为了你的安全 For Your Safety
By Elliotte Rusty Harold
Translate By Emily
2015-06
彗星科幻
Robyn breezed out the sliding glass doors of the the Stop 'N Shop, groceries in one arm, coffee in the other. It was a pleasant California spring day and all she had to carry was diapers and milk so she could walk home if she liked. On the other hand, she needed to pee, and she’d left Jennie asleep in her crib. She probably should have taken the baby with her, but Jennie was sleeping peacefully; and it just felt so good to be a normal adult human being for a few minutes instead of a care-giving milk machine for a crying, screaming, bundle of need. Mom-shaming paranoia be damned, a nine-month old could survive alone for thirty minutes without someone hovering over her like an excessively protective surveillance drone.
Still, she’d had her break; and she really did need to pee soon. She’d better save the ten minute walk and call a car. Robyn balanced the paper coffee cup on the grocery bag and fumbled for her phone in her She. Robyn thumbed the blue AutoTaxi icon and pressed the big “Pick Me Up” button that would summon a car to her current location. A friendly green bubble popped up promising her a car was on its way.
Robyn slipped the phone back into her purse and sipped the coffee. How did anyone live before AutoTaxi? It made life so much more civilized. She hated to think how much of her life she’d wasted on the hassle of driving her own car: traffic jams, flat tires, patronizing mechanics, parking, and a thousand other little time sinks.
Robyn hadn’t finished her third sip of coffee before a bubble-shaped blue car pulled into the near-empty lot, looking like a cross between a golf cart and an oversized turtle. The car rolled to a halt in front of her and played the trademarked five note electronic ditty on its horn to announce its arrival, Dee Doo Daa Dee Dee. The driver’s side door slid open. Funny how she still thought of it as the driver’s side, since lack of a driver was the whole point of an AutoTaxi. Robyn tossed the grocery bag and her purse onto the shotgun seat and slid in. The seat belt buckled itself across her chest as the door slid shut.
“Welcome to AutoTaxi, your personal chauffeur when you need it,” said the car’s reassuringly calm voice. “Your requested destination is 3210 Vassar Street. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” Robyn thought about adding “and step on it please because I really need to pee” but there was no point. AutoTaxis were infuriatingly perfect drivers. The car wouldn’t go one mile an hour above the speed limit even if she was about to pee on the seat. Her house was only four blocks away. She could hold it.
“Estimated time of arrival three minutes.” The car started up toward the parking lot exit as Robyn relaxed back into the faux leather seat and sipped her coffee.
Then the world started to shake.
Robyn dropped the cup and grabbed the sides of her seat. The cup bounced down her legs and hit the floor, spilling hot liquid everywhere. She shrieked, more from surprise than pain. The car was bouncing and moving from side to side. Robyn was clenching the seat so hard her hands went white. Her teeth felt like they were vibrating out of her skull. What the hell was happening?
The car answered her unspoken question. “Local traffic control reports a magnitude 8.2 earthquake. Emergency protocols activated. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Robyn panicked. Jennie was home alone. If the house collapsed, or there was gas leak, or a fire— “Drive! Get me home now!”
“Selected address is within designated emergency area. Rerouting to nearest emergency shelter. Estimated time of arrival now 42 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
The earth had stopped moving and the car began to pull slowly out of the lot; but it turned right onto Harvard Street instead of left.
The damn thing was going the wrong way! Horrifying images of the ceiling caved in on top of Jennie’s crib or a fire burning through the doorway of her bedroom raced through Robyn’s mind. She didn't have time for this stupid car. She could run if she had to. Robyn began fumbling at the seat belt which stubbornly refused to open no matter how furiously she stabbed the button.
“The seat belt has been locked for your protection. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Arghh! Did she have anything with her that could cut the belt? No, just diapers and milk. What the hell was she going to do?
Sirens sounded in the distance. The seat belt strapped her in too tight to move her body, but by twisting her neck and bending it backwards she could see out the rear window a bit. Smoke! Something in the direction of her house was on fire and sending thick billowing clouds of black smoke into the air.
“Please, please, take me home,” she pleaded. She was near tears now. “It's not far. Or let me out. I can walk from here.”
“Due to emergency, this vehicle cannot proceed to original destination. You will be brought to the nearest emergency shelter. You will not be charged extra for this detour. Estimated time of arrival is now one hour, 17 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Robyn pounded her fists on the dashboard as the car inched down the street at a perfect twenty miles an hour. Stupid, stupid car!
She cradled her head in her hands and started to cry. Then she felt the car slow down. She looked up to see why it had come to a halt. A large oak had fallen across the road. The car inched forward, then backed up. It turned a bit, inched forward again, then stopped again.
“The tree is blocking the road!” she screamed. “Can't you just take me home, you fucking car?”
“Calculating alternate route,” the car said in a dispassionate voice that showed no offense at Robyn’s insults and shared no hint of her frustration. “Estimated time of arrival now two hours, 34 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.” The car executed a perfect three-point turn and began slowly rolling back down Harvard Street the way they had come.
At least it was now moving in the right direction. Robyn could see more clearly out the front windshield. The smoke was coming from six or seven blocks ahead and a block or two over. It could be her house.
The sirens were louder now and coming from many directions. Were they at her house? Would the fire fighters see the fluorescent “Baby Inside” stickers on the windows? She imagined a fireman coming out of the house, her precious little baby's dead body cradled in his arms as she watched helpless. Why had she left her alone? Why hadn’t she asked Mrs. Gideon next door to watch her?
Mrs. Gideon! She'd been so focused on trying to get out of the car, she’d forgotten her phone. Mrs. Gideon would get Jennie. Where was her purse? It should be on the other seat, but she didn’t see it. Frantically, she turned her head side to side. It had to be here somewhere. The groceries had fallen off the seat onto the floor during the quake. Maybe the purse too? Yes! A bit of tan leather was peeking out from under the bag.
She reached for it, but the seatbelt stopped her six inches short.
“For your safety, the seat belt has been locked until arrival at destination. Please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Robyn screamed incoherently. Think. There had to be a way. She couldn't reach the bag with her arm, but maybe with her foot?
Tentatively she leaned left as far as the seat belt let her until she was splayed diagonally across the seat. The belt was tight, but it didn't restrain her movements completely. She extended her right foot. Her leg burned as it stretched further than it was accustomed. Why hadn't she kept up with the yoga after Jennie was born? Ignore the pain. The unusual tension in her abdominal muscles pushed on her already full bladder. Right now that was the least of her worries. There! Her right foot hooked the leather strap.
Careful not to drop the bag, she pulled her ankle up and retracted her knee. She felt a tug—the purse must be wedged into something—and for a second she thought it was going to slip off, but then it popped out and she grabbed it with her right hand.
Robyn felt like shouting in triumph as she pulled the phone out of her purse. Using two hands she unlocked it, thumbed through the contacts, and hit the entry for Mrs. Gideon.
This time the phone spoke, “Outside service area.”
“Damn it!” The earthquake must have knocked out the local cell towers.
As if to mock her, the car added, “Network connectivity lost. Continuing on previous route. Estimated time of arrival now three hours, 17 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
The car was limping along at a leisurely five miles per hour, carefully finding its way around every downed tree, sparking power line, and broken piece of asphalt. They were only one block over from Vassar Aisle and travelling parallel. The smoke got thicker as the car got closer. She recognized some of the houses on this street. The Grafs’ craftsman bungalow was leaning precipitously, and the Babbits’ house had collapsed completely.
Even through the AutoTaxi’s climate control, Robyn could smell smoke. She was starting to sweat. Was it actually getting hotter? Flames were shooting up from somewhere behind Mr. Valdez’s house. They could only be from a house on the next block, her block.
If she could get out of the car, she could sprint down the McCauleys’ driveway and through the back yard and be home in less than a minute. But she might as well be a thousand miles away for all the good it did her.
Robyn lost it. She started banging her hands wildly against anything she could reach. She pounded on the door, the dashboard, the windshield, venting her frustration and anger at the stupid car and the stupid designers who hadn’t built in a simple manual door handle.
“For your safety, please do not attempt to—”
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Why won’t you just let me out you stupid fucking plastic piece of shit! My baby’s alone and crying and probably burning up in a fire; and I’ll blame it on you and sue you and my breasts are leaking and I need to pee and—”
“Rest stop requested. Rerouting. Estimated time of arrival at nearest public facility: three minutes.”
Robyn paused. Was the car really programmed to stop to let her pee? She held her breath as it executed another three-point turn and began inching back up the street it had spent seventeen painstaking minutes traversing. Three minutes later it rolled into the parking lot of the same Stop ’N Shop where her captivity had begun. When her seat belt unbuckled and the door slid open, she didn’t know whether to cry or cheer. Instead she pulled herself out of the car as quickly as she could before the car changed its mind and locked her back in.
Robyn took off at a run. One block across and three blocks down. She cut down Homer and turned onto Vassar. The smoke was definitely thicker here than it had been just one block over. People were standing on their lawns looking dazed. The quake had torn up the sidewalks and some of the street so she stuck to the middle of the road as best she could.
As Robyn crossed Milburn, her breath caught. The Gideons’ house was on fire. Black smoke was pouring off the roof and flames were leaping through the windows. There were no fire trucks anywhere. They must be responding to other fires. Her house on the far side hadn’t caught fire yet; but sparks were flying everywhere. The whole neighborhood could go up. The smoke was already choking her lungs.
Robyn covered her mouth with her hand and squinted her eyes. She sprinted past the Gideons’ house as fast as she could, the fire hot on her side. She cut across her own lawn and ran for the door. She thought she could her Jennie crying inside the house. Frantic, she fumbled in her purse for the keys. They weren’t there. They must have fallen out of the purse in the quake.
The front door was heavy and dead-bolted. Robyn was too panicked to care. She backed up to the front of the porch, then smashed herself against the door. It broke open, wood flying everywhere. Robyn raced to the bedroom and found Jennie still in her crib, bawling her eyes out but thankfully still alive and unharmed.
Robyn scooped her up and ran for the front door. As she sprinted past the kitchen, her nose caught the sulfurous odor of a gas leak. If it caught a spark, they were dead. She jumped over the wreckage of the front door and came out into a thick wall of black smoke. In the thirty seconds it had taken her to grab Jennie, smoke from the fire next door had completely covered her house.
Jennie coughed. Robyn looked down and could barely see her. Her eyes were stinging. In a minute she wouldn’t be able to see at all. What the hell could she do now?
A shape loomed at her out of the smoke, and Robyn stumbled backwards.
“Dee Doo Daa Dee Dee. If your rest stop is complete, please reenter the vehicle so that we may continue to your destination.”
The damned AutoTaxi was still trying to take her to her destination. She didn’t know how it had followed her down the broken street through the smoke, but right now she didn’t care. She flung herself into the driver’s seat, Jennie held tight in her arms. The seatbelt closed across the both of them and the door slid shut.
“Resuming route. Estimated time of arrival now four hours, 58 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Robyn sobbed in relief as the car began to back slowly out across her lawn. She was safe. Jennie was safe. She sat in the seat breathing heavily and holding tight to Jennie until the adrenaline drained away. She still needed to pee. She thought about asking the car to make another rest stop, but decided, uncomfortable as it was, to hold it.
END
***
罗宾轻轻地推开“走过路过”商店的滑拉玻璃门,一只手拿着些杂货,另一只手拿了咖啡。这是加利福尼亚一个令人愉快的春天,她只是拿着些尿布和牛奶,所以如果愿意,可以走着回家。另一方面,她想要上厕所,而且珍妮还留在婴儿床上。她或许应该带着宝宝在身边,但珍妮正平静地睡着;能有几分钟做一个正常成年人,而不是被哭泣尖叫捆绑的被需要的看孩子的喂奶机,这种感觉真好。“当妈自责综合症”太可怕了,就算身边没人像没事找事的无人机一样围着,一个九个月大的孩子也肯定能独自生存三十分钟。
她平静地休息了一会;她真的赶紧要上厕所。她最好叫一辆车,省下十分钟走路时间。罗宾稳了稳食品杂货袋上放的纸咖啡杯,摸索着她的电话。罗宾用拇指拨弄着自动的士的蓝色图标,叫辆车来她这里。一个友好的绿色信息泡泡跳了出来,提示她有辆车已在路上。
罗宾把电话放回钱包,小口喝着咖啡。在自动的士之前人们是怎么过来的?它让生活文明太多了。她想想浪费到自己开车上的麻烦生活都觉得讨厌:交通堵塞,轮胎瘪了,机器保养,停车,还有其他各种数不清的耽误时间。
还没等罗宾喝完第三口咖啡,一辆圆顶蓝车驶入了附近的空位,看上去的样子介于一个高尔夫球车和一个超大号海龟之间。车轮转动,停在她面前,喇叭里播放标志性的五声电子音符小调,嘀嘟嗒嘀嘀,宣告着车到了。驾驶侧的门慢慢打开。有意思,她总是觉得这是驾驶的一侧,然而自动的士的核心概念就是没人开车。罗宾把杂物袋和她的钱包扔到了副驾驶位上。门关上的同时,安全带自动在胸前扣上。
“欢迎使用自动的士,你需要时的个人司机。”汽车的语调平静得让人放心。“你请求的目的地是瓦萨大街3210号。是否正确?”
“是的。”罗宾想了想,又添了句“开快点,我真的想要小便了”但没什么用。自动的士是完美得让人生气的司机。汽车跑起来不会超过限速,每小时一英里都不可能超过。哪怕她就要尿到座位上。她距房子只有四个街区。她可以忍得住。
“预计到达时间三分钟。”汽车向停车场出口开去,罗宾放松坐回到人造皮革座椅上,小口喝着咖啡。
之后世界开始摇晃。
罗宾放下杯子,抓住座椅的边。杯子弹到她的腿,落在地上,热热的液体洒得到处都是。她尖叫出来,更多是因为惊讶,而不是疼痛。汽车从一边跳到另一边。罗宾牢牢抓住座位,她的手都变白了。她的牙齿感觉像要从头骨上震掉了。到底怎么回事?
汽车回答了她没问出来的问题。"当地交通管制报告一起里氏8.2级地震。紧急协议激活。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。"
罗宾惊惶失措。珍妮独自在家。如果房子倒塌,或者气体泄露,或者着火——“开车!现在送我回家!”
“选定的地址在指定的紧急区域内。重新选择路线至最近的紧急避难所。现在预计到达时间42分钟。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
地面停止了晃动,车开始缓慢地开动;但它右转进入哈佛街,而没有左转。
这该死的东西走的路不对!恐怖的画面冲进罗宾的脑袋,天花板塌陷掉到珍妮的婴儿床上,或者是火漫过她卧室的门口。她没有时间留给这辆笨车。如果有必要她可以跑过去。罗宾开始摸索着想解开顽固的安全带,但无论她怎么猛烈地戳下按钮都不行。
“为保护您,安全带已被锁定。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
啊!她有什么可以切开安全带的东西吗?没有,只有尿布和牛奶。她到底应该怎么做?
远处警笛响起。安全带捆得太紧,她身体动不了,但扭脖子向后转,她可以从后窗看到一点外面。烟!她房子的方向有什么着火了,空气中滚起厚厚的黑色烟浪。
“请求,请求,带我回家,”她恳求着。她已经快要哭了。“不远了。或者让我下车。我可以从这里走过去。”
“由于情况紧急,车辆不能前往原目的地。你将被带到最近的紧急避难所。你不会被收取额外的绕道费用。现在的预计到达时间是1小时17分。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
罗宾的拳头敲打着仪表盘,车子以二十英里每小时的速度缓缓地开向街道。笨蛋,笨蛋汽车!
她用手抱住头,哭了起来。之后她感觉汽车慢了下来。她抬头看看为什么要停车。一棵巨大的橡树横倒在马路上。汽车缓缓向前,之后倒退。它稍转,再缓慢向前,之后再次停下。
“树挡住路了!”她尖叫着。“你就不能带我回家,你这破车?”
“计算替换路线,”汽车冷静地说着,既感受不到罗宾的辱骂,也察觉不到她内心的沮丧。“现在预计到达时间2小时34分。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”汽车一个完美的三点掉头,开始慢慢地掉头返回他们来时的原路哈佛街。
至少现在是向正确的方向前进。罗宾可以从前挡风玻璃看得更清楚。烟雾是来自六或七个街区之前,一两个街区的误差。那可能是她的房子。
这时候警报声更大了,各个方向都有。他们已经在她家了吗?消防员看到窗上贴的“内有婴儿”荧光贴了吗?她想象着一个消防队员从房子里出来,怀里抱着她小宝贝的尸体,她无助地看着。为什么她把孩子独自留下?为什么她没有让隔壁的吉迪恩太太看着她?
吉迪恩太太!她太专注怎么从车里出去,忘了她的电话。吉迪恩太太可以找到珍妮。她的钱包在哪里?它应该在另一个座位上,但她没看到。她疯狂地来回转头。一定在这里的某个地方。地震时杂货都从座位上掉到了地上。或许钱包也掉下去了?是的!包下面露出一点点褐色皮革。
她用手去拿,但安全带绑住了她,差六英寸。
“为了您的安全,到达目的地前,安全带已被锁定。请不要试图下车。”
罗宾尖叫着,语无伦次。想想。一定有办法。她不能用手够到包,但也许用脚可以?
她试着在安全带中尽可能地倾向左边,直到她打斜着越过座位。带子很紧,但没有完全限制她的活动。她伸出右脚。她的腿伸得比平时远,感觉像快烧着了。为什么珍妮出生后她没有继续练瑜珈?忽略疼痛。腹部肌肉不同寻常的拉力压迫着她已满的膀胱。现在那是她最不担心的了。在那里!她的右脚钩住皮带。
她小心地防止袋子掉下,抬起脚踝,收回膝盖。她感觉要用力拉——钱包一定是挤到什么里面了——有一秒她以为钱包要滑落了,但之后弹了出来,她用右手抓住钱包。
罗宾把手机从钱包里拿出来,感觉要欢呼胜利了。解锁,浏览联系人,找到吉迪恩太太。
然后电话说,“不在服务区。”
“该死!”地震一定是摧毁了当地的发射塔。
仿佛要嘲笑她,车子补充说,“网络连接丢失。继续之前路线。现在预计到达时间3小时17分,为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
汽车步履蹒跚地以每小时5英里的速度从容行驶着,小心地在一棵棵倒下的树,一根根冒着火花的电力线和一片片破碎的沥青之间找寻路线。这条路和瓦萨大街平行,中间只隔一个街区了。车越近,烟越浓。她认识这条街上的一些房子。格拉夫家的工匠屋陡峭倾斜,巴比特家的房子完全倒塌了。
即使自动的士有空气过滤,罗宾也闻到了烟。她开始流汗。外面是越来越热了?火焰从巴尔德斯家房子后面的某个地方冒出来。火只可能来自下一个街区,她家的街区。
如果她可以从车里出去,她能冲过麦考利的车道,通过后院不过一分钟就到家。但这种好事距离她相去甚远。
罗宾崩溃了。她的双手开始疯狂地敲打着任何能够到的东西。她敲着门,仪表盘,挡风玻璃,对这辆笨汽车,以及没有造一个简单的手动门把手的笨设计者们发泄她的不满和愤怒。
“为了您的安全,请不要试图——”
“闭嘴!闭嘴!闭嘴!为什么你就不能让我出去你这堆笨塑料片!我的孩子正一个人,正在哭,可能正陷入大火;我就怪你,我要告你,我的乳房渗出奶了,我要上厕所,还有——”
“停车休息请求收到。重新选择路线。预计到达最近公共设施的时间:3分钟。”
罗宾停下来。这汽车真的有程序停下来让她上厕所?她屏住呼吸,车子又一个三点掉头,开始缓慢沿着刚刚花了17分钟艰苦穿越的街道返回。3分钟之后,车开回了她被关起来的起点,那家“走过路过”商店的停车场。她的安全带解开了,门滑开,她不知道该哭还是欢呼。最终她选择在车子改变主意把她锁回去之前尽快下车。
罗宾飞跑起来。跨过一个街区,还有三个街区。她越过荷马路转向瓦萨路。这里的烟肯定比一个街区之外更浓。人们站在他们的草坪上,看起来晕头转向。地震撕裂了人行道和一些街道,所以她尽可能地走在路中间。
罗宾穿过米尔本路时,无法呼吸了。吉迪恩家的房子着火了。黑烟从屋顶流下,火焰从窗户跳跃而出。四下没有消防车。他们一定是去救其他的火灾了。她的房子在另一边没有着火;但火花到处飞。这附近会可能整个烧起来。烟已经呛入她的肺。
罗宾用手捂住嘴,眯起眼睛。她以最快的速度冲过吉迪恩家的房子,身旁就是热浪翻滚。她跨过自己家的草坪跑到门口。她想她的珍妮可能正在房间里哭。她疯狂地翻着钱包找钥匙。没有。钥匙一定是在地震中掉出了钱包。
前门沉得很,关得死死的。罗宾慌到忘了这点。她退到门廊外,用自己身体砸向门。门破开了,木头到处飞。罗宾跑到卧室发现珍妮还在她的婴儿床上,眼睛都哭肿了,但谢天谢地还活着,毫发无损。
罗宾抱起她跑向前门。她冲过厨房时,她的鼻子闻到了瓦斯泄露的硫磺气味。如果沾到一点火花,他们就死了。她跳过前门的残骸,跳进厚厚的黑烟墙中。在她抓住珍妮的三十秒内,从隔壁过来的烟火完全覆盖了她的房子。
珍妮咳嗽着。罗宾低头看,几乎看不到她。她的眼睛感到刺痛。有一会她什么都看不到了。她现在怎么办?
有一个形状在烟雾中隐约出现。罗宾踉跄退开。
“嘀嘟嗒嘀嘀。如果你的停车休息已完毕,请进入车辆,以便我们可以继续去你的目的地。”
该死的自动的士仍然试图把她带到目的地。她不知道它怎么穿过烟雾跟着她来到破碎的街道,但现在她不在乎。她冲到驾驶座上,珍妮紧紧抱在她怀里。安全带扣住他们,门滑动关上。
“恢复路线。现在预计到达时间4小时58分。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
罗宾放松地哭出来,汽车慢慢地开过她的草坪。她安全了。珍妮安全了。她坐在座位上喘着粗气,抱紧珍妮,直到肾上腺素用光。她还是想上厕所。她想让汽车再停车休息一下,但决定,虽然不舒服,还是忍着。
「完」
—————————————————————————--
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By Elliotte Rusty Harold
Translate By Emily
2015-06
彗星科幻
Robyn breezed out the sliding glass doors of the the Stop 'N Shop, groceries in one arm, coffee in the other. It was a pleasant California spring day and all she had to carry was diapers and milk so she could walk home if she liked. On the other hand, she needed to pee, and she’d left Jennie asleep in her crib. She probably should have taken the baby with her, but Jennie was sleeping peacefully; and it just felt so good to be a normal adult human being for a few minutes instead of a care-giving milk machine for a crying, screaming, bundle of need. Mom-shaming paranoia be damned, a nine-month old could survive alone for thirty minutes without someone hovering over her like an excessively protective surveillance drone.
Still, she’d had her break; and she really did need to pee soon. She’d better save the ten minute walk and call a car. Robyn balanced the paper coffee cup on the grocery bag and fumbled for her phone in her She. Robyn thumbed the blue AutoTaxi icon and pressed the big “Pick Me Up” button that would summon a car to her current location. A friendly green bubble popped up promising her a car was on its way.
Robyn slipped the phone back into her purse and sipped the coffee. How did anyone live before AutoTaxi? It made life so much more civilized. She hated to think how much of her life she’d wasted on the hassle of driving her own car: traffic jams, flat tires, patronizing mechanics, parking, and a thousand other little time sinks.
Robyn hadn’t finished her third sip of coffee before a bubble-shaped blue car pulled into the near-empty lot, looking like a cross between a golf cart and an oversized turtle. The car rolled to a halt in front of her and played the trademarked five note electronic ditty on its horn to announce its arrival, Dee Doo Daa Dee Dee. The driver’s side door slid open. Funny how she still thought of it as the driver’s side, since lack of a driver was the whole point of an AutoTaxi. Robyn tossed the grocery bag and her purse onto the shotgun seat and slid in. The seat belt buckled itself across her chest as the door slid shut.
“Welcome to AutoTaxi, your personal chauffeur when you need it,” said the car’s reassuringly calm voice. “Your requested destination is 3210 Vassar Street. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” Robyn thought about adding “and step on it please because I really need to pee” but there was no point. AutoTaxis were infuriatingly perfect drivers. The car wouldn’t go one mile an hour above the speed limit even if she was about to pee on the seat. Her house was only four blocks away. She could hold it.
“Estimated time of arrival three minutes.” The car started up toward the parking lot exit as Robyn relaxed back into the faux leather seat and sipped her coffee.
Then the world started to shake.
Robyn dropped the cup and grabbed the sides of her seat. The cup bounced down her legs and hit the floor, spilling hot liquid everywhere. She shrieked, more from surprise than pain. The car was bouncing and moving from side to side. Robyn was clenching the seat so hard her hands went white. Her teeth felt like they were vibrating out of her skull. What the hell was happening?
The car answered her unspoken question. “Local traffic control reports a magnitude 8.2 earthquake. Emergency protocols activated. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Robyn panicked. Jennie was home alone. If the house collapsed, or there was gas leak, or a fire— “Drive! Get me home now!”
“Selected address is within designated emergency area. Rerouting to nearest emergency shelter. Estimated time of arrival now 42 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
The earth had stopped moving and the car began to pull slowly out of the lot; but it turned right onto Harvard Street instead of left.
The damn thing was going the wrong way! Horrifying images of the ceiling caved in on top of Jennie’s crib or a fire burning through the doorway of her bedroom raced through Robyn’s mind. She didn't have time for this stupid car. She could run if she had to. Robyn began fumbling at the seat belt which stubbornly refused to open no matter how furiously she stabbed the button.
“The seat belt has been locked for your protection. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Arghh! Did she have anything with her that could cut the belt? No, just diapers and milk. What the hell was she going to do?
Sirens sounded in the distance. The seat belt strapped her in too tight to move her body, but by twisting her neck and bending it backwards she could see out the rear window a bit. Smoke! Something in the direction of her house was on fire and sending thick billowing clouds of black smoke into the air.
“Please, please, take me home,” she pleaded. She was near tears now. “It's not far. Or let me out. I can walk from here.”
“Due to emergency, this vehicle cannot proceed to original destination. You will be brought to the nearest emergency shelter. You will not be charged extra for this detour. Estimated time of arrival is now one hour, 17 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Robyn pounded her fists on the dashboard as the car inched down the street at a perfect twenty miles an hour. Stupid, stupid car!
She cradled her head in her hands and started to cry. Then she felt the car slow down. She looked up to see why it had come to a halt. A large oak had fallen across the road. The car inched forward, then backed up. It turned a bit, inched forward again, then stopped again.
“The tree is blocking the road!” she screamed. “Can't you just take me home, you fucking car?”
“Calculating alternate route,” the car said in a dispassionate voice that showed no offense at Robyn’s insults and shared no hint of her frustration. “Estimated time of arrival now two hours, 34 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.” The car executed a perfect three-point turn and began slowly rolling back down Harvard Street the way they had come.
At least it was now moving in the right direction. Robyn could see more clearly out the front windshield. The smoke was coming from six or seven blocks ahead and a block or two over. It could be her house.
The sirens were louder now and coming from many directions. Were they at her house? Would the fire fighters see the fluorescent “Baby Inside” stickers on the windows? She imagined a fireman coming out of the house, her precious little baby's dead body cradled in his arms as she watched helpless. Why had she left her alone? Why hadn’t she asked Mrs. Gideon next door to watch her?
Mrs. Gideon! She'd been so focused on trying to get out of the car, she’d forgotten her phone. Mrs. Gideon would get Jennie. Where was her purse? It should be on the other seat, but she didn’t see it. Frantically, she turned her head side to side. It had to be here somewhere. The groceries had fallen off the seat onto the floor during the quake. Maybe the purse too? Yes! A bit of tan leather was peeking out from under the bag.
She reached for it, but the seatbelt stopped her six inches short.
“For your safety, the seat belt has been locked until arrival at destination. Please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Robyn screamed incoherently. Think. There had to be a way. She couldn't reach the bag with her arm, but maybe with her foot?
Tentatively she leaned left as far as the seat belt let her until she was splayed diagonally across the seat. The belt was tight, but it didn't restrain her movements completely. She extended her right foot. Her leg burned as it stretched further than it was accustomed. Why hadn't she kept up with the yoga after Jennie was born? Ignore the pain. The unusual tension in her abdominal muscles pushed on her already full bladder. Right now that was the least of her worries. There! Her right foot hooked the leather strap.
Careful not to drop the bag, she pulled her ankle up and retracted her knee. She felt a tug—the purse must be wedged into something—and for a second she thought it was going to slip off, but then it popped out and she grabbed it with her right hand.
Robyn felt like shouting in triumph as she pulled the phone out of her purse. Using two hands she unlocked it, thumbed through the contacts, and hit the entry for Mrs. Gideon.
This time the phone spoke, “Outside service area.”
“Damn it!” The earthquake must have knocked out the local cell towers.
As if to mock her, the car added, “Network connectivity lost. Continuing on previous route. Estimated time of arrival now three hours, 17 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
The car was limping along at a leisurely five miles per hour, carefully finding its way around every downed tree, sparking power line, and broken piece of asphalt. They were only one block over from Vassar Aisle and travelling parallel. The smoke got thicker as the car got closer. She recognized some of the houses on this street. The Grafs’ craftsman bungalow was leaning precipitously, and the Babbits’ house had collapsed completely.
Even through the AutoTaxi’s climate control, Robyn could smell smoke. She was starting to sweat. Was it actually getting hotter? Flames were shooting up from somewhere behind Mr. Valdez’s house. They could only be from a house on the next block, her block.
If she could get out of the car, she could sprint down the McCauleys’ driveway and through the back yard and be home in less than a minute. But she might as well be a thousand miles away for all the good it did her.
Robyn lost it. She started banging her hands wildly against anything she could reach. She pounded on the door, the dashboard, the windshield, venting her frustration and anger at the stupid car and the stupid designers who hadn’t built in a simple manual door handle.
“For your safety, please do not attempt to—”
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Why won’t you just let me out you stupid fucking plastic piece of shit! My baby’s alone and crying and probably burning up in a fire; and I’ll blame it on you and sue you and my breasts are leaking and I need to pee and—”
“Rest stop requested. Rerouting. Estimated time of arrival at nearest public facility: three minutes.”
Robyn paused. Was the car really programmed to stop to let her pee? She held her breath as it executed another three-point turn and began inching back up the street it had spent seventeen painstaking minutes traversing. Three minutes later it rolled into the parking lot of the same Stop ’N Shop where her captivity had begun. When her seat belt unbuckled and the door slid open, she didn’t know whether to cry or cheer. Instead she pulled herself out of the car as quickly as she could before the car changed its mind and locked her back in.
Robyn took off at a run. One block across and three blocks down. She cut down Homer and turned onto Vassar. The smoke was definitely thicker here than it had been just one block over. People were standing on their lawns looking dazed. The quake had torn up the sidewalks and some of the street so she stuck to the middle of the road as best she could.
As Robyn crossed Milburn, her breath caught. The Gideons’ house was on fire. Black smoke was pouring off the roof and flames were leaping through the windows. There were no fire trucks anywhere. They must be responding to other fires. Her house on the far side hadn’t caught fire yet; but sparks were flying everywhere. The whole neighborhood could go up. The smoke was already choking her lungs.
Robyn covered her mouth with her hand and squinted her eyes. She sprinted past the Gideons’ house as fast as she could, the fire hot on her side. She cut across her own lawn and ran for the door. She thought she could her Jennie crying inside the house. Frantic, she fumbled in her purse for the keys. They weren’t there. They must have fallen out of the purse in the quake.
The front door was heavy and dead-bolted. Robyn was too panicked to care. She backed up to the front of the porch, then smashed herself against the door. It broke open, wood flying everywhere. Robyn raced to the bedroom and found Jennie still in her crib, bawling her eyes out but thankfully still alive and unharmed.
Robyn scooped her up and ran for the front door. As she sprinted past the kitchen, her nose caught the sulfurous odor of a gas leak. If it caught a spark, they were dead. She jumped over the wreckage of the front door and came out into a thick wall of black smoke. In the thirty seconds it had taken her to grab Jennie, smoke from the fire next door had completely covered her house.
Jennie coughed. Robyn looked down and could barely see her. Her eyes were stinging. In a minute she wouldn’t be able to see at all. What the hell could she do now?
A shape loomed at her out of the smoke, and Robyn stumbled backwards.
“Dee Doo Daa Dee Dee. If your rest stop is complete, please reenter the vehicle so that we may continue to your destination.”
The damned AutoTaxi was still trying to take her to her destination. She didn’t know how it had followed her down the broken street through the smoke, but right now she didn’t care. She flung herself into the driver’s seat, Jennie held tight in her arms. The seatbelt closed across the both of them and the door slid shut.
“Resuming route. Estimated time of arrival now four hours, 58 minutes. For your safety, please do not attempt to exit the vehicle.”
Robyn sobbed in relief as the car began to back slowly out across her lawn. She was safe. Jennie was safe. She sat in the seat breathing heavily and holding tight to Jennie until the adrenaline drained away. She still needed to pee. She thought about asking the car to make another rest stop, but decided, uncomfortable as it was, to hold it.
END
***
罗宾轻轻地推开“走过路过”商店的滑拉玻璃门,一只手拿着些杂货,另一只手拿了咖啡。这是加利福尼亚一个令人愉快的春天,她只是拿着些尿布和牛奶,所以如果愿意,可以走着回家。另一方面,她想要上厕所,而且珍妮还留在婴儿床上。她或许应该带着宝宝在身边,但珍妮正平静地睡着;能有几分钟做一个正常成年人,而不是被哭泣尖叫捆绑的被需要的看孩子的喂奶机,这种感觉真好。“当妈自责综合症”太可怕了,就算身边没人像没事找事的无人机一样围着,一个九个月大的孩子也肯定能独自生存三十分钟。
她平静地休息了一会;她真的赶紧要上厕所。她最好叫一辆车,省下十分钟走路时间。罗宾稳了稳食品杂货袋上放的纸咖啡杯,摸索着她的电话。罗宾用拇指拨弄着自动的士的蓝色图标,叫辆车来她这里。一个友好的绿色信息泡泡跳了出来,提示她有辆车已在路上。
罗宾把电话放回钱包,小口喝着咖啡。在自动的士之前人们是怎么过来的?它让生活文明太多了。她想想浪费到自己开车上的麻烦生活都觉得讨厌:交通堵塞,轮胎瘪了,机器保养,停车,还有其他各种数不清的耽误时间。
还没等罗宾喝完第三口咖啡,一辆圆顶蓝车驶入了附近的空位,看上去的样子介于一个高尔夫球车和一个超大号海龟之间。车轮转动,停在她面前,喇叭里播放标志性的五声电子音符小调,嘀嘟嗒嘀嘀,宣告着车到了。驾驶侧的门慢慢打开。有意思,她总是觉得这是驾驶的一侧,然而自动的士的核心概念就是没人开车。罗宾把杂物袋和她的钱包扔到了副驾驶位上。门关上的同时,安全带自动在胸前扣上。
“欢迎使用自动的士,你需要时的个人司机。”汽车的语调平静得让人放心。“你请求的目的地是瓦萨大街3210号。是否正确?”
“是的。”罗宾想了想,又添了句“开快点,我真的想要小便了”但没什么用。自动的士是完美得让人生气的司机。汽车跑起来不会超过限速,每小时一英里都不可能超过。哪怕她就要尿到座位上。她距房子只有四个街区。她可以忍得住。
“预计到达时间三分钟。”汽车向停车场出口开去,罗宾放松坐回到人造皮革座椅上,小口喝着咖啡。
之后世界开始摇晃。
罗宾放下杯子,抓住座椅的边。杯子弹到她的腿,落在地上,热热的液体洒得到处都是。她尖叫出来,更多是因为惊讶,而不是疼痛。汽车从一边跳到另一边。罗宾牢牢抓住座位,她的手都变白了。她的牙齿感觉像要从头骨上震掉了。到底怎么回事?
汽车回答了她没问出来的问题。"当地交通管制报告一起里氏8.2级地震。紧急协议激活。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。"
罗宾惊惶失措。珍妮独自在家。如果房子倒塌,或者气体泄露,或者着火——“开车!现在送我回家!”
“选定的地址在指定的紧急区域内。重新选择路线至最近的紧急避难所。现在预计到达时间42分钟。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
地面停止了晃动,车开始缓慢地开动;但它右转进入哈佛街,而没有左转。
这该死的东西走的路不对!恐怖的画面冲进罗宾的脑袋,天花板塌陷掉到珍妮的婴儿床上,或者是火漫过她卧室的门口。她没有时间留给这辆笨车。如果有必要她可以跑过去。罗宾开始摸索着想解开顽固的安全带,但无论她怎么猛烈地戳下按钮都不行。
“为保护您,安全带已被锁定。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
啊!她有什么可以切开安全带的东西吗?没有,只有尿布和牛奶。她到底应该怎么做?
远处警笛响起。安全带捆得太紧,她身体动不了,但扭脖子向后转,她可以从后窗看到一点外面。烟!她房子的方向有什么着火了,空气中滚起厚厚的黑色烟浪。
“请求,请求,带我回家,”她恳求着。她已经快要哭了。“不远了。或者让我下车。我可以从这里走过去。”
“由于情况紧急,车辆不能前往原目的地。你将被带到最近的紧急避难所。你不会被收取额外的绕道费用。现在的预计到达时间是1小时17分。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
罗宾的拳头敲打着仪表盘,车子以二十英里每小时的速度缓缓地开向街道。笨蛋,笨蛋汽车!
她用手抱住头,哭了起来。之后她感觉汽车慢了下来。她抬头看看为什么要停车。一棵巨大的橡树横倒在马路上。汽车缓缓向前,之后倒退。它稍转,再缓慢向前,之后再次停下。
“树挡住路了!”她尖叫着。“你就不能带我回家,你这破车?”
“计算替换路线,”汽车冷静地说着,既感受不到罗宾的辱骂,也察觉不到她内心的沮丧。“现在预计到达时间2小时34分。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”汽车一个完美的三点掉头,开始慢慢地掉头返回他们来时的原路哈佛街。
至少现在是向正确的方向前进。罗宾可以从前挡风玻璃看得更清楚。烟雾是来自六或七个街区之前,一两个街区的误差。那可能是她的房子。
这时候警报声更大了,各个方向都有。他们已经在她家了吗?消防员看到窗上贴的“内有婴儿”荧光贴了吗?她想象着一个消防队员从房子里出来,怀里抱着她小宝贝的尸体,她无助地看着。为什么她把孩子独自留下?为什么她没有让隔壁的吉迪恩太太看着她?
吉迪恩太太!她太专注怎么从车里出去,忘了她的电话。吉迪恩太太可以找到珍妮。她的钱包在哪里?它应该在另一个座位上,但她没看到。她疯狂地来回转头。一定在这里的某个地方。地震时杂货都从座位上掉到了地上。或许钱包也掉下去了?是的!包下面露出一点点褐色皮革。
她用手去拿,但安全带绑住了她,差六英寸。
“为了您的安全,到达目的地前,安全带已被锁定。请不要试图下车。”
罗宾尖叫着,语无伦次。想想。一定有办法。她不能用手够到包,但也许用脚可以?
她试着在安全带中尽可能地倾向左边,直到她打斜着越过座位。带子很紧,但没有完全限制她的活动。她伸出右脚。她的腿伸得比平时远,感觉像快烧着了。为什么珍妮出生后她没有继续练瑜珈?忽略疼痛。腹部肌肉不同寻常的拉力压迫着她已满的膀胱。现在那是她最不担心的了。在那里!她的右脚钩住皮带。
她小心地防止袋子掉下,抬起脚踝,收回膝盖。她感觉要用力拉——钱包一定是挤到什么里面了——有一秒她以为钱包要滑落了,但之后弹了出来,她用右手抓住钱包。
罗宾把手机从钱包里拿出来,感觉要欢呼胜利了。解锁,浏览联系人,找到吉迪恩太太。
然后电话说,“不在服务区。”
“该死!”地震一定是摧毁了当地的发射塔。
仿佛要嘲笑她,车子补充说,“网络连接丢失。继续之前路线。现在预计到达时间3小时17分,为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
汽车步履蹒跚地以每小时5英里的速度从容行驶着,小心地在一棵棵倒下的树,一根根冒着火花的电力线和一片片破碎的沥青之间找寻路线。这条路和瓦萨大街平行,中间只隔一个街区了。车越近,烟越浓。她认识这条街上的一些房子。格拉夫家的工匠屋陡峭倾斜,巴比特家的房子完全倒塌了。
即使自动的士有空气过滤,罗宾也闻到了烟。她开始流汗。外面是越来越热了?火焰从巴尔德斯家房子后面的某个地方冒出来。火只可能来自下一个街区,她家的街区。
如果她可以从车里出去,她能冲过麦考利的车道,通过后院不过一分钟就到家。但这种好事距离她相去甚远。
罗宾崩溃了。她的双手开始疯狂地敲打着任何能够到的东西。她敲着门,仪表盘,挡风玻璃,对这辆笨汽车,以及没有造一个简单的手动门把手的笨设计者们发泄她的不满和愤怒。
“为了您的安全,请不要试图——”
“闭嘴!闭嘴!闭嘴!为什么你就不能让我出去你这堆笨塑料片!我的孩子正一个人,正在哭,可能正陷入大火;我就怪你,我要告你,我的乳房渗出奶了,我要上厕所,还有——”
“停车休息请求收到。重新选择路线。预计到达最近公共设施的时间:3分钟。”
罗宾停下来。这汽车真的有程序停下来让她上厕所?她屏住呼吸,车子又一个三点掉头,开始缓慢沿着刚刚花了17分钟艰苦穿越的街道返回。3分钟之后,车开回了她被关起来的起点,那家“走过路过”商店的停车场。她的安全带解开了,门滑开,她不知道该哭还是欢呼。最终她选择在车子改变主意把她锁回去之前尽快下车。
罗宾飞跑起来。跨过一个街区,还有三个街区。她越过荷马路转向瓦萨路。这里的烟肯定比一个街区之外更浓。人们站在他们的草坪上,看起来晕头转向。地震撕裂了人行道和一些街道,所以她尽可能地走在路中间。
罗宾穿过米尔本路时,无法呼吸了。吉迪恩家的房子着火了。黑烟从屋顶流下,火焰从窗户跳跃而出。四下没有消防车。他们一定是去救其他的火灾了。她的房子在另一边没有着火;但火花到处飞。这附近会可能整个烧起来。烟已经呛入她的肺。
罗宾用手捂住嘴,眯起眼睛。她以最快的速度冲过吉迪恩家的房子,身旁就是热浪翻滚。她跨过自己家的草坪跑到门口。她想她的珍妮可能正在房间里哭。她疯狂地翻着钱包找钥匙。没有。钥匙一定是在地震中掉出了钱包。
前门沉得很,关得死死的。罗宾慌到忘了这点。她退到门廊外,用自己身体砸向门。门破开了,木头到处飞。罗宾跑到卧室发现珍妮还在她的婴儿床上,眼睛都哭肿了,但谢天谢地还活着,毫发无损。
罗宾抱起她跑向前门。她冲过厨房时,她的鼻子闻到了瓦斯泄露的硫磺气味。如果沾到一点火花,他们就死了。她跳过前门的残骸,跳进厚厚的黑烟墙中。在她抓住珍妮的三十秒内,从隔壁过来的烟火完全覆盖了她的房子。
珍妮咳嗽着。罗宾低头看,几乎看不到她。她的眼睛感到刺痛。有一会她什么都看不到了。她现在怎么办?
有一个形状在烟雾中隐约出现。罗宾踉跄退开。
“嘀嘟嗒嘀嘀。如果你的停车休息已完毕,请进入车辆,以便我们可以继续去你的目的地。”
该死的自动的士仍然试图把她带到目的地。她不知道它怎么穿过烟雾跟着她来到破碎的街道,但现在她不在乎。她冲到驾驶座上,珍妮紧紧抱在她怀里。安全带扣住他们,门滑动关上。
“恢复路线。现在预计到达时间4小时58分。为了您的安全,请不要试图下车。”
罗宾放松地哭出来,汽车慢慢地开过她的草坪。她安全了。珍妮安全了。她坐在座位上喘着粗气,抱紧珍妮,直到肾上腺素用光。她还是想上厕所。她想让汽车再停车休息一下,但决定,虽然不舒服,还是忍着。
「完」
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