You Are Now the Pilot

Airlines have gone fully democratic—passengers vote on every decision mid-flight. When Brandon answers a few casual prompts, he’s promoted to Decision Pilot. He doesn’t know where they’re going. But the plane sure thinks he does.

You Are Now the Pilot
Photo by William Topa / Unsplash

It started with a ping.

“Would you like to avoid turbulence?”
[Yes] [No] [Unsure]

Ethan tapped Yes and went back to watching a nature documentary about wolves betraying each other.

Two minutes later:
“Cabin temperature: 72°F or 68°F?”
He chose 68°F. He liked to feel his skin exist.

Then came:
“Enable softer landing gear compression?”
Sure. Yes. Whatever that meant.

A chime. A small applause emoji popped up with the message:
“You’ve earned: Class B Decision Pilot.”

He blinked. The overhead lights dimmed slightly in his row. A stewardess passed by and nodded—not at him, but toward him, like he was an object of shared knowledge.

Another ping.

“Flight path reroute available due to weather shift. Approve?”
[Yes] [No] [Request alternate]

Ethan hesitated, then pressed Request alternate. The screen paused, then responded:
“No alternate available. Your decisiveness is valued.”

A new badge: Assertive Navigator.

He opened the in-flight map. Their plane was now doing a gentle zigzag. Another ping.

“Would you like to skip beverage service to reduce drag?”
Ethan said no. Immediately, the drink cart skipped his row.
Another ping:
“Your leadership has consequences.”

His seat reclined slightly on its own.

An announcement came over the intercom. It was not the pilot’s voice. It was smoother—like it had been EQ’d for trust.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our Decision Pilot has opted for a more efficient route. Please join us in thanking him for optimizing your journey.”

Heads turned. A few clapped politely. A baby stopped crying. Ethan shrunk.

He opened the in-flight portal. There was a new tab:
“Mission Control”

Inside: fuel levels, atmospheric maps, regional diplomacy flags (?), and an unread message:
“Airspace Violation Warning: Russian Federation. Suggested Action?”
[Negotiate] [Divert] [Assert Position]

Ethan stared. His hand hovered. He chose Negotiate.
The screen flashed green: “Good instincts. Negotiations successful.”

He began sweating. The plane adjusted altitude.

Another ping.

“Passenger 14B is attempting a mutiny vote. Approve lockdown?”
[Yes] [No]

He pressed No, unsure why. A message:
“Merciful. Noted.”

A card printed from the armrest. It read:
“You Are Now the Pilot.”
It had a lanyard.

The door to the cockpit opened automatically.

A flight attendant gestured politely: “They’re ready for you.”

He stood up, stumbled forward. Inside the cockpit: nothing. No switches, no controls. Just a chair, and a screen that read:
“Please Confirm: Final Landing Coordinates.”

There were three options:
[Newark] [JFK] [Classified]

He pressed JFK. The screen went dark.

Outside, the plane descended smoothly. Applause rippled again.

He returned to his seat.

A new ping.

“Would you like to hand off control to the next Decision Pilot?”
[Yes] [No]

He hesitated.

The screen blinked twice. Then:
“Inactivity detected. Revoking authority.”
The badge dissolved.

In the row ahead, a young boy’s screen lit up.
“Would you like to enable emergency descent protocol?”
He pressed Yes.
The seat vibrated slightly. He giggled.

Ethan watched, silently.
The boy’s mother leaned in. “What are you playing?”

He grinned. “I’m the pilot now.”