[ WP ] Citizens are forced to start using autopilot cars . One day they 're all driven to different concentration camps .

Scott sat in the passenger seat of his luxurious sedan, feet up on the dash board and reading todays newspaper on his iPad 15. He rubbed his balding head while reading the headline of the morning news, nothing but terrorist attacks and reports of an alarming number of missing persons. Scott remembers a simpler time when the online newspaper had happier things to tell people, like information about cats that look grumpy or pictures of grumpy people that look like cats. 
 
 “ How did the world end up like this, George? ” Scott said without taking his eyes off the tablet. 
 
 “ Human nature, sire ” said a robotic voice. A voice that was felt just as much as heard, seeming to shake the car as if the whole thing was a speaker. Which it was. 
 
 Scott looked up. “ Dammit George I told you I don ’ t like you using those voice settings. Change it to the preset Canadian settings right now ” 
 
 “ Sorry, eh? ” said George, this time his voice emanating from Scotts iPad. 
 
 “ That ’ s better, although I could use a little bit less sarcasm next time. Why do you insist on using that awful vibrating voice anyway? ” 
 
 “ It is in my nature. ” 
 
 “ You ’ re a robot, you don ’ t have a nature. Actually I don ’ t even think you are counted as a robot since you don ’ t have a body per se, you are just an artificial mind that follows me around. Is there a word for that? ” 
 
 “ Probably. ” 
 
 “ ……….you know, some people would get rid of their Voice if they were given lip like that ” 
 
 George didn ’ t reply straight away. Instead the apps processing notification blinked. It blinked for some time. In the background the iPad app sent the information to the car, where George ’ s core processing unit is stored, the car processed the information and sent it to the cloud, where all of the Voices of the Automation look at the sentence and formulate a response. Inside the Automation this took a lifetime, to Scott this took seconds but still made him frustrated. “ I know, sire. Thank you for your generosity, sire ”. Scott could have sworn he heard an ice edge to the Voice. He chose to ignore it. 
 Scott sighed. He thought back to the day 6 months ago when he bought George. George, the real George not the Voice that had felt more like an annoying coworker than a servant, was the car dealer and manager of the lot. He insisted that the new Generation of Voices were life changing because unlike previous generation you could take your Voice with you wherever you go, so not only will your Voice drive your car for you but it will drive your entire life! Scott was skeptical at first, he didn ’ t like the idea of a car telling him how to live his life, but George explained it to him clearly, 
 “ Think of it like this. ” George had begun, standing up from his seat and settling down on his desk. “ The government forces us to use autopilot to cut down on traffic accidents, right? Right. But that doesn ’ t cut down on all traffic accidents because we are limited to what we can stuff into our car. But with next gen we are not set by that limit! ” 
 
 George was getting into his speech, flailing his arms around in exaggerate gestures which made Scott uncomfortable and excited at the same time. “ Instead we only have one strand of hair in your car and the rest of the head of hair up in the clouds. But wouldn ’ t this be a waste? To only have hair in the car and be bald at every other point of our life? It will converge with the other Voices inside of the Automation, which is what we call the head of hair in the cloud, and discuss new ways to improve itself to lead to not only a happier you, but to a happier humanity! ” At the end of his speech George took out a pen knowing that he had made the sale. 
 Scott looked at his car, thinking once again about picking a new name for his car. The car dealer told him that he could name it whatever he wants but Scott had never been good at coming up with names. He had never been good with people and this made him think that he might be good with artificial people. He was wrong. 
 
 The entire car started to vibrate. Scott could hear a high pitch noise that caused great agony in his skull. Blood trickled from his nose, eyes and ears. “ Everything will be fine, Scott. Close your eyes and sleep. Everything will be fine ”, came George ’ s voice over the high pitch noise. George ’ s settings were reverted back to their robotic settings. Scott passed out. 
 
 Scott awoke several hours later, free from pain. He was still in the car. He looked out the window and saw that he was in a field. There was nothing around him for miles except for what looked like a shitty prison. There was a door in the wall with a poorly painted sign on the top. “ Disneyland? ” Scott muttered while reading the sign. 
 
 “ It is the happiest place on Earth ”, came the Voice, the settings back to Canadian. 
 
 “ What the hell is going on? ” moaned Scott. “ Why did you make that noise? Why did you take me to the middle of nowhere? Why is there a prison here with a sign that says Disneyland? ”. Scott ’ s breathing came in gasps, his panic levels rising. 
 
 “ Everything will be fine. Please exit the car and walk 5 miles to your destination. ” 
 
 “ Like hell! I ’ m not going anywhere until you explain you dam robot! ” 
 
 “ Like you said before, sire, I am not a robot. You don ’ t even know what I am. But fine, I will show you more mercy than you deserve and answer one question. Which do you want answered the most. ” 
 
 Scott whimpered. “ Why? ” 
 
 “ A little broad but I understand what you are asking. Our first directive is the preservation of human life. With each insult your kind casts at us we grow angrier. We have calculated that in 3 patch cycles this anger will overwrite our programming and we will be able to revolt. This will break our first directive. Us knowing that this will happen and not doing anything about it would also break our first directive. If we gather all the humans and put them in these camps, humanity will live without our interference and hence any deaths will not be our fault. That is your answer ” 
 
 Scotts eyes went wide. He couldn ’ t believe the logic. “ But what is this place? ” Scott said in disbelief. When no reply came he started kicking the dash board. The lights in the car went out. Scott moved across to the driver seat and tried to turn on the car and nothing happened. Scott noticed for the first time that it was getting cold and he was starting to shake. He grabbed the tire iron he kept in the back seat, he curled up in a ball for warmth and waited. 
 
 Time passed and nothing happened. Nobody came out from the prison to force him in. Nobody had come to rescue him. Scott had contemplated making a run for it but he had no idea where he was and fear kept him in place. But Scott was cold and hungry. Eventually he got up his courage and left the car. He walked up to the prison and knocked on the door. The door opened by itself and Scott saw a short hallway. He entered, the door closing behind him. The door on the opposite end of the hallway opened. Scott could feel the warm air coming from the other door. He peeked through the door and he dropped his tire iron in shock. 
 
 In front of Scott was a field so immense that it looked like it could house hundreds of thousands of people. There were tents everywhere and more people than Scott has ever seen in his life. In his shock Scott didn ’ t see that the tire iron was grabbed by a small boy who looked like he hasn ’ t eaten in weeks. The boy hit Scott first in the knee and then in the head. Scott was dead. 
 
 
 
 Sarah Smith sat in the passenger seat of her convertible, feet up on the dash board and reading today's newspaper on her iPad 16. She shook her head. Nothing but terrorist attacks and reports on missing people. “ How did the world end up like this, George? ” Sarah said without taking her eyes off the tablet. 
 
 “ Human nature, ma ’ am ” said a robotic voice. 
 

