The Hitchhiker Who Accidentally Redirected Traffic

FIELD TRANSMISSION // NEBULA ROUTE 18 // PICO-9 TRANSIT MOON
People. Planets. Poor Decisions.
REX RATTLE:
“Good evening, good morning, and welcome back to the only program legally permitted to use the phrase planetary traffic incident without providing context.”
Rex turns toward a monitor showing hundreds of vehicles moving in the same direction.
“Tonight, authorities on Pico-9 would like to know why every automated vehicle on the moon has apparently joined a parade.”
Cut to Jetta Spark, riding in the passenger seat of a battered courier craft.
Behind her, through the rear window, dozens of hover taxis, cargo trucks, maintenance carts and one confused street sweeper are following at full speed.
JETTA:
“Rex, I have an answer.”
She points toward the back seat.
A tiny round alien is sitting happily beside the courier’s robot companion.
Its ears glow bright turquoise.
JETTA:
“The answer is approximately fourteen inches tall.”
REX:
“Can we arrest it?”
JETTA:
“It doesn't appear to have pockets.”
It Began as a Ride
Courier Vela Marr had been making a routine crossing through the Nebula Route when she stopped at Pico-9 for fuel.
That was mistake number one.
Mistake number two was leaving the passenger hatch open.
When Vela returned, something small had climbed aboard.
It was fuzzy.
Round.
Mostly ears.
And sitting in the navigation chair like it had booked the seat weeks ago.
Vela’s robot scanned it.
SPECIES: UNKNOWN.
It scanned again.
THREAT LEVEL: ADORABLE.
Vela stared at the creature.
The creature stared back.
Then it buckled its own seat belt.
VELA:
“I wasn't taking passengers.”
The creature chirped.
The robot displayed:
HE HAS A POINT.
So Vela did what generations of highly trained couriers have apparently done before her.
She left.

Then Its Ears Started Flashing
Approximately six minutes after takeoff, the passenger’s ears began blinking.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Vela assumed it was happy.
The navigation system assumed something else.
Pico-9’s autonomous traffic network identified the blinking pattern as a Priority Transit Beacon.
Every automated vehicle within twelve kilometers immediately rerouted behind Vela’s ship.
One taxi became six.
Six became forty.
Forty became two hundred and twelve.
By the time Jetta caught up with the story, the convoy included:
three commuter buses, eleven cargo haulers, a funeral limousine, twenty-seven taxis and a municipal landscaping vehicle still trimming shrubs as it traveled.
JETTA:
“Has anyone tried turning the alien off?”
Vela looked offended.
VELA:
“That's generally discouraged.”
The robot nodded.
JETTA:
“Fair.”
Traffic Control Had Suggestions
Jetta contacted Pico-9 Traffic Authority.
A tired four-eyed dispatcher named Halvo Prinn appeared on her portable monitor.
Behind him, every traffic display was red.
HALVO:
“We need the beacon disabled.”
JETTA:
“The beacon is an animal.”
HALVO:
“We need the animal disabled.”
Jetta slowly lowered the microphone.
HALVO:
“Poor choice of words.”
Behind them, a hover bus drifted through a fruit stand.
Nobody was injured.
The fruit became considerably more mobile.

Jetta Developed a Plan
Technically, Rex developed the plan.
This concerned everyone.
REX:
“What if you give traffic something brighter to follow?”
Silence.
JETTA:
“Rex…”
REX:
“Yes?”
JETTA:
“That might actually work.”
Rex visibly straightened.
REX:
“Please record that sentence separately.”
Jetta grabbed a battered emergency beacon from Vela’s cargo bay.
They activated it.
Nothing happened.
The little alien looked at the beacon.
Its ears flashed brighter.
Every vehicle accelerated.
JETTA:
“We have made the beacon competitive.”
REX:
“I withdraw my previous confidence.”
Then Nibs—the fluffy little creature riding in Jetta’s satchel—popped its head out.
The hitchhiker froze.
Nibs squeaked.
The alien squeaked back.
Its ears immediately stopped flashing.
Two hundred automated vehicles simultaneously lost their priority target.
And very politely pulled over.
Mostly.
One street sweeper continued for another six kilometers.
Nobody knows why.
The Investigation Gets Worse
Traffic Authority finally identified the hitchhiker as a juvenile Nebula Blinker.
Nebula Blinkers migrate between moons by attaching themselves to larger animals and mimicking navigation signals.
Unfortunately, modern transportation networks interpret their courtship signals as emergency traffic instructions.
Jetta looked at the creature.
JETTA:
“So this entire incident happened because he was flirting?”
Halvo checked the report.
HALVO:
“Technically.”
The robot slowly turned toward the alien.
Its display showed:
SERIOUSLY?
The alien chirped proudly.

Back to Rex
REX:
“So what happens to the passenger?”
Jetta looks behind her.
The Nebula Blinker is now sitting on top of Vela’s robot.
The robot appears deeply unhappy about this.
JETTA:
“Vela agreed to take him to the next moon.”
REX:
“Officially?”
JETTA:
“No.”
REX:
“Excellent.”
The creature’s ears begin glowing again.
Somewhere behind Jetta, an engine starts.
Jetta looks toward camera.
JETTA:
“Oh no.”
CUT TRANSMISSION.