Please Verify

Sana skidded to a stop just before she crashed into her own car, pressing her thumb to the handle and begging it to recognise the print. The little blue light blinked slowly, processing.

She wished she could just tear the bloody thing open and get in, but that was a luxury she couldn't afford. Her trusty Lancer was made sometime in the 90s, probably before she even learnt how to walk, so it wasn't equipped with the newest technology.

Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the sound of rapid footsteps. Her heart hammered in her chest as she pressed her thumb down harder. This seemed to do the trick, because the blue light flickered green and the door opened. She slid inside, grateful to be out of the cold, and pressed the 'start' button.

"Your driver authentication has expired. Please verify you are human," the Lancer's lady-voice said.

When she bought the car, it had been set to sound like a gruff man. That being the last thing she wanted to hear every time it spoke, she forked out a hefty sum of her pay check to purchase a female voice mod. Unfortunately, today that voice was the last thing she wanted to hear.

Sana searched the display for a 'later' button, but she couldn't see it anywhere.

"Verify later," she said, a little sharp for her own liking, but a glance in the rear-view mirror told her they were getting too close for comfort. She would be more than happy to verify her humanity at home, but now was just really not an ideal time.

"You can use the Lancer app on your phone to authenticate yourself faster. Have you tried that?" came the reply.

She almost hit the steering wheel, but stopped herself in time. Last time she did that, the car went into lockdown for 24 hours.

"I saw her come this way!" she heard someone yell outside.

Sana ducked down, keeping herself out of the window. She pressed the 'off' button on the display.

"Sorry, you need to complete the authentication process before you can use the display. Did you know, for a faster experience, you can use the Lancer app on your phone."

Sana was not proud to say this, but she hissed out an expletive. She needed the car to power down. The lights would attract attention, and the voice would make the Rangers aware someone was in the car. Perhaps if she remained silent for long enough, the car would go to sleep?

So she waited, keeping her breathing steady just as she had practiced.

"Do you need help with your verification? You can connect with one of our helpful online agents through the Lancer app," the peppy voice told her.

"I heard something!" a guy shouted outside.

This was clearly not working.

Maybe if she got out, she could run back into town? She could duck between the parked cars, and it was dark enough that the Rangers would probably take a minute to spot her. But what would be worse — being caught in the car? Or being tackled down in front of everyone in the middle of the street?

"For a seamless experience, just upload your identification card to the Lancer app. Instant authentication is guaranteed for a price of only $300!" the Lancer said.

That was it, she couldn't stay here. She risked raising her head to check her mirrors. Once she was certain the Rangers weren't too close for her to run, she tried to open the door.

"Sorry, you need to complete the authentication process before you can use the door. Did you know, for a faster experience, you can use the Lancer app on your phone."

Sana's stomach churned. She couldn't tell whether it was the smell of the bread wrapped in her coat or the anxiety brewing inside her that was the cause. Probably the anxiety. She was trapped, after all.

"I see lights!" one of the Rangers called out to the others.

Seeing no alternative, she pulled out her phone from where she was crouched down between her seat and steering wheel. Flicking to the Lancer app, she waited for it to load.

Estimated loading time... 15 seconds

That wasn't too bad, she thought gratefully. The app flashed up onto the screen, giving her an option to connect to the car. Sana pressed it immediately.

"To start the verification process, please watch a few videos from our sponsors," the car said.

Ads? Sana wanted to scream. She knew that newer cars had systems where you had to either pay or watch ads before you could unlock your car, or before you could turn it on. But surely an old one wouldn't had in-built ads?

She tried to remember the first time she went through the authentication process five years ago. Back then, she had paid the second hand dealer do it for her, so she wasn't even present.

A stupid video of a woman at a beach with a cocktail started to play. She tried to lower the volume from the interactive display, but it still wasn't letting her interact.

To her horror, as she aggressively tapped the screen, someone shone a light into the car.

"I found her!" the man said.

"Ma'am, please step out of the car with your hands raised," he said.

She couldn't even see him because the bloody flashlight was blinding her. Still, Sana knew better than to say anything. She lifted her hands in the air, the ad still playing behind her.

"Ma'am step out of the vehicle," the man ordered.

Sana's hands were shaking. She reached for the handle. The ad paused.

"Please complete the authentication process before attempting to use the doors."

Though she couldn't see the faceless man outside her window, she could sense his irritation.

"Ma'am I am giving you one final chance to comply with my instructions. Step out of the car with your hands raised."

"I'm sorry!" she squinted up at the white light. "I can't open the door!"

Surely the Rangers could hear her? If they could hear the car speak, they would know exactly what was going on. But she didn't for one second believe they would care.

Sana pictured herself as a story on the news.

'Illegal alien steals from locals, resists arrest.'

Tears pricked her eyes. Her stomach growled. The smell of the fresh bread overtook her nose.

The ad stopped. Another one started. She wasn't looking at the screen, but she could hear someone talking about sending their kids to some private school, telling her how it would do wonders for their education.

"Ma'am if you do not comply-"

"I'm sorry!" she called out again. "It won't let me open the door!"

Just then, another light flooded in through the passenger side window. Another Ranger.

"You reckon she's an illegal?" the guy said.

"Ma'am, can you please open your purse in front of us. Keep your hands visible at all times. Take out your ID," the first Ranger instructed her.

With trembling hands, Sana reached across to the passenger seat, where her jacket was wrapped around the bread. Her wallet was in its pocket.

There was a horrible bang, and she heard herself let out a piercing shriek.

Blood spilled onto the car seat.

Sana stared at the hole in her hand.

All the while the ad continued, telling her to enrol her children now for only $5,000 a month.

"She looked like she was reaching for a weapon," the second Ranger said.

The first guy remained silent.

Sana watched the blood ooze out in time with her pulse. She felt her heart beat in her chest. Nothing felt real anymore. Not her, not the car, not the Rangers, and certainly not the ads. All that felt real was the rhythm of her heartbeat. The unverified heartbeat of an illegal alien.

The next day, the news showed a story.

Illegal alien thief attempts to shoot at law enforcement.