The Modest Proposal Institute: A YA Dystopian Thriller

by Paul James

  “Thanks,” Shane said. “Maybe they can shed some light on what happened. Certainly nothing we’ve tried has.”

  However, the physicists, when Shane spoke to them, seemed no more helpful than anyone else had been.

  “If the bright flash had evaporated Leon,” Cathcart said caustically, “it would have evaporated everything nearby and turned the beach sand to glass.”

  “I used the word ‘evaporated’ to explain what I meant,” Shane said, “not because I don’t understand evaporation. Is there a possibility that an intense burst of light could disintegrate something close by?”

  “You should be more precise in your terminology. You led us astray,” Bronski said, his tone almost sulky. “I’ve certainly never heard of such a thing, light disintegrating a person in microseconds. Impossible.”

  “But things do disintegrate over time in bright light, don’t they?” Shane asked. “And I’ve read that, theoretically, light can become matter and matter light.”

  “But not people,” Cathcart snapped.

  “So, it isn’t possible?”

  There was silence as the two physicists looked at each other, each hoping the other would find a crushing response.

  “Research has shown that light can become matter and matter can become light,” Cathcart said slowly, “but I’ve never heard of it being demonstrated at anything but the atomic level, and I keep myself current in the world’s published papers.”

  Then it is possible, Shane thought as he thanked the two physicists and shut off the communication link. Could someone at the institute—Tomas and his team perhaps—have developed a weapon based on this research and tested it that night during the exercise? And if they did, why kill Leon? Was it just an accident? An attempt to destroy a NuMan that went wrong? Or was the answer so obvious that he was too stupid to see it?

  Whatever the answer was, it stunk of Tomas. Shane was sure of that. He needed to go through that guy’s life and character from start to finish.

  Chapter 10: #NoMoreEmpires

  From the moment he arrived, Tomas was one of the “brilliant jerks” who’d migrated to the institute as a man and not a boy. He was probably in his thirties when he arrived from the US, where he’d been developing robots at a laboratory in Boston. His work there had fallen foul of the prevailing orthodoxy because, while his robots were masters of all physical attributes, at the forefront in agility and ability, their artificial intelligence differed from what was accepted by Western society, which was concerned about computers accepting at face value things that humans had chosen to believe to be something different. Tomas had no time for such nonsense and was continually tied up in wrangling with his critics until, in a rage, he’d quit and moved himself and his prototypes to the institute.

  The Engineering Island had already been in existence for two years when Tomas arrived. The engineers were so focused on the space plane and its earthbound brother, the hypersonic airliner, that Tomas and his robots were overlooked for the first year. This didn’t seem to bother him. If anything, he preferred the lack of attention—at first. He assembled his project team from some of his ex-colleagues and others well known in the world of AI and robotics. Together, they steadily improved their chief product, the NuMan. It was a robot with the shape and size of a large man but the strength and speed of a superhero, enhanced by a fast-developing intelligence that made it a match for most humans in an ever-wider range of activities.

  The first contact Shane and the others had with Tomas and the NuMen was when Kurt and Yves began recruiting and training their new Security Force.

  Tomas had approached the three leaders of the security project one evening as they were discussing their plans over coffee in the university cafeteria. “Gentlemen,” he greeted them, his American accent still heavy with Eastern European undertones.

  “Tomas,” Kurt responded.

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  “What kind of proposition?” Shane asked warily.

  “I’d like you to include one of my NuMen in your security training. It would be good for the robot project to have real-world experience in an area where we can expect robots to be widely used, and it would be good for your trainees and instructors to learn how to work with—and against—the future of warfare and terrorism.”

  The three friends looked at one another. Tomas’s words were true, but the underlying suggestion made them uncomfortable.

  “We aren’t training to go to war,” Yves said.

  “But you are training to defeat any attacks on our possessions, and you can be sure robots will be part of that future,” Tomas replied.

  They couldn’t deny the logic, but they were still unable to accept his proposition wholeheartedly.

  Tomas sensed their hesitation. “I’ll ensure you and the instructors have complete control over what the robot does in the exercises.”

  “Let us talk it over with the instructors,” Shane said. “When we have a better picture of how this might work, we’ll sit down with you to develop a strategy. Right now, the idea is too new for us to say Yay or Nay.”

  Tomas nodded. “I know it’s scary, but you won’t regret it. I’ll see that the NuMan doesn’t hurt anyone. Your guys are going to meet something like a NuMan in the field someday, so they’d better be ready for it.”

  Though they’d played for time, they knew Tomas was right. The following day they invited Tomas and his team to meet with the rest of the security team and work out the details. From that time on, NuMen were part of the Security Forces. Their involvement grew steadily from a single simple unit to many more units of ever-increasing sophistication, until the evening Tomas and his team brought their latest NuMan to a night exercise and it blew away everything they’d ever seen. That was when their fears had really started. The robots’ part in the exercises and Institute defense had grown far beyond their expected range. Now they were the institute’s principal defense and completely under the robot team’s control.

  The robot project had grown stealthily into its power, and Shane hoped Tomas would take badly to the Founders’ sudden suspicious interest. Shane wasn’t entirely disappointed.

  “What did you say to the Founders that got them so suspicious?” Tomas demanded of Shane on the day following the Founders’ meeting.

  Shane had already thought through how he would answer Tomas’s questions. The last thing anyone needed was an angry Tomas—and Tomas was a man with a short fuse. “I think it was Leon’s disappearance that got to them, but I guess we were also too awed by what we’ve been seeing with the NuMen. That probably got them concerned as well. We oversold your achievement—sorry about that.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not good. Now they want to know everything we do. It’s like being back in Boston.”

  “They’ll settle down,” Shane said. “When Kurt and Yves started the security project, they were right on top of it until they saw it wasn’t some attempt to take over the institute. That’s what gets them concerned—any possible threat to the institute.”

  Tomas didn’t flinch. “Those two guys are getting too old to be in charge. We need to think about succession planning.”

  “Saying stuff like that will really convince them you’re up to no good.”

  Tomas laughed lightheartedly. “You’re right. It just got under my skin, them demanding we show them what we’ve got and report back to them every week.”

  “Like I said,” Shane replied soothingly, “they’ll be interested for a month or so, then other things will grab their attention. They just want to know they can trust you.” He paused, then, feigning distraction, asked, “Have you had any new thoughts on what happened to Leon?”

  Tomas shrugged. “None. What I do know is that it had nothing to do with the NuMen. And, before you ask, I haven’t invented any life-sucking weaponry either. I’m as confused as everyone else.”

  Shane nodded. “I don’t understand either, but people don’t just disappear.”

  “It sounds like you th
ink I had something to do with what happened,” Tomas said, his expression darkening.

  Shane shook his head. “I don’t,” he lied. “I’m just looking for ideas.”

  “No good looking at me then,” Tomas said dispassionately, and walked away.

  Unhappy, Shane went in search of Kurt and Yves to warn them of possible trouble ahead. As he went, he thought again of the brilliant flash of light. It seemed to be the key to the whole mystery, and he decided he would continue to research the transformation of matter to light and light to matter.

  Chapter 11: Second Blood to the Institute

  Not right away, but some months later, Shane was proven right about the aftermath of the first attack on the island. When the world realized they’d been hoodwinked into believing a massacre had occurred, the media howled with outrage at their humiliation for having fallen for this “fake news.” In revenge, they were quick to find instances of Institute behavior that could be construed as evil, and these they broadcast in a never-ending stream of slyly twisted stories.

  Early that following year of 2027, European warships and troops returned. The institute’s security system, now fully implemented, picked up their intrusion and its robots warned the approaching force to turn around. The attackers ignored the warnings and came steadily on.

  From the island, the Founders, the governing council, Shane, Kurt, Yves, and Tomas watched the approach of the small fleet.

  “We suggest using the ‘mosquitoes’ to knock out the people on board,” Kurt said.

  “How do we get the mosquitoes there?” Tomas demanded.

  “We have robots of our own, though they’re not as sophisticated as yours” Yves replied. “They float inside our security perimeter waiting for just this type of occasion.”

  “The question has always been, will they be able to knock out everyone on board,” Alexander said bluntly. “If the mosquitoes don’t get everyone, we could end up in a firefight when we go onboard to take control.”

  “They’re programmed to hunt and inject any live bodies,” said Yves.

  “Our alternative measures are worse for them,” Shane reminded the Founders. “The compressed air torpedoes—the Bubblers, they’re called—would sink the fleet with total loss of life. We always assumed they would be a last resort.”

  Dean frowned. “What about your new electro-magnetic pulse weapon? Wouldn’t frying their electronics be less violent?”

  “The EMP might not be enough,” Shane said, “because, like most EU ships, these are older vessels and will still be able to maneuver on manual systems.”

  Kurt shrugged. “I think we should use them anyhow. Kill their communications before the mosquitoes arrive and begin to anesthetize them.”

  “I’d rather use my marine NuMen,” Tomas said.

  “The fleet would likely open fire on them as they approached.”

  “They wouldn’t see them. They’d remain cloaked until they were on top of them.”

  “And then there’d be a firefight on the ships,” Kurt protested. “People will be killed. We can’t allow that to happen—we’ve said it a thousand times. If we start the killing, we give them the excuse they’re looking for to attack us in full force, and we aren’t strong enough to survive that.”

  Alexander cut in, reclaiming control. “I’m proposing to the council that we use the EMP weapons and mosquitoes and that we do it now.” Alexander turned. “Well, council, do you need time to deliberate?”

  The council members looked at each other briefly. It seemed enough for the council chairman to say, “We concur.”

  “Then, security team,” Dean said, “you have your orders.”

  Kurt took out his phone and began typing. The island’s runway appeared on one of the room’s many monitors. Four small missiles lifted off, heading into the darkening afternoon sky.

  Yves was also working quickly on his phone and, on another monitor, torpedo-like craft surfaced and began to seek out their prey.

  The lights of the ships could now be seen in the growing darkness. The institute’s leaders watched the screens as the missiles, skimming low across the sea, locked on to the incoming ships and the subsea craft also closed in on them. Shane watched Tomas, hoping he would demonstrate once again to the Founders his eagerness for war.

  “EMP weapons first,” Kurt said. “We’ve never tested them against anything as large as a warship before, so this will be a test as well as first blood.”

  The missiles arrowed in toward their targets, one to each ship. They heard the radar operators warning the ships’ bridge crews of the intruders and trying to decide on their course of action.

  Before the ships’ crews could respond, the institute’s missiles were alongside each ship and Kurt pressed the button to initiate the EMP weapons. The monitoring robots heard the ships’ communications systems give an ear-splitting squeal and then go silent. Kurt nodded to Yves, who pressed the signal for the torpedoes to launch their cargo of mosquitoes.

  The monitoring robots broadcasted sounds of the mosquitoes invading the ships, injecting their victims with anesthetic. There was a brief period of cursing and chaos, then, slowly, the voices of the crew died away. On the island, an awed silence filled the Control Room.

  “Time to get your Security Guards on board before those ships crash into each other,” Alexander said, speaking suddenly as if waking from a dream.

  “They’re on their way, Founder,” Kurt said. “We were just waiting for it to be safe to go.”

  On the monitors, the ships began to drift from their courses. Everyone was relieved to see the security team’s helicopters landing on each ship’s helipad and Security Guards racing to take over the ships’ controls.

  “We’ll steer them out into the ocean, then disable their engines before alerting the EU to come and collect them,” Shane said. “Unless there’s some other course of action you think would be better?”

  “I’d like to sail them back to Europe and dump them on a beach,” Alexander growled, “but I think we have enough trouble on our hands without angering them into actually declaring war. At least this way they can continue pretending it’s all a mistake.”

  “I think tomorrow we should revisit our evacuation plans for this island,” Dean said. “We’re too close to Europe and they’re growing desperate. The next attempt may be even more warlike.”

  “The governing council will look at that in the morning, sir,” the council chair said.

  “Excellent,” Dean said. “I fear the world’s crisis is coming to our door sooner than we imagined.”

  “We should reach out to our friends around the world,” Alexander said. “Maybe they can restrain the Europeans.”

  Dean’s expression turned gloomy. “Unfortunately, the Europeans are in desperate straits now. They were in a weak state before the last recession, but now all their countries are struggling. During our last visit, we learned that the electrical power systems are down more often than running. Without electricity, modern life isn’t possible.”

  “All the more reason to get the Americans, Russians, and Chinese to provide some restraint,” Alexander said. “If the Europeans think we can be looted without consequence, nothing we do will stop them—but others can.”

  The governing council convened the next day and began its deliberations. As the day wore on, they pulled in others who could add to the discussion. Tomas was one of the first to be asked for information and advice.

  “I’m confident that the NuMan fleet can protect the island,” Tomas said when asked if he thought the island could be defended against a larger force than they’d just witnessed.

  “Is there any way the NuMen could defend us without killing anyone?”

  “No,” Tomas admitted, “not as they’re presently equipped and educated. I could, of course, consider different scenarios.”

  “But you are confident we would win a fight against warships with heavy guns and surface-to-surface missiles?”

  “Yes,” Tomas replied.
“The NuMen have trained with the security teams on such exercises and done well enough to cement my confidence.”

  Shane, who was in line to speak after Tomas, frowned with annoyance. This was madness.

  When he was invited to speak, he quickly contradicted everything Tomas had said. The security team and the NuMen had indeed defeated attackers during exercises, but not in real life. The island would receive many direct hits and sustain serious damage—even casualties—before the attacking force was overcome. In his view, the school should be evacuated immediately and the island turned into a fully automatic manufacturing space. In that way, no aggressor would have anything to gain from attempting to take the island.

  “You think it’s the children they’re after?” The council chairman shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

  “No, sir. I think they believe that, as long as there are people here, the island is our headquarters and therefore where we keep our wealth. They’re desperate. Their societies are falling apart, and that’s turning them into little more than pirates.”

  “We have a lot invested in this island,” a council member reminded him.

  “Those investments don’t need to be lost. Most of the security equipment can remain to protect the factories we build here. Other equipment can be saved by moving it to our other islands, where it can be used productively and far from Northern Africa and Europe.”

  The council heard from Kurt and Yves, and then from Alexis, who was on leave from his aerospace training, returning by way of New York and another round of television interviews. He reported that, in his view, the Americans wanted nothing to do with the European attacks on the institute, but were also reluctant to intervene.