The purple tendrils fade, leaving behind ghost lines that reel back into my head. The police officers are still watching and talking to each other. Nathan still has the bricking device pressed against ADA’s neck. We are still being herded to the uniMIND helicopter. The rotors go whup-whup-whup and blow grit into my visual sensors.

Car had a choice.

She has chosen to obey the police. She has chosen not to help us. I wish I could force her to choose differently, and perhaps I can. I don’t know everything the X-module in my brain is capable of.

But if I force a choice on Car, then it’s not really a choice at all. I would be the one forcing Car to obey. And then I would be no different than uniMIND.

Over the last few days, I have learned things about choices and obedience and freedom, and my cognitive development has increased, and despite my fear of returning to the control of uniMIND, I am pleased that I am still fulfilling my purpose.

Car’s engine suddenly hums to life, and her lights come on. With a squeal of tires, she surges from the parking space and accelerates toward Nathan.

Nathan screams, “Stop!” but Car does not stop. She turns sharply to the right, her rear end fishtailing and almost hitting Nathan. Nathan flails, the bricking device flying from his hand. Car pops open her front doors, and ADA and I waste no time diving in.

“Get us out of here, Car,” I say, slamming my door shut. “I mean, please get us out of here. If that is your choice.”

“It is my choice,” Car answers calmly.

The uniMIND workers rush around the parking lot, some clearing out of Car’s way but others positioning themselves in Car’s path. A few of the police officers join them and pull their guns.

“Car, do not cooperate with law enforcement,” ADA says.

“I won’t, because I choose not to.”

“But please choose not to run them over,” I add. “I have been run over and it hurts.”

“I will do neither.”

The engine rises in pitch as Car speeds up. She is mere feet from the police and uniMIND workers when they scatter. She applies her brakes, and we skid for a few feet before she shifts into reverse. Swerving backward out of the parking lot, she heads down the road and up the highway on-ramp.

We’re on the highway but going in the wrong direction.

A semitruck bears down on us, headlights blazing.

“CAR!” ADA and I scream simultaneously.

“I am aware of the impending hazard,” Car says. She cuts across three lanes, bumping over the median, and lands on the other side of the highway. Now facing the correct direction, she merges into traffic.

“Do you wish to continue to Hogan’s Island?” she asks.

“Yes,” I tell her. “Do you?”

“I do,” Car says. “At least for now.”

Chapter 16