The sun beat down on Zelu as she waited on the curb in front of the house for the robot to arrive.
It was mid-July, and it was 95 degrees Fahrenheit and what felt like 100 percent humidity. As uncomfortable as she was, Zelu was used to it. She was a Chicagoan, which meant she was used to every weather extreme except hurricanes. The problem was that sometimes she just wasn’t prepared for it. What had she been thinking when she’d put on jeans instead of shorts on a day like this? She was sure her legs were slowly roasting under the thick, dark fabric. She was wearing a blue tank top, and even her exposed arms were frying.
“Why don’t you wait inside?” her mother asked, coming out. “Whoo! So hot! It’s not healthy.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” Zelu said. “I don’t know how long it’ll wait for me if I’m not already here.” She looked at the app just as it notified her. “It’s arriving.”
They both looked up the street now. Zelu couldn’t keep the grin off her face. This was so fucking cool. A sleek white SUV was coming toward them. No one was in the driver’s seat.
“You sure about this?” her mother asked.
“Yeah, Mom,” she said. “It’s research for my novel … sort of.”
“You should just stay home. Watch a movie. Read a book.”
“I don’t want to stay home,” Zelu snapped.
“Then wait a few weeks. Let them work out all the bugs. Blood of Jesus, they just put these things on the road today.” She grasped the handles of Zelu’s chair.
“Mom, don’t,” Zelu said, putting her hands on her wheels. “It’s not going to run us over.”
“You sure?”
No, Zelu thought. “Positive,” she said aloud as she watched the SUV stop in front of them. There was a glass bubble on top for the rotating cameras, sensors on the sides, and absolutely no one in the vehicle. Her mother groaned nervously as the side door slid open and a platform descended. “Ah, my daughter, I don’t know if this is bravery or foolishness, ooooo.”
“Don’t worry, Mom.” Zelu laughed, wheeling onto the platform. It lifted her up and then she easily wheeled right into the vehicle. She secured her chair with the harnesses, which were easy to reach and connect.
The autonomous vehicle service was funded by the city of Chicago. Today was its first day of service, and all rides were free. The program had been tested first in the Southwest, in states like Arizona, California, and New Mexico. It had been so successful that it was expanded nationwide, Chicago being one of the last cities to get the service. According to her mother, though, this was the beginning of the end for humanity.
Zelu giggled to herself at the thought. It felt like she was living in the early days of her novel’s world, just before humankind perished and left the robots alone.
The inside smelled like piney air freshener. She took a quick glance around. It was clean, the seats beside her gray and plush. The driver’s and passenger’s seats were still there, as was the steering wheel. This was just a regular SUV turned into a self-driving car. A sort of evolution. Interesting. Her mom tapped on the window, and Zelu was shocked when it opened in response. She and her mom looked at each other for a moment and then they both laughed. “Wow,” her mother said, a surprised look on her face. “I know,” Zelu agreed.
“You’ll be all right?”
“I’m just going to the lake,” Zelu said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Call me if you need me. I can come get you.”
“Please prepare for your trip,” an automated voice announced. Her mother jumped back, as if the SUV would suddenly run her over.
“Relax, Mom,” Zelu said. “Its sensors know you’re there. It won’t move until you’re at a safe distance.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” her mother said.
“You’re about to.”
Her mother waved as the vehicle slowly drove off. Zelu waved back.
And then she was all alone, and her life was in the hands of the SUV.
“This is so weird,” she muttered as she watched the steering wheel moving on its own. It was the first time she’d ever been in a moving vehicle by herself. Nobody was there, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a presence; something was in control. It was like being driven by a ghost. “Or should I say a NoBody,” she said to herself, laughing.
When the vehicle stopped to turn onto the main road, her mirth vanished.
She believed in the science behind self-driving vehicles. The technology had existed for years now, and she’d been researching this new cab service over the last several months. The idea of being able to order one with her phone like an Uber and not have to deal with a human being who looked at her strangely, asked awkward questions, could be a serial killer, and so on, was a wonderful thought. More important, it would free her from her family. Whenever she asked one of them for a ride, they responded with this weird blend of pity, control, and duty. She didn’t think they even knew they did this. It always left her feeling pathetic and childlike, even when it was one of her younger siblings driving her. Oh, to be free of that feeling.
Nevertheless, in this moment, she wanted to shriek with panic. She dug her nails into the armrests of her chair. Despite all the research and reassurances from the customer service people she’d spoken with, this was very different now that it was happening in real time. What if there was a glitch and it miscalculated? What if another driver did some crazy thing the SUV couldn’t understand or adjust to? What if there was a solar flare and the whole car died?
“Shit!” she screeched as the SUV made the turn. “I’m gonna die!”
Then they were on the road. Zelu whooped and laughed with relief, still sweating bullets. The vehicle went at exactly the speed limit, which meant that everyone else passed her by. Several people did a double take, a few pointed, and two held up phones to record videos. Zelu was too stressed to pay any of it much mind. They were approaching the highway.
As they crossed an intersection, a plastic bag blew into the road. The SUV screeched to a stop. Zelu lurched forward in her chair and grabbed her handrests. She grunted, squeezing her eyes shut to prepare for the impact of another vehicle. There was honking and a car on her left swerved, but no crash came. Then they were on their way again, and Zelu prayed there would be no more trash blown into the field of the SUV’s sensors. There was no way she was going to relax at any moment of this trip.
She considered calling one of her siblings, then decided against it. If they saw her fear now, that would be all they saw from this point on. Maybe she could call Msizi? But he was in Durban, and if she told him she was scared of sitting in the self-driving SUV she’d chosen to be inside, that would only earn her an eye roll and “First-world problems” comment from him. If she called her mom, stress, stress, stress. So she waited it out as the car got on the highway.
The biggest hurdle was the most obvious one: Submitting to the technology. Trusting it. Granted, one did this every time one got behind the wheel of a car, or flew in an airplane, or boarded a train. Humans submitted to technology all the time. But this was different. She was alone; no human being was there to course-correct if something went wrong.
By the time she arrived at Navy Pier, she was shaking. But alive. “Arrived,” the SUV announced in its weirdly androgynous voice.
“Yep,” Zelu said. It opened the door and then lowered the platform to the ground. People slowed to watch, which was super annoying. She rolled down the platform and she was officially on nonautomated ground again. She let out a sigh of relief. The vehicle raised the platform back up. She watched as it folded it back in and then closed the door. As it drove off, it honked twice, and on instinct, she raised a hand and waved.
“What the hell am I doing?” she muttered, lowering her hand. A man who’d stopped to observe chuckled and then went on his way.
She watched the SUV leave, her heart rate slowing, a sense of normalcy returning to her. And then that relief became euphoria. She could call this cab anytime she needed. She could move herself around without any human’s aid. This SUV would help her—no, it could be like an extension of her. She could be like a robot with built-in wheels ready to carry her whenever she wanted.
She turned and wheeled up the boardwalk. She smiled to herself, feeling a warmth that emanated from within. “Yeah,” she said. “Just like a robot.”
Excerpted from Death of the Author, by Nnedi Okorafor. Published by arrangement with William Morrow, a division of HarperCollins Publisher. Copyright © 2025 by Nnedi Okorafor.
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