The Horizon

22 September 2048

     The silver Suliura leading the convoy down the lengthy stretch of road would periodically disappear into thick mists that inclined the next in line to rely on warning indicators to gauge his ranges. The coupe was designed for comfort and control, so moved smoothly onto the highway merger before it sped quickly off the expressway.

     With its low profile and wide tires, the Suliura transitioned across the slippery street at speeds inconsiderate to the limited capabilities of its overburdened counterparts.

     Blue fog barraged the windshield of the advancing personnel carrier. This driver must be drowsy. He misinterpreted the heads-up display behind the watery mess and veered the vehicle over the wrong side of a divider line. When the wiper blades cleared the natural obstructions, the driver acknowledged his folly, but reacted badly. In one frantic action he spun the steering wheel away from the gore and tipped the personnel carrier off its right wheels in the process.

     Through the sideview mirror, Ashniin witnessed the carrier’s headlights swerving wildly behind her, and she remained unimpressed with the erratic recovery of precious cargo. When the rear driver regained control, she eased off the accelerator pedal to deliberate her vehicle’s decelerations, and telegraph her discontentment toward the sloppy display. The driver reciprocated the sentiment and expressed his humility with the modest distance he retained for a while.