Beep beep, after two soft sounds, the flying car veered off the main magnetic metal lane and found a spot in the roadside parking area to stop.
Boswell no longer doubted the authenticity of the artificial intelligence before him. During this maneuver, neither Fatty nor himself said a word; it was all done by that spherical robot pretending to be the car mascot, with its butt sticking up on the dashboard.
No matter how high the level of humanoid simulation, or how seamless the humanized programming, a robot could never automatically take over control of a flying car without human intervention.
"I just don't understand..." Fatty reached out to open the car door. "It's been a long time since I've been home, and soon I'll have to leave again. They won't even let me stroll around the streets. What kind of world is this? Is there no human rights left?"
