m going to dig her out from under the rock and try for a reboot. Not sure if she’ll survive it, brains and all, but it’s worth a shot.” Aldo hustled off to a waiting FTZ East Security Halcyon.

  The sight of the car made Rome queasy. He needed his ride back. All this standing around, not driving, was enough to make a man sick for lack of motion.

  “What offer?” Kelsey asked.

  “Of employment. I’m expanding Resolve Interception. Could take on a new Driver, if he’s interested in the work—and if he’s willing to play by my rules. If that’s the case, I’ll need a decent pilot with a plane of her own.”

  “It’ll be difficult stealing her from FTZ. I thought the Condor was their property.”

  “It is,” Rome smiled. “Not the only bird available, though. In the meantime, Jake…”

  “Listening, Dad.”

  “Keen on a trip back to the Mass Hike?”

  “Yeah! I’m driving.”

  “Only once we get there.” Rome kissed Kelsey on the cheek and lifted Vivian down off her brother’s shoulders. “I’ll bring him back late.”

  “Be careful.”

  Rome ran a hand over the smooth curve of the Andromeda. “Always am.”

  EPILOGUE

  Three Months Later…

  The windows of the Halcyon were darkened against the midday summer sun. Rome couldn’t see a cloud anywhere in the turquoise sky. Famtracs poured by in a steady stream, heading west toward Devil’s Tower and Yellowstone. He knew because Aldo had destination coordinates marked for all surrounding vehicles that advertised their destinations on the Net.

  “Three of a kind, deuce.” Aldo flicked the holographic set of cards so they spun—diamond, spade, and club.

  Rome nodded. “Not bad. But not a straight.” He flipped over his virtual hand.

  Aldo moaned and rolled his eyes like some zombie out of the old vids popular a half century ago. “And just like that, I’m down forty bucks. Again.”

  “Quit griping. I buy dinner every other week. You get your money back in food most Fridays.”

  “True,” he scowled. “Marcy? Financial. Aldrich Burns.”

  [Confirmed. Transfer to Roman Jasko in the amount of forty dollars complete.]

  Rome burst out laughing.

  “What? Hey! Marcy, I did not authorize!”

  [I have programmed in the amount in the event Driver Jasko wins. Given the statistical probability of said event, I deduced it would be more efficient to streamline the process and make the transfer automatic in the event of his win.]

  “Can’t argue with the comp’s logic,” Rome chided. “Well done, Marcy.”

  [Thank you, sir.]

  Aldo mouthed the same words with a sour expression on his face.

  An alert chirped across his holo displays. Aldo swiped away the cards, making them ball up and decrease in magnification until they disappeared. A map took their place, complete with flashing red lights. “Traffic disturbance up ahead,” Aldo announced. “Both lanes are braking.”

  Rome swiveled his seat to face front. The cars lost speed. A trio of freighters switched lanes to the right, leaving a gap for the Halcyon. Marcy slid them into the space, not slowing like the rest, per her programming. “Marcy, get me a signal to Kestrel Six-Oh.”

  [Affirmative.]

  Did her tone have a more chipper lilt to it? Rome knew Marcy was a simple navigation and safety comp, but it sure seemed to him her attitude was improved after having been forcibly removed from the Halcyon.

  “Pursuit One Twelve, this is Kestrel Six-Oh.” Gabriela, however, was her usual brisk, businesslike self. “You’ve got a glitcher five-point-five miles ahead, right lane. Unsafe lane switching, high rate of speed. Nav’s malfunctioning. It won’t respond to FTZ attempts at override.”

  “Copy, Kestrel Six-Oh. We’re seeing signs of the disturbance down here.”

  “I’m sending the coordinates your way. Aldrich, do you have them?

  “Yes, dear,” Aldo muttered. “Data’s complete. Plotting the intercept. I’ve got a program that ought to do just the trick.”

  “Glad to hear it, boys. FTZ West has the bounty pending.”

  “What, just us? Thad isn’t going to horn in?” Rome said.

  “I’ve got him off chasing down a freighter-jacking. He says you shouldn’t worry yourself.”

  Rome rolled his eyes. Sounded about right. “Remind me why I paid so much to steal him away from Del Norte.”

  “Because he’s an awesome Driver. Arrogant, obnoxious, yes, but awesome.” Aldo flipped over a holo and widened the view. “Got the target.”

  “Let’s do it.” Rome put his right palm on the dash, once more. His pulse pounded the steady rhythm, increasing with his pre-chase anticipation. “Confirm authorization, Marcy.”

  There was his certification, its seals and date of renewal updated. The USDOT logo burned brightly.

  [Certification confirmed. You are authorized to conduct pursuit.]

  “Love it when she says that.” Aldo dug a fruit stick out of his pocket and bit the end off.

  “Log the time and heading. Prep occupants.”

  Restraints wrapped around them and controls snapped into position. Rome grasped the steering surface.

  [Current velocity 88 miles per hour. Safety systems of the surrounding traffic have been notified.]

  Rome put the accelerator to the floor.

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