Interstellar

THREE

The drone could not, of course, be bothered to follow roads, so neither they could. As fast as the truck would go, they were tearing through a cornfield, flattening the stalks beneath three tires and a wobbling rim.

He tried not to think about how much crop he was destroying, but at least it was his own field. He wouldn't have an angry lynch mob showing up at the house in a few house. And he knew it was justified. The corn was precious, yes, but you didn't one of these things every day.

Or month.

Or... year.

Cooper dated his gaze about frantically, trying to see through the corn, over it, but between high stalks and the roof of the truck there was only a narrow window of visibility.

Across the cab, scrunched against the passenger-side door, Murph had the laptop booted up. Tom was in middle this time, and Coop was doing his own shifting.

"There!" Tom shouted, pointing off to the right. Cooper ducked his head and looked up. And there it was, only meters above the corn.

What the hell is it doing? he thought. What's it searching for? Cooper spun the wheel, fishtailing them toward the thing that looked like a small plane without a cockpit.

Then he recognised the silhouette.

"Indian air force surveillance drone," Cooper said.

"Solar cells could power an entire farm."

He glanced at Tom.

"Take the wheel," he said. After a quick display of mutual contortion, Tom was in the driver's seat and Cooper was in the middle with the laptop. He handed Murph the antenna. 

"Keep it pointer right at it," he told her. Then he went to work on his computer. After a moment the screen began to fill with the flowing, almost liquid lines of the Devanagari script. But success gave way to disappointment - the signal was dropping away.

"Faster, Tom," he said. "I'm losing it."

Tom took the command to heart, flooring the pedal of the old truck. The  signal jumped back, and Cooper kept working at the encryption. The truck burst from the corn and onto open ground.

"Dad?" Tom said.

"Almost got it," he told his son, eyes locked on the screen. "Don't stop."

The drone vanished from view, dropping over the horizon. They must be close to the next valley, Cooper figured, for it able to pull that trick.

"Dad..."  Tom said, his voice sounding more urgent.

Cooper looked up, just in time to see they were barreling toward the sharp drop into the reservoir. His eyes went wide, and his heart dropped into his shoes.

"Tom!" he yelped.

The boy slammed on the brakes. Rocks pinged off the bottom of the truck, and they skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust, dangerously near the drop. Breathing heavily, Cooper stared for a moment, think how it was good they hadn't had four working tires, because they  would have been going even faster...

He looked over at Tom.

His son just shrugged.

"You told me to keep going," he said.

Heart still racing, Cooper reach past his daughter and pushed open the passenger door. Murph hopped out the truck and he followed, laptop in hand.

"Guess the answer the 'if I told you to drive off a cliff' scenario", he muttered, mostly to himself. Then he looked at Murph to make sure she was okay. She still had the antenna pointed hopefully beyond the bluff.

"We lost it," she said.

Her disappointment made the grin Cooper felt tugging at his lips feel all the better.

"No, we didn't," he said, as the drone came soaring back over them. He continued piloting it with the track pad, banking it in a broad arc above. Both kids watched the machine, a marvel from another era, as it dipped and straightened its wings at his command. Tom looked mildly excited. Murph was clearly in awe.

"Want to give it a whirl?" he asked Murph.

He didn't have to ask twice. As he guided her fingers across the pad, her face lit up with amazement and joy. It was wonderful to see, and he wanted to stretch the moment out forever.

But they had things to do.

"Let's set her down next to the reservoir," he said, after a bit.

Spotting a wide, flat spot, Cooper brought down the drone to the ground. Then they drove, slowly and unsteadily, across the rough ground, rocks and gravel scraping against the wheel that sported only tattered fragments of the ruined tire.

The drone was almost as long as the truck, but slim and tubular.

What a beauty, he thought, rubbing his palm across the smooth, dark surface, imagining the clever hands that had built it, feeling almost like a kid again himself. Not that long ago, mankind had made such marvelous, beautiful things.

"How long you think it's been up there?" Tom asked.

"Delhi mission went down same as ours, ten years ago," Cooper answered.

"It's been up there the years?" Tom said, his tone incredulous. "Why'd it come down so low?"

"Sun finally cooked its brain," Cooper speculated. "Or came down looking for something."

"What?" Murph wanted to know.

"Some kind of signal," he replied. He shook his head. "Who knows?"

Cooper explored the surface of the machine until he found the access panel. Other than his own efforts - and the faint, sluggish movement of the river - all was still. A slight breeze mingled the scent of burnt core with aquatic decay. Like everything else, the reservoir had known better days.

He pried open the panel and peered into the box that housed the drone's brain.

"What are you going to do with it?" Murph asked.

"Give it something scientifically responsible to do," Cooper said. "Like drive a combine." He moved to one end and hefted it experimentally. He and Tom would be able to get it into the truck.

"Couldn't we just let it go?" she asked. "It's not hurting anyone."

Cooper glanced down fondly at his daughter. She had a good heart, and generous sensibilities. And part of him ached at the thought of taking this thing that had roamed freely on the winds for more than a decade - maybe the last of its kind, one of the last flying machines ever - and enslaving it to a field of corn. But unlike Murph, he knew that such feelings had to come second to the necessity.

"This thing had to adapt," he explained "Just like the rest of us."

By the time they finally limped up to the school, the sleek drone hanging out of the back of the battered truck, Cooper was fighting down a certain amount of anxiety about the parent-teacher conferences.

"How's this work?" he asked tentatively, "You guys come with?"

"I've got a class," Tom informed him with a hint of superiority. Then he patted Murph on the shoulder. "But she needs to wait."

Murph sent Tom another venom-filled glare as he nimbly exited the vehicle.

"Why?" Cooper asked. "What?" As his son disappeared toward the door, he turned to his daughter.

Murph looked uncomfortable as she scribbled something in her notebook.

"Dad," she began, "I had a... thing. Well, they'll tell you about it. Just try and..."

"Am I gonna be mad?" Cooper demanded, raising his eyebrows.

"Not with me," Murph said. "Just try not to... "

"Relax," he reassured her. "I got this."