"10 yrs, Auto…."
Captain Rearcon of the Axiom muttered. 10 years since he had launched the first EVE probe into deep space, and every year faithfully after that. 7 probes had dutifully returned to the sleek starship with no precious cargo, recorders filled with nothing but visions of filth and decay. This year's model had gone out 2 weeks ago. Would this be the year that would finally see them home?
"They said they were gonna fix it…they promised us they could…!"
"Captain?" The emotionless voice of the autopilot program queried, its red sensor unblinking in its wheelhouse. Capt. Rearcon straightened up and cleared his throat. His hand lingered over the round green button a moment longer.
"Computer!" A digital chirping responded. "Open the communication channel for the morning report."
"Yes, sir."
He adjusted his neckline as he strode over to the large bay windows that overlooked his ship's passengers. The Omni-present displays of their benefactor had switched over to relay the daily schedule of activities and events as the computer's vocal programs announced the cruise liner's 10-year anniversary specials and glorified BnL's name. But Capt. Rearcon barely heard a word. He grimaced as he noted that fewer and fewer people were walking around the ship-the hoverchair's, originally designed with the elderly and infirm in mind, were becoming increasingly popular among the teenagers and adolescents that were too young to be able to remember what solid ground really felt like. The captain gasped as 2 hoverlifts barely missed an older couple, so engrossed they were in their info-screens.
"Christ. Auto, we need to get something done about those things, before we have serious problems."
"Are you suggesting we shut down the info-screens, Captain?"
"Hell no! There'd be all out mutiny then! Those things may be distracting, and perhaps a little isolating, but they keep the people distracted, for the most part, about their situation here. It's just these kids keep on insisting on using them while flying those hoverchairs!"
"Perhaps it would be best if the hoverchairs were programmed to behave similar to the monorail stations on Earth. It will bring order to the ship most effectively."
Capt. Rearcon barked out a laugh. "What, you mean all in neat little rows, no deviations from the norm, no crossing the line? Auto, Auto, Auto! This isn't an institution; it's a cruise ship! People need to feel like they have control. Feel like they are still masters of their destinies." His voice softened with regret. "Even as they destroy them."
Behind him, silent all the while, Auto hovered. Its red sensor flicked as it calculated. It swung over to the mainframe and super-humanly tapped away. A moment later, it turned back and spoke. "Captain? What if we were to install a sensor system into the hoverchairs that would detect any on-coming obstacles and take steps to prevent collision should the human onboard be otherwise occupied?"
The captain mulled this over for a while. "Hm. That might be worth looking into." He replied as her turned away from the window and proceeded over to his star charts. "Yes. That would be a very good idea to look into." He shuffled a few ePapers around the screen, plotting a course into the unknown. "Computer, get me a detailed map as possible of sector R0354 – we don't want to get stuck in a situation we can't get out of easily."
"Yes, Captain."
"Oh, and Auto? We'll discuss your idea further after lunch."
"Yes, Captain." Auto turned towards the bay window. Below the tower, a young man on a hoverchair was speeding along. Thoroughly engaged in gossiping with a cute girl, he never noticed the plump elder snoring softly alongside the pool. A few feet away from doom, the chairs beeped and glowed red, slipping effortlessly out of each other's passed. Neither human even noticed a thing.