Home George

Home George
by
Duncan. J. Fatz

The gum in Kay's mouth no longer bore any resemblance to the
refreshing minty taste sensation that the advertising hoardings
boasted. His finger flicked the switch at his side and the smoked glass
window rolled down, brushing away the drops of water on its surface and
letting in the cold rain washed air.
As the grey chewed mass sailed out of the window to join the yellow
street lamps, flicking past the speeding car, Kay settled back into his
leather seat, stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes; the staccato flashes
from the passing lights were making them water.
Kay took in a deep breath of fresh air and felt the faint tang of new
leather prick his nostrils. He smiled; possessing such luxurious
fittings as leather seats was one source of delight that hadn't paled
with time. The optional extra that he particularly admired, however,
was the built in route finder. He looked down at the small glowing map
and the bright orange blip of light, which indicated his present
position, and decided to enter his home co-ordinates.
One hand on the wheel Kay bent down to tap in the required numbers,
until a blur of movement, seen out of the corner of his eye,
interrupted the programming; a car was bursting from a side road to cut
in front of him. Over reacting, Kay slammed on his brakes, sending his
head crashing into the steering wheel and the car skidding across the
road, scraping a trail of rubber onto the tarmac as it went.
Dazed, and rubbing the side of his head, Kay got out of the car to
inspect it; there wasn't a scratch on the gleaming paintwork. The only
thing that had been seriously damaged was Kay's frame of mind. It had
been a woman in the other car, Kay had seen her, and he was determined
that she should pay for her actions.

The routefinder screen was blinking at him when Kay returned to his
seat. He turned it off, fastened his seatbelt carefully, and began the
pursuit of his prey.
Two miles after he had set off on his path of retribution Kay drew up
behind his victim and switched his lights onto full beam. Another five
miles and Kay looked in his mirror to smile at the sight of the figure
crawling out of the car in the ditch; revenge, he decided, was
certainly sweet. Unfortunately it was also very tiring, and he was
still a long way from home. The route finder blinked into life as Kay
switched it on and tapped out 'Home' on its keyboard, it blinked once
more and Kay felt the control of the steering wheel being taken away
from him. Leaving the car to its own devices, Kay clambered into the
back seat, pulled a travelling rug over himself, and fell asleep on the
deep leather seat.
Computers are never baffled, they either make a decision straight away
or ask questions to help them reach a solution. If the answers aren't
supplied it simply ignores the question or makes a decision on the
limited information available. Kay's computer had come across two
programmes with the same prime name: it chose the first one.
Kay slept on and the car drove on; he slept through the car stopping
and even through its opening of the automatic garage doors.
The car crept through the slowly closing maw of the garage door and
Kay was totally oblivious to the fact the car, four weeks after its
last departure, had returned to the home he had stolen it from.