Peggy Wilson approached her destination—Burleson Park in Gila Bend, Arizona. She rode a twenty-five-year-old Honda motorcycle built in the year 2086. Coincidently, that was the same year Peggy had been born.
While non-autonomous vehicles were still legal, they were less and less common. She knew anyone seeing her bike would notice it was under manual control, which would make it stand out. While being noticed on this trip was undesirable, it was far less of a concern than the idea of a log from an autonomous car being able to track this trip.
Peggy was slightly shorter than average, with long brown hair and a bubbly personality. She was independent and always tried to get the most out of life. This trip was the fourth one she’d made to meet her contact. If she saw anyone other than the m
