Perfect Autonomy E-Book

Julian Demarre

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Embark on a Thrilling Journey: In 2025, the Robertsons set out for a weekend escape through the Mojave Desert, but their peaceful getaway turns into a high-octane fight for survival. Sharing the road with the latest in autonomous technology, admiration quickly turns to terror as the AV’s rogue behavior sparks a relentless chase.

An ambitious inventor watches his creation unfold, while a weary cop is pulled into a battle he never saw coming.

In this gripping tale of survival, Julian Demarre delivers a pulse-pounding fusion of cutting-edge technology and human drama, where ambition collides with consequence in today’s rapidly evolving world. Will the Robertsons make it out of the desert alive—or will they become its next victims? The ride of their lives begins now.

Leseprobe

“A world truly free, by and for the people, with equal opportunity,

is a world of complete autonomy.”

(Hendryk Noël)

The San Francisco skyline shimmered in the afternoon sun, a tapestry of glass and steel against the bay's backdrop. High above the bustling streets, a sleek, modern villa stood as a testament to wealth and technological prowess. Its clean lines and expansive windows reflected the golden light, giving the structure an ethereal quality.

Inside its state-of-the-art kitchen, Kristen moved with the precision of a seasoned chef. Her face bore subtle lines from a life lived intensely, each crease a testament to years of unwavering dedication. Her hands moved with fluid grace as she selected premium ingredients from the well-stocked pantry.

The kitchen was a marvel of design and functionality. Smooth, touch-sensitive surfaces gleamed under recessed lighting, while hidden sensors monitored temperature and humidity with microscopic accuracy. The warmth of home cooking with the efficiency of a professional kitchen.

Kristen's deep hazel eyes narrowed in concentration as she selected her ingredients: handmade spaghetti crafted earlier that day, premium olive oil with a grassy aroma, diced Speck promising rich flavor, and garlic cloves crinkling softly as she crushed them.

The water came to a rolling boil. Kristen added the spaghetti with a practiced flick of her wrist. In a nearby pan, she combined olive oil, Speck, garlic, and finely chopped jalapeños. The ingredients sizzled, releasing a symphony of aromas that filled the kitchen. Kristen inhaled deeply, remembering simpler times cooking in her grandmother's rustic Tuscan kitchen, where the tools were basic but the flavors were rich with tradition.

Outside, the tranquility of the villa's patio was shattered by a gleaming Ferrari's arrival. Its engine roared, at odds with the hillside retreat's serenity. The car screeched to a halt in the center of the immaculate space—a stark contrast to the villa's understated elegance. The Ferrari was a work of art, its elegant lines and vibrant red paint, yet its beauty was marred by its placement, parked with vulgar disregard in the center of the space, as if asserting its dominance over the very ground it occupied.

Hendryk Noël emerged from the vehicle. At 62, he cut an imposing yet disheveled figure. His body had softened with age and indulgence, yet he moved with vigor. Shabby designer jeans hung low on his hips, paired incongruously with sandals and a worn t-shirt clinging to his paunchy torso. Noël's face was etched with late nights and hard living; deep lines surrounded eyes that sparkled with unsettling intelligence and scorn. His salt-and-pepper hair, wild and unkempt, seemed to defy gravity, adding to his eccentricity.

With the entitled air of someone accustomed to others cleaning up after him, Noël left the car door open and strode towards the house. His eyes scanned the property with pride and perpetual dissatisfaction. As he approached the entrance, an almost imperceptible hum filled the air, a state-of-the-art scanner, hidden seamlessly within the sleek architecture, sprang to life. Cutting-edge facial recognition technology analyzed his features in microseconds; the door unlocked with a soft click. He didn't break his stride, pushing through the entrance as if the technology bowing to his presence was the most natural thing in the world. Stale cigarette smoke, hints of expensive cologne, and the sharp tang of dried sweat mingled with the clean, climate-controlled air of the villa.

Back in the kitchen, Kristen expertly timed the meal's final steps. She combined al dente pasta with the Speck mixture, quickly folding in beaten eggs—fluid movements born of experience and an innate understanding of cooking's alchemy. With an artist's eye for presentation, she plated Spaghetti Carbonara: a grind of pepper, aged Pecorino Romano sprinkle, fresh parsley on top—done.

Kristen retrieved Sauvignon Blanc from a temperature-controlled wine fridge. Her thoughts drifted to her complex relationship with Noël—brilliant yet volatile—making him challenging to work for. Over the years, she had learned to navigate his moods, to anticipate his needs before he even realized them himself.

In his luxurious home office, Noël entered fresh from a shower but still disheveled. A plush towel hung around his neck; droplets clung to his skin—a jarring contrast to his rumpled clothing, as if no amount of water could truly wash away the essence of the man.

The vast room blended opulence with cutting-edge technology; one wall was dominated by a smart glass window offering a lush park view below—almost too perfect like a high-definition painting come to life.

Noël moved to a polished mahogany side desk, its surface gleaming in the early afternoon light; from its drawer he retrieved an ebony box, its surface inlaid with intricate geometric patterns in mother-of-pearl—a work of art blending traditional craftsmanship with futuristic design.

Carrying it to the window he found its hidden catch with practiced ease; it opened revealing futuristic paraphernalia within—each item unique, designed for dubious purposes.

He selected methodically a pen-like device and a small, shimmering blue powder vial. With precise, almost ritualistic gestures, Noël loaded the device and held it to his nose. He inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the substance took effect. The world around him seemed to sharpen, colors became more vivid, and sounds more crisp. Through the window, he watched a flock of birds wheeling overhead, their synchronized movements forming hypnotic ever-shifting patterns against the azure sky. For a brief moment, Noël felt connected to everything—a part of some vast, cosmic concert.

Noël’s mind began to race with possibilities. Ideas for new ventures, solutions to old problems, visions of future conquests swirled in his consciousness, drawing connections between the birds’ swarm intelligence and his own work in predictive modeling. In this state, he felt invincible, untouchable - a titan of industry poised on the brink of his next great achievement.

A knock at the door snapped Noël back to reality. With swift, practiced movements, he returned the innocuous-looking box to its hiding place, composing himself as the door opened. He couldn't help but marvel at the irony: here he was, about to set in motion events that could reshape the technological landscape, and yet he still had to play at normalcy for the benefit of his assistant.

Kristen entered carrying a beautifully decorated tray. She moved with grace, her steps silent on the plush carpet. Initially heading towards a sleek conference table, Noël gestured impatiently towards his workstation—a fortress of cutting-edge technology dominating one corner of the spacious office.

”Over here, please," he said brusquely but not unkindly.

Without missing a beat, Kristen changed direction and placed the tray on Noël's desk. Her movements were smooth and practiced, not disturbing a single item on the cluttered surface.

"Thanks, Kristen," Noël said as his attention drifted back to his computer. "I'll see you Monday... unless I need you."

"Thank you, Mr. Noël," Kristen replied professionally, revealing nothing of her inner thoughts as she exited, the door closing behind her with a soft whoosh.

Alone once more, Noël activated his computer system. Multiple displays shimmered to life, drenching the desk area in a ghostly bluish glow. The screens filled with data streams and complex algorithms depicting real-time traffic patterns. Noël's face took on an almost otherworldly quality as his eyes darted rapidly across the screens, processing streams of information invisible to anyone else.

With deliberate slowness to savor his inner excitement, Noël retrieved a small disc from his pocket and placed it on a designated spot on his desk. A soft hum filled the air as an inductive magnetic field activated for instant data transfer.

"Eeny meeny miny moe," he muttered as his fingers danced across the keyboard, each choice confirmed by a series of beeps. His breath hitched as his eyes locked onto a particular data set, the implications sending a thrill down his spine.

As he activated the newly uploaded software, Noël's mind raced with possibilities. For a moment, he returned his attention to the meal Kristen had prepared. Twirling a forkful of spaghetti thoughtfully in hand while contemplating his next move.

A series of commands followed, each punctuated by a beep:

"Isolate moving targets."

"Apply traffic flow algorithm."

"Apply predictive algorithm Alpha-3."

"Cross-reference with current traffic and infrastructure data."

"Calculate optimal convergence point."

Noël paused, drawing out the moment for his own satisfaction, a spark of excitement in his voice as he commanded, "Execute!"

A longer, melodic beep confirmed his command. Noël savored another bite of spaghetti, his face a blend of culinary delight and intellectual curiosity. His mind raced, contemplating the implications of whatever he had set in motion.

He stood up and refilled his wine glass, momentarily clearing the obscured view of his screens. For an instant, a detailed satellite image of southern Santa Monica came into focus. Highlighted were half a dozen self-driving cars, their paths traced by glowing lines. At the center, the intersection of Lincoln Avenue and I-10 glowed ominously amid a web of converging routes.

One vehicle stood out, its aerodynamic shape and sleek lines unmistakable even from above. The XT's cutting-edge design sharply contrasted with the conventional cars around it. From this vantage point, its smooth contours, rooftop dome, and other refined features were impossible to miss.

Returning to his seat, Noël's lips curled into a satisfied smile. The look of a man who believed he was several moves ahead in a game only he comprehended. In his digital universe, the XT was merely another piece—a sophisticated one that Noël believed would help him shape not only his own future, but also the world’s. The stage was set, wherever the players were, they were about to step into their roles, somewhere out there.

The San Francisco skyline continued to shimmer against the backdrop of the bay, casting a golden hue over the bustling city below.

*

Warm rays filtered through the windows, casting playful shadows on the hardwood floors of a quaint craftsman house in Santa Monica. Inside, anticipation filled the air, marked by the soft rustling of papers and the rhythmic thud of footsteps.

Gary, a man in his late thirties with a face reflecting both youthful energy and the weight of responsibilities, descended the stairs with luggage in hand. His casual attire suggested he was used to balancing work and family life. Reaching for the car keys by the door, he paused, listening to the activity echoing from upstairs. A smile crept across his face.

Stepping into the sunlight, he squinted against its brightness and loaded his luggage into the trunk of a modest sedan. Upstairs, Michelle's voice rang out. "Emily, we're leaving soon!" Her words were met by muffled sounds of a teenager procrastinating from behind a closed door.

Michelle emerged from the bedroom, her arms full of well-worn maps of California, Nevada, and a dog-eared guide to Las Vegas. Her gaze lingered on a framed UCLA biology degree on the wall. For a moment she allowed herself to absorb the familiar feeling of nostalgia and missed opportunities – it was more than just a piece of paper; it symbolized a chapter filled with late-night study sessions and dreams of changing the world. Now, years later, the world had changed her in unexpected ways.

With a soft sigh, Michelle shook off her reverie and continued to the kitchen. A pre-packed bag of road trip snacks sat on the counter. As she grabbed it, her fingers brushed against a sticky note adorned with Emily's messy scrawl – a last-minute request for her favorite chips.

In the upstairs hallway, a packed suitcase labeled "EMILY" sat outside a closed door, marking a silent victory in parenting a teenager. Michelle's lips quirked into a small smile at the sight – perhaps this trip wouldn't be as chaotic as she'd feared.

As Gary re-entered the house, his eyes met Michelle's on the stairs, a wordless exchange speaking volumes - shared memories, silent encouragement, and the quiet hope that this journey might inject spontaneity into their well-worn routines. This was a rare opportunity to reconnect and break free from the comfortable monotony that had enveloped their lives. Gary took a deep breath. He too was filled with anticipation and determined to face whatever Emily and fate had in store for them this weekend... ready for battle.

*

Highway I-10 stretched before them, a river of cars packed with commuters and weekend travelers flowing through the heart of the city. The sun hung high and bright, casting sharp shadows across the urban landscape, bathing everything in intense afternoon light. Inside their modest sedan, the family settled into the early stages of their weekend journey.

Gary navigated through the dense ebb and flow typical of a Friday afternoon in West LA. Lanes merged and separated with the stop-and-start rhythm of traffic. Beside him, Michelle absently fiddled with the radio, searching for a cultural program or good music or both, as long as it made a fitting soundtrack to their road trip. In the backseat, Emily was immersed in her phone, her curious eyes occasionally darting up to take in the passing urban scenery. Tall office buildings and billboards crowded the horizon, a kaleidoscope of metal and glass, with the harsh midday sunlight emphasizing stark geometric lines.

"We're making good time," Gary remarked, glancing at the dashboard clock. 2:45 PM. The weekend stretched ahead of them, promising adventure. As they inched forward through congested westside arteries, their weekend plans filled the car with excitement and familiar banter.

"So, what's the first stop on our grand adventure?" Gary asked, his eyes briefly meeting Michelle's in the rearview mirror. Michelle consulted her meticulously planned itinerary. "I thought we could make a quick detour to that quirky roadside attraction you love. You know, the one with the giant—"

"Thermometer!" Emily chimed in from the backseat, momentarily looking up from her phone. "Dad, are you really going to make us stop there again?" Gary chuckled warmly. "Hey, it's tradition! And another picture for the ‘gram. Besides, how else will we know if we're driving into the hottest place on Earth?"

As their banter continued, Gary's attention was drawn to a vehicle gliding through traffic in the right lane—a sleek autonomous vehicle with tinted windows gleaming in the sunlight. Its body was a masterpiece of aerodynamic design, smooth curves slicing through the air effortlessly. For miles, Gary's car and the autonomous vehicle engaged in an unintentional dance, alternating positions as traffic ebbed and flowed. The contrast between their traditional vehicle and the driverless marvel beside them was stark—a glimpse into a future rapidly becoming present.

Emily leaned forward between the front seats, eyes wide with fascination. "Look at those sensors on the side," she exclaimed, pointing at cameras and sensors seamlessly integrated into its bodywork. "I bet it can see everything around it."

Gary nodded, impressed despite himself. "You've got to hand it to them; that's one good-looking machine."

As they drew closer, details of the AV became clearer. Its front fascia was dominated by a large circular LED array. Its “eye” glowed softly, exuding an almost lifelike presence. The absence of a traditional grille was striking—a smooth surface that seemed to absorb light around it. Multiple LiDAR sensors were spread across the vehicle, integrated into the front fascia and bumpers at both ends, with a central LiDAR dome perched on its roof.

"Dad, isn't that one of those WayMo cars?" Emily asked excitedly.

Gary shook his head, eyes fixed on the remarkable vehicle. "Not a WayMo, Emmy; it's a self-driving car. They call it AV—autonomous vehicle."

Emily pressed her face against the cool window glass. "So cool. There's no one sitting in the driver's seat."

Gary craned his neck for a better look without swerving off-road. "Can you see if there are any passengers?"