Mercenary at heart. Scott Melani
“There's no need for that. We'll manage on our own. And remember, this is just the beginning of your journey. It's only going to get more interesting from here. All right, let's go get some rest. We have a long road ahead of us tomorrow.”
He put his arm around Mariana's waist. His parents went slowly into the house, talking about the day ahead, and Michael stayed near the car for a while, imagining in his head how he would drive it very soon.
“Six-speed manual transmission, all-wheel drive, interactive dashboard, top speed can reach 360 km/h. It's a beast of a car! I can't even believe that tomorrow I will drive it!” – Michael thought to himself, stroking the car on the roof. He spent about thirty minutes near the car, looking at it from all sides, and then went to his room to rest. His head was full of thoughts about the day ahead.
The first field practice
The morning began with an alarm clock. He had to wake up early, because the car had to be delivered only up to a certain time, and it took about six, seven hours to get there. Even taking into account the capabilities of the car, George was an advocate of quiet driving and preferred to perform delivery to the destination extremely carefully, without leaving any visible damage on the object. Therefore, Michael did not have to count on high speed. On the highway – a maximum of 120 km / h, on the highway – 90, within the city – 50. Mariana fed the family with scrambled eggs and bacon and gave them some sandwiches for the road, putting them in plastic containers.
George: “Don't forget to bring your learner's card with you so the police won't have any unnecessary questions: why are you at 14 already driving a car?”
The point is that depending on the chosen direction, the child was granted certain privileges related to education. For example, Michael studied at a transportation school, so he had the right to drive cars and some trucks under the supervision of an adult from the age of 14. But this was possible only if he had a student card, confirming that he was a student of a specialized school. Others had to wait until they were 18 years old to complete a six-month course in driving a passenger car.
– I already did. – Michael answered, waving his small black square wallet. All three of them went outside. Mariana wished them a good trip and stayed on the doorstep, waving goodbye every now and then. Michael joyfully headed for the driver's door of the car.
– Sit in the passenger seat. First I'll take control of the car, to see what this little girl is capable of. We'll switch on the road, don't worry. – George stopped him, slightly holding his son's hand. Michael wasn't upset. He was happy just to sit in the cabin of such a car. George started the car and drove off in the desired direction.
Michael took out of his bag a small rectangular device that displayed a map and route. It had a small number of buttons on the end and on the sides. The boy knew how to use this device, since he had already been trained on it. The device was called “Logist” and was one of the key tools for drivers. In addition to the navigator function, which was lined up with the Logistician, which tracked in real time the movement of the target, the device acted as an “SOS” depending on the command, sending a distress signal along with the current location to the nearest workshops, ambulance or police patrols.
George had an earpiece with a built-in microphone attached to his ear, connected wirelessly to both the Logiste and the phone. The driver could use it to talk to customers and his staff. Occasionally, Mariana would call the same way, to see how her husband was doing at work. The route was routed through several villages and towns with bronze and silver status. The terminus was New Hampshire. It was a platinum status town. Michael had never been to towns with status higher than silver, so this was quite the journey for him. Not only would he get to see new small towns, but he would also get to visit a giant metropolis.
Villages and towns were connected by roads with nothing living around them. Either desert or impassable thickets of bushes and trees. The reason for this was clear – ownerless territory that no one had ever taken care of. According to such rules, the borders of settlements were divided, leaving neutral, ownerless territories between them. It was in these ownerless areas that the outcasts, unwanted and despised by society, existed. Some of them banded together to try to survive, occasionally raiding passing traffic or attempting to storm towns. True, they usually didn't pose much of a threat. After all, before they were driven out of town, all their possessions were taken from them. So they didn't have any weapons. The most they could attack with was fists, stones, or sticks they had gotten on the road. And considering the fact that cargo and transportation were most often guarded by well-armed mercenaries or private guards, the outcasts had no chance of success. It was more like certain death.
George drove up to the checkpoint at the exit from Ounvilshen and joined the smallest queue. Since no documents had to be stamped, but only personal cards scanned by a special bar code, the line moved quickly enough. Only heavy trucks were subjected to special inspection for the presence of prohibited goods on board, but a separate lane was allocated for them so as not to impede the movement of other traffic.
Finally it was Michael and George's turn. They stopped in front of the inspector's window. It was on the right side of the car. In front of the checkpoint was a barrier and a license plate scanner built into it, which recorded the license plate number, and a computer program extracted all the other data on the car and its owner. In the booth sat a city policeman with a laptop computer at his desk. He was dressed in a long-sleeved service uniform in the color of the city's yellow and purple flag. Underneath his police uniform was a bulletproof vest in the form of thermal underwear. Such body armor was very lightweight and was considered the most common protection for city police officers because it covered most of the body.
Policeman: “Where are you going?”
George: “Making a delivery to a customer.”
Policeman: “What kind of goods?”
George: “It's an auto.”
The policeman looked out of the window and looked at the car, formally inspecting the car.
Policeman: “Your papers.”
Michael held out his personal cards to him. The police officer scanned them, then handed them back to the boy.
Policeman: “You can go now.”
George: “Thank you officer, have a good day.”
The barrier turned green and went up. The path was open and the car moved on, following the designated route. After a while, having traveled about 150 km, the transporters stopped in a large village at the gas station through which their route passed. Both got out of the car while the gas station attendant filled the tank with fuel.
– Well, are you ready? – George put his hand on Michael's shoulder.
Michael: “Sure!”
George: “Then get behind the wheel. You drive from here. Just don't drive too fast! You know my rules.”
Michael nodded, then opened the door and got into the driver's seat. George settled into the front passenger seat and leaned back, taking the Logiste in his hands.
George: “All right, let's go, no need to linger at the transfer points. We're wasting time. After the parking lot, turn immediately to the right. Gerri has changed the route as there will be a traffic jam ahead. Probably some kind of accident.”
Michael adjusted the seat, started the car, shifted gears, and they headed in a new direction.
George: “It's a dirt road that runs parallel to the main highway. According to the map, we should get onto the main highway just after the jam.”
The quality of the road was terrible. It was strewn with small stones and shallow potholes. The weather was sunny and dry, which made it easy to navigate due to good visibility and no impassable mud. On the right side of the road was a vast desert without a single plant, and on the left side of the road could be seen the nearest residential buildings belonging to the village from which the carriers had left. Rain was a luxury for this region. Michael moved slowly, afraid of damaging the wheels and suspension of the car. The bypass was only eight kilometers long, and it was rarely used, so there was not much time to wait. Given the poor quality of the roadway, the