I’ll never forget the first time I sat behind the yoke of dad’s old hovercar by myself, newly minted holo-license carefully filed in my e-wallet. I was all sweaty hands and cotton mouth and, for the life of me, I couldn’t get my knee to stop bouncing. But once I activated those jets and climbed to freeway altitude, all my nervousness vanished. I was a bird, free from moving pedways and public hovertransport. Free from having to travel on someone else’s schedule. This was my time to fly.