“Why not take one of armored assault vehicles studded with missiles?”

“Don’t you feel that will attract attention outside the uniMIND campus?”

“I am unconcerned about attracting attention,” ADA says.

The guard is almost upon us now and is speaking into a walkie-talkie. She is saying things like “out of her cage” and “wrecked a security bot” and “the boy’s out too.”

“I think the car would be a better choice,” I tell ADA.

“I will go along with your choice. But if you are wrong, there will be . . . consequences.”

We pile into the car, me in the driver’s seat with Proto in my lap, ADA beside me, and Trashbot in the back seat.

“Do you know how to drive?” ADA asks.

“I have seen it done before.”

“Does that mean yes or no?”

“Yes, it means either yes or no.”

ADA blinks at me.

I press the big round green button on the dashboard, hoping it will start the engine.

“Programming is thirty percent complete,” says a voice. “Do you wish to operate me before full programming?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Do you accept full liability for any damage caused by operating me before full programming is complete?”

I remember Gina talking about liability one time when she was on the phone to the insurance company after I started a kitchen fire by trying to dry my clothes in the oven. “Liability” means that everything is your fault.

The security guard is pulling my door handle and banging on the window, demanding that we get out of the vehicle.

“I accept liability,” I say.

“State destination,” says the car.

“Take us to the highway, please. Maximum speed.”

Maximum speed turns out to be very fast.

With a screech of tires on concrete, the car backs out of the parking space. The security guards jumps away, barely avoiding impact, and in an instant we are thundering down the floor of the garage. Directly toward a metal gate blocking the exit.

“Barrier detected,” the car says.

“Drive through it,” ADA commands.

“Do you wish to accept full liability for any damage incurred by a collision?”

I look behind us. The security guard is running to catch up, still screaming into her walkie-talkie.

“Yes, Cog will accept liability,” ADA tells the car.

And so, with the roar of a very powerful engine, the car accelerates toward the metal barrier.

I don’t think ADA cares what “liability” means.

Chapter 8

LATER, AFTER THE CAR HAS crashed through the security barrier, sped down the roads of the uniMIND campus, and swerved and bounced and zigzagged to the highway, we assess our damage.

The pain sensors in my back and neck are in the yellow from being thrown around the car.

Proto has a small dent in his head from when the car went up a curb and Proto flew into the dashboard.

ADA is undamaged.

Trashbot is undamaged.

The car is undamaged.

“Please state your destination,” the car says.