Hi, Jack

Well! This was how my story ended.

Falling to my death in a large metal tube.

My life flashed before my eyes.

It wasn’t very long.

It wasn’t very exciting.

I’d done a few things. Not enough to mention.

Now I was falling at 120 mph, and the ground was getting closer every second. Fear paralyzed me as the oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. The lady in the seat next to me had to help me get mine on.

It was too late to pray. It was too late to call my children, my wife, or my parents. There was no chance I’d ever see my family again.

I was not the cool, calm man I normally was.

I cried like a baby.

But before the end, let me tell you how it all started.

I was on board the newest, most high-tech airplane in the sky. It wasn’t the biggest plane, with only about 54 seats, all first-class style. But it was supposed to be the fastest.

We were going from Chicago to Honolulu, a trip that normally takes about 12 and a half hours. We were supposed to make the trip in about 3 hours.

Less if we had clear skies.

Every seat was designed for comfort. There were 12 different massage settings, a button to control the firmness, and built-in noise-canceling speakers. You could listen to the in-flight movie without disturbing the person next to you. If basic movies weren’t your thing, each seat had its own VR goggles for watching movies in 3D or playing games.

To top it off, there was nobody in the cockpit.

No pilot.

No copilot.

The plane was 100 percent automatic.

Even the flight attendants were robotic.

You may be thinking, A self-flying plane! NO WAY.

But why not?

The world we live in is full of computer-controlled things. Self-driving cars are becoming very popular. My house is voice-controlled. All I have to do is say something like, “Computer, what’s the weather today?” or “Computer, preheat the oven to 350 degrees,” or “Computer, microwave a bag of popcorn.”

I can turn on lights, set my alarm, or even make a phone call just by asking a computer to do it.

If I trust a computer to do everything else, why not fly an airplane?

The first thing I did was ask for something to eat. With the press of a button, a robotic servant came to me.

“Hello!” it said in an almost humanlike voice. “How may I be of assistance to you today?”

“I’m a little hungry. What’s on the menu?”

“We have Japanese Wagyu ribeye served with foie gras and white truffle, or Iberico ham, sliced thin and served with roasted tomato and garlic on gold-leaf bread. You have the option of adding a serving of Vietnamese pho with either entrée. We also have a vast wine selection, which should be on your screen now.”

I was impressed.

I’m not what you would call wealthy. I had maybe $850 in the bank, and these were some of the most expensive foods on the planet.

I had been given the ticket so I could write a review for the paper. This was the first flight, after all.

“Hello!” said the beautiful lady sitting next to me. “My name is Rachael. Rachael Hannigan.”

“John. John Beers. But my friends call me Jack.”

There were 12 people on the flight. Rachael, Bob Nelson, and I were the common people on board—the ones with barely a dime to our names. The rest were millionaires, except for the owner of the plane.

He was a billionaire.

“Hi, Jack!” Rachael said.

“Hello, Rachael.”

She spoke as if she thought I was one of the billionaires.

“So,” she said, “what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a reporter for the Chicago Gazette.”

I expected her to turn to the next guy and talk to him, but she continued talking to me.

Bob was speaking to Debra Nash. She was the daughter of the owner of some big oil company. She was cute but seemed like she had the brains of an acorn.

Not my type.

But as dumb as she seemed, she was the one who noticed that all the screens had suddenly turned red.

“Hey! The screen is red now!”

A warning appeared:

DANGER — DANGER — STAY CALM — THE SITUATION IS UNDER CONTROL

“Computer!” I said. “What is the situation?”

“The plane is under attack.”

Just as Rachael stood up to look out the window, restraints shot out and covered her seat.

“Warning! Failure to restrain Rachael Hannigan.”

Then one of the robotic flight attendants grabbed her and took her to an unknown location.

“Computer, why did you detain Rachael?”

“I have evidence that she is the conspirator.”

“What evidence?”

The answer to that question may come as a shock to some of you, but you have to realize that there are certain things you just can’t say while on an airplane.

One of those words is bomb.

No matter what context you use it in, the word bomb can cause quite a panic.

Another word you cannot use is hijack.

“She was heard talking about a hijack.”

“No, you fool!” Bob said. “She didn’t say hijack. She said, ‘Hi—’”

He paused to let it sink in.

“‘—Jack.’ She was saying hello to Jack.”

Suddenly, Bob was taken away too.

“Computer!” I shouted. “What’s going on?”

“Bob Nelson is believed to be a coconspirator.”

“What’s wrong with this stupid plane?” Debra said. “It’s not like we said we’ve got a bomb. They only said—”

“Warning! Detain Debra Nash! She is carrying an explosive device. Analyzing possible targets.”

There went Debra.

About 10 seconds passed.

“Target found! Sending warning to Pearl Harbor.”

Pearl Harbor is one of the most visited places in Hawaii. It was the site of the Japanese attack on the U.S. Pacific Fleet that brought the United States into World War II. Apparently, the computer decided that if there was going to be an attack, Pearl Harbor would be the target.

At this point, we could feel the plane turning.

“Computer, what’s happening?”

“Diverting away from Pearl Harbor.”

“Why?”

“A crash at sea would be preferable to a crash into a populated area.”

“Does anyone know how to fly a plane?”

One man, whose name I never learned, said, “I can, but the cockpit is locked while the plane is on autopilot.”

“Computer, turn off autopilot.”

“Unable to comply. Authorization from Don Rogers is required.”

Don, the owner of the plane, stood up.

“Computer, authorization 4-2-5-W-X-K. Turn off autopilot.”

“Mr. Rogers, your voice sounds as though you are under duress.”

“I am being kidnapped by my own airplane!”

“Mr. Rogers is under duress. Access denied.”

“Okay!” Don said. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone this, but there is another way into the cockpit.”

“Warning! Any attempt to take over the plane will result in self-destruct.”

“Okay!” I said. “We have to remember that it can hear us.”

I stopped.

“Wait! Does the plane really have a self-destruct?”

“I’d rather not say,” Don said. “But we need to move quickly. Does anyone have a portable charger?”

After obtaining a charger, he called the computer and requested a flight attendant. Being a low-priority request, it apparently didn’t trigger any additional security.

While the attendant was coming, Don pulled a device out of his bag. It looked like a credit card with wires sticking out of it. He attached the wires to the charger.

“This is a bit of old tech designed to defeat high tech.”

A robotic attendant approached.

“I am your attendant. How may I help you today?”

“This is Don Rogers,” he said as calmly as possible. “Authorization 4-2-5-W-X-K. I request an R75BYN connection.”

A panel opened on the front of the robot, revealing what looked like a credit card slot.

Don inserted the card.

Immediately, all the robots shut down.

A panel opened on the cockpit door, revealing a number pad.

“The system can still see and hear us, but it can’t attack us now,” Don said. “And I may have access to the autopilot.”

He typed a code into the number pad.

“Welcome back, Don Rogers.”

The cockpit door opened.

Everyone cheered and walked in.

With the press of a few buttons, three things happened.

The first was the announcement:

“Autopilot disengaged.”

That resulted in even more cheers.

The second was that Rachael and Bob were released.

The third wasn’t so cheerful.

“Warning! Don Rogers has switched loyalties. Self-destruct in five minutes.”

“Computer,” Don said, “disengage self-destruct.”

“Cannot comply. Unable to detain Don Rogers. No attendants available.”

Quickly, Don took a dime from his pocket, used it to unscrew a panel, and pulled apart a few wires.

The countdown stopped.

“I can’t believe it was that easy,” I said.

As soon as I spoke, the plane began to drop out of the sky.

And this is where you came in.

I was falling at 120 mph, and the ground was getting closer every second. Fear paralyzed me as the oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. The lady in the seat next to me had to help me get mine on.

It was too late to pray.

It was too late to call my children, my wife, or my parents.

There was no chance I’d ever see my family again.

I was not the cool, calm man I normally was.

I cried like a baby.

Then Rachael jumped up, grabbed the controls, and pulled up just in time.

Well...

We still crashed.

In fact, we crashed at Pearl Harbor.

But we survived.

All of us were taken away and treated for our injuries.

Once everyone was safely away from the plane, we heard something faint coming from inside it.

“Five...

“Four...

“Three...

“Two...

“One...”

BOOM!