Singed Synapses and Deranged Dendrites

Summoned (#spectacle)

The spectacle of a successful and handsome middle-age man crying in his office always made Byron Johnston uncomfortable. Being in the business of personal protection Byron knew what to do when young beautiful women wept in his office. He offered his sympathies, his promise to protect them day and night and if he was lucky, his bed.

"It's scary to fear for your life," said Byron in a monotone. The millionaire named Guy who sat before him, had biceps large enough to fend for themselves. Guy's red eyes and dripping nose did not inspire warmth in Byron's voice. 

Pushing a box of tissues across the desk robotically, Byron watched as his new client tried to pull it together. Guy was having trouble spitting out exactly what was wrong. 

"So you know you are being followed by someone who already robbed you once?" asked Byron.

"Yes," said the client. "He stole my car."

"And what kind of car was it?" asked Byron.

"A high-end Tesla," sniffed Guy.

"And have you seen the person who you say stole your car and is now following you?" asked Byron.

Guy rubbed his hand through his thick salt and pepper hair and scratched at a three-day-old beard on his chiseled  jaw. 

"No he," replied. "But every time I come out of a hotel or a restaurant there he is, pulling up alongside me. If I try to run down the block he chases me. If I get into a cab he follows me. My only escape is to catch a flight and even if I do a few days later there he is."

"Driving your car?" asked Byron. Guy nodded.

Byron leaned on his elbows, fingers creating a steeple, the ends of which he tapped together in contemplation.

"So tell me, Guy, where did he steal the car from?"

"I had parked it at a friend's house to catch a flight across the country to Nashville. The next morning my friend called me and said the car had been stolen. I made a report. I figured Seattle has its fair share of crime and I'd probably never see the car again." Guy's lip began to tremble. "Three days later the person who had stolen the car started trailing me in Nashville."

"May I see your Tesla phone app?" inquired Byron. Being a middle-age man himself he hated how every device required an app. He hadn't even had a computer until after he finished high school and now every toddler seemed to be able to access the internet.

Byron looked at Guy's phone for a few minutes. Then he walked over to the window. 

"It looks like your assailant is here," said Byron nodding to the sleek black Tesla parked at the curb outside his office. "Let's go down and have a chat with him shall we?"

Guy refused to leave the building but Byron went downstairs. He walked up to the car, opened the door and looked inside. Then he waved at a shaking Guy who was peering out from behind the window curtains of Byron's office.

"Come on down Guy," yelled Byron. "I think your problem is that the full capacity of your Smart Summon was activated. There is no one driving your car. It was simply following you on its own."