"Motion sickness and pride issues," I said. "Equal parts."
Howard nodded slowly. "She in danger?"
"Nope. Auto-stabilized. Max speed six knots. She'll get bored before she drowns."
The younger deputy beside him coughed to hide a laugh.
"All right," Howard said, pulling out his radio. "We'll call the fire boat to escort her in when she's done spinning."
"Appreciate it," I said. "I've got the footage if you want it."
"Oh, I'll want it," Howard said, half-smiling. "The DA's going to frame it."
We stood there for a while, the three of us, watching Skyler circle the lake like a furious moon. Around minute forty, she sat down. Minute forty-five, she slumped. By minute fifty, she looked ready to join the fish.
When Ghost's battery dropped below 20%, the system automatically guided her back to the dock. The motor slowed, the bow aligned, and the boat coasted to a perfect stop with a gentle bump against the rubber bumper.
Skyler tried to stand, missed, and landed half-in, half-out of the boat, one sneaker in the water. Deputy Howard caught her by the arm before she face-planted.
"Ma'am," he said in the calm tone of someone explaining gravity to a toddler, "you're trespassing."
"I was ensuring community safety!" she croaked, clutching the railing. "That man's vessel was blocking access!"
Howard looked at me. I shrugged. "She blocked it better than I ever could."
The medic checked her over: no injuries, just nausea and a deeply bruised ego.
Howard turned back to me. "You sure you don't want to press charges?"