After listening to my experiences with the DLCx — I was careful not to call her Tootles in his
presence — Ashram noted there were only two possible explanations.
“It’s possible your car was infected by a malicious virus. However, I think we’d have heard of
other vehicles with similar issues if such a virus existed. More likely is that your car’s software
was reprogrammed deliberately. However, it appears that multiple systems in your DLCx were
hacked, which would require a high degree of sophistication and knowledge of the vehicle.
Frankly, nothing in your background indicates you have that capability.”
“So I’m off the hook?”
“I do technology, not law, but I don’t see how you could be held responsible, unless you
are friends with a cabal of hackers, or a virtual Einstein of technology. You’re not, are you?”
“Of course not.”
But I wasn’t entirely sure.
Shortly after I acquired my DLCx, Uncle Amit had been in the DC area for a week. He’d
admired my car and I let him use it each day after dropping me off at work. When he left, he
proclaimed that my DLCx was the most exquisite machine he’d “ever laid hands on.” I should
have been more attentive to his word choice.
Despite knowing him my entire life, I didn’t know how Uncle Amit earned his living.
Whe