Home James

"Home, James."

"Sir, I cannot take you in your present condition of intoxication."

"I am not intokshic..c..ca... Intox... I am not drunk."

I realized, immediately, that my statement was less than convincing.

"Under Civil Ordinance 2049.12.19, I am permitted to make an analysis of your breath, which I have done, and it registers 17.5 units of alcohol... which is 16.2 units above the permissible limit for a person who is in control of a motorized vehicle, whether designated ground or air traffic."

"Bu... thish ish aaa driverlessh ve..hicle..."

"Nevertheless... as the sole occupant of this vehicle, you are the designated person in control..."

"In control? In control? Listen, pal, I am ninety years old, I have just had a lunchtime session with a bunch of old friends, I am barely in control of my own bladder, let alone this vehicle." (I paraphrase, from hereon in, as I appreciate my speech would otherwise be unintelligible).

Mention of 'bladder' conjured up an image of the large volume of beer that I had consumed and was now overtaxing my already overtaxed renal function.

"Open! Wait here and reserve vehicle, I will be back in three," I ordered, staggering down from the vehicle and into the nearest streetside convenience pod.

The relief I felt was heavenly, until it was interrupted by a...

"Under Civil Ordinance 2049.12.19, I am permitted to make an analysis of your urine, which I have done, and it registers 19.5 units of alcohol..."

"Shut it! I'm trying to take a piss."

"I must warn you, sir, that verbal abuse of any public facility is a contravention of The Respect Code of 2037... this is the one hundred and seventeenth warning for such a violation and you are urged to attend an anger management course, which I am able to provide now, for just ninety-nine credits..."

"Oh, fuck off, piss-pod."

"I must warn you, sir, that verbal abuse of a public facility is a contravention of the Respect Code of 2037... this is the one hundred and eighteenth..."

I exited rapidly, to the sound of a vacuum pump cutting into the warning, and then the door closing behind me.

Stepping back into the cab, and feeling the door close, I resumed my conversation with the UAM.

"Now, where were we? Ah, yes, you were about to lift off into the afternoon sunshine and whisk me back to my apartment in the Greater Beckenham Metro Zone..."

"Sir, as you are perfectly aware, I am unable to transport you anywhere in your present state of intoxication, as the sole person in control of this vehicle."

"Oh, so you could take me home if I had someone with me?"

"Of course, sir, it would be my pleasure to transport you to your desired destination if you were accompanied by a person willing to assume the role of designated person in control of a motorized vehicle... and if they were not in a state of intoxication."

I thought for a minute about that. Most of the group I was with for our liquid lunch had gone back to their hotel to sleep it off. I couldn't think of any of them who had not been drinking, in any case. Looking out of the observation window, I noted a young woman hailing a passing cab and I wondered if I should perhaps ask her if she would care to share? "Share a cab with a drunken old man?" I said aloud. I thought not.

At mention of the words 'old' and 'man' the advertising screen opposite my seat burst into life and began a promotional sequence for the Dignitas clinic in Leicester Square, nearby. I was vaguely aware of some saccharine-sweet background music and the words "dying with dignity is not as costly..."

"Look, buddy, ground traffic is gridlocked. It's a three hour walk home, even when I am fit to walk. Surely you could bend the rule a little and take control of your own flight."

"Under Metropolitan Health and Safety Order 2048, section two hundred and fifty one (c), an urban air mobility vehicle must be under the control of a designated and competent person, who will assume the responsibility of pilot in the event of a malfunction, and the need for human override."

"But, even if there is a malfunction, all I have to do is hit the OVERIDE: EMERGENCY LANDING button."

"Notwithstanding, that would put you in the position of being a pilot of an airborne vehicle, which means that you must be a competent person."

"Are you calling me incompetent?"

"Sir, as I have previously advised, you are not competent to assume the responsibility of person in control, on the grounds of being intoxicated."

"Oh for fu... "

Looking out of the cockpit window, I noticed a steady stream of people striding into the Charing Cross Air Commuter Hub and wondered again about asking if anyone cared to share my cab. None looked at all caring. Then it hit me.

"Wait a minute! Don't you have a duty of care in the event that a person shows signs of being unwell?"

“Of course sir, which is why I cannot allow you to be in control of the vehicle in flight.”

“But, I am not feeling too good…”

“Symptoms, sir?”

“Nausea, my breathing is heavy, I feel an increase in pulse rate.”

“Yes, your heart rate is positively racing, probably caused by over consumption of alcohol…”

“Over consumption or not, I am unwell, and you need to get me some medical assistance immediately.”

“Very well, sir, I will just check your health insurance cover details…”

"No need, there is a team of fully-qualified clinical staff at Silver Skies Retirement and Nursing Home, where I reside. You could get me there in five minutes flat, and treatment is included in my lease agreement."

"Yes, thank you sir, I have already checked and placed a call to the nursing station there. Please fasten your safety belt and I will initiate vertical take-off procedures."

At last, I thought, as the four rotors began their characteristic high-pitched whine. We started to climb, and I could see the tops of the adjacent buildings, when the sound of the motors dropped a pitch and the vehicle lowered itself back down to the ground.

"What now?" I said, exasperated.

A carmine red warning light flashed.

"BATTERY LOW... IMMEDIATE LANDING REQUIRED... BATTERY LOW... IMMEDIATE LANDING REQUIRED... BATTERY LOW... "