The Modest Proposal Institute: A YA Dystopian Thriller

by Paul James

  Alexis spoke over the monitors. “The space program will be buying more robots soon, Tomas. What is happening on Earth has convinced us we need to move even quicker on our program.”

  Shane watched and listened with a sinking heart. He’d thought he’d been successful in creating a measure of distrust with regard to Tomas, but the yesterday’s events had, if anything, raised Tomas even higher in the Founders’ estimation. Shane’s frustration at the Founders, and at his own inability to persuade them, made him want to punch a wall—or a Founder.

  As he left the chamber at the close of the meeting, Shane despondently messaged Alexis, requesting they talk.

  “What’s your opinion of that?” Shane demanded when he was in his room and safely out of anyone’s hearing.

  “I wouldn’t have believed Tomas could act so coolly,” Alexis said. “Both during the attack and today in the meeting. It didn’t seem like him at all.”

  “Now do you see why I think we have trouble in store if we don’t act?”

  “But if Tomas is as sensible as this when the going gets really tough, I think he’ll be an asset, not a danger.”

  Shane hardly knew what to say. In the face of such naivety, he was speechless.

  Alexis continued. “I see you’re shocked by my answer, but we have to face facts. He behaved well on that first occasion and then again yesterday. Based on that, if we are to have him as a third in a future triumvirate, he will be an asset.”

  Shane shook his head. “I don’t know why he behaved like a sane man yesterday, but I don’t trust him to behave that way in the future. I suspect he’s playing a deeper game than I thought him capable of, but that doesn’t mean he’s a fit person to be in charge of the institute. Not now, not ever.”

  “I think you’re prejudiced because you see his rise as a threat to you,” Alexis said.

  Shane debated whether to mention what he’d witnessed between Tomas and Nadia. He decided against. He would have to explain how he knew, and he thought it unlikely Alexis would believe him anyhow. His inability to convert anyone to his viewpoint was being demonstrated at every turn.

  “And I think you will only see the truth when it’s too late,” Shane snapped and shut off the communicator, angry with Alexis, the Institute leaders, the world, and himself. Why couldn’t he make them see what he could see so clearly?

  A few days later, the final investigation into Leon’s disappearance wrapped up, only deepening Shane’s anger. It had found no evidence of any wrongdoing and no explanation of what happened. Shane read the final report and the documents that went with it over and over, trying to find something they’d missed. Only one strand of the investigation mentioned in passing was odd. Without any prompting, an interviewee reminded the investigators that human beings, like all apparently solid matter, were actually comprised of nothing. The physical content of a human being could be compressed into a cube the size of a sugar lump.

  This gave Shane a new angle to consider, and he turned to the two physicists for information. Only Bronski was willing to give him any time.

  “Last time we spoke,” Bronski said, replying to Shane’s question, “you were wanting matter changed to light. This time it’s some kind of force that removes the emptiness from matter. This is just science fiction. I’m not saying either of these aren’t possible—lots of things are possible—but I’ve never heard of anyone in the world pursuing these as anything but theorems. I don’t believe anyone could have brought either into the range of probability without me or others hearing about it. So, no, I don’t believe this is what happened to Leon. The answer, when you find it, will be more down-to-earth than that.”

  Shane had done his own research before speaking to Bronski and knew that the man was telling the truth as he understood it. But a “down-to-earth” solution hadn’t been found, and the institute was full of geniuses, not to mention borderline scientific crazies, so the fantastical solution couldn’t be dismissed. He thanked the physicist for his time and hung up.

  Chapter 21: Leaving Europe

  Later in that year of 2028, Shane, Kurt, and Yves were called to an emergency meeting. It obviously concerned a new threat to security, but what that threat could be, they had no idea. The security systems were working well, and with the additional support of Tomas’s NuMen, worrying though Shane found them, it was hard to see how there could be any credible threat to the institute’s properties.

  “Thank you for coming, gentlemen,” Alexander said to the three security heads. “We want your thoughts and advice on an issue that is affecting our people who have, over the past years, returned to live in Britain and Europe.”

  “The institute’s security doesn’t provide security to private properties, Founder,” Kurt said, already not liking where the conversation was going.

  “That’s what we wanted to talk about,” Dean said. “There have been attacks against our factories and warehouses in Europe before, but until now they have just been by impoverished people hoping to find food. What has happened in the last few days, however, has been different.”

  Dean looked at Alexander, who picked up the explanation. “As you know, many of our people moved back to live in their homelands in gated communities, and they manage those communities on Institute principles. They’ve lately seen government agents demanding entrance to make on-the-spot inspections and threatening action against the people who live there. This has taken the form of harassment based on suspected health and safety violations in our workshops, even though we don’t employ anyone there; education violations against our kindergartens and home schools; tax violations against our people and their hobbies; and so on. They’re also challenging the communities’ rights to manage their own affairs, despite meeting all the local regulations. It is becoming clear that we are under attack. Could our security systems provide any support to these communities?”

  Shane, Kurt, and Yves glanced at each other. The look confirmed their shared opinion.

  Shane spoke for the group. “No, Founder, we can’t, and it would be unwise to do so.”

  “You suggest we should just abandon them?” the council chairman asked.

  “We suggest that if they want to be protected, people return to Institute properties where they can be protected.”

  “They are willing to pay the security project for support,” Alexander said.

  “It’s not about the cost, Founder. These attacks are not of the kind our systems are designed to protect against. We’re set up to fight off physical attacks, not legal or societal ones,” Yves said.

  “Our people feel physical attacks will be soon coming,” Alexander said.

  “They may be right,” Shane replied, “and in that event we can send in security staff and equipment to patrol the communities’ perimeters. But we can’t do anything about the legal challenges, and those are what will damage them. I suggest that if they wish to remain in these places, they stop working on their projects in the community workshops, send their children to Institute schools, and stop all payments that could be construed as ‘income’ from their Institute accounts into their outer world accounts. Just stop doing every activity that Western governments can construe as wrong.”

  “Unfortunately,” Dean said, “the biggest threat is to home schooling for our girls. The boys come to us when they’re seven, so there’s no real complaint against them. It’s because the girls stay behind that the authorities see a way to get more money out of the families.”

  “Then, Founder,” Shane replied, “I suggest we speak to the women who run the island schools for Institute families’ girls who don’t go back to the mainland for their education. They may be able to take on girls from Europe as boarders.”

  “We are meeting with them right after we finish here,” the council chairman said. “It was never our wish to get into girls’ schooling; the outside world seemed to be doing fine with that.”

  Dean nodded. “Our parents in Britain say things have become so bad that we need to begin ev
acuating our communities there immediately. It’s the ones in the European Union who are still considering holding on.”

  “Does the evacuation include our factories and warehouses?” Yves asked.

  “Not immediately, but we fear it will soon. The European governments and people are struggling. The end is in sight and you can be sure our properties will not escape forever. However, we’re taking our people out of Britain first.”

  “We can cover the evacuation, if our services are wanted,” Kurt said. “But we will need to plan how to do so without inflaming the situation.”

  “We’ll have the security project teams touch base with you,” Dean said.

  “And the communities?” Yves asked.

  “I think you need to contact our British communities directly.”

  “I suggest we return with the project teams when you meet with them, Founder,” Kurt said. “That way we’ll hear firsthand what they want.”

  “Very well,” the council chairman said. “If they’re happy with that, we’ll contact you. Hold yourselves ready.”

  Shane, Kurt, and Yves left the room deep in thought. To cover the evacuation of Institute people and assets in Britain was an operation that could go horribly wrong. Someone killed or injured, property destroyed, political foes enraged—all were possibilities that could start a war.

  “This is only the beginning,” Shane said. “All our people will have to be withdrawn from the old world eventually.”

  “We can’t force people to leave their homelands,” Yves responded. Shane remembered that he had a house in Quebec and loved the time he spent there with his family and friends.

  “Britain is just the first domino to fall,” Shane said. “When the same level of poverty arrives in Europe and North America, our properties there will also have to be withdrawn.”

  “That’s years away,” Yves responded.

  “That’s what the British thought,” Shane said, “but when the margin of error is so small, it only takes one wrong vote and catastrophically wrong policies for the end to be quick. Think about our Institute World History courses. The world has seen it happen so often.”

  “We’ll see,” Kurt said soothingly. “Right now, we have an urgent situation to deal with. The future will have to wait. And if we get this right, it’ll be a good model for the future you say is near.”

  Chapter 22: The Institute as “Lifeboat”

  The meeting with Institute women educators went as expected. The educators pointed out that they were set up to educate all Institute families’ girls until school age, and beyond that only the girls of families who didn’t want to send their children to the mainland boarding schools. They didn’t have the facilities to take on all the girls from families scattered across the globe.

  “At present, there would be an additional three hundred twenty-seven girls from Britain,” Alexander said. “If facilities were made available, could you get teachers?”

  “That’s an additional thirteen teachers,” the spokeswoman said. “It would take time to find and bring them on board.”

  Shane leaned toward Alexis, who had flown in for meetings with the Founders and taken the opportunity to join this one. “This is going nowhere,” he whispered.

  “It isn’t an easy problem to fix,” Alexis said. “You’re the security project leader and you’re the one with the undersea city, so you’re the best one to provide support.”

  “I doubt many of them will want to live under the sea.”

  “The spaceport properties have land where we could build schools for the girls,” Alexis said, thinking out loud, “but it goes against the whole ethos of our movement.”

  “There must still be some traditional girls’ schools in the West,” the women’s leader said. “I suggest we contract one or more of them to set up satellite schools on Institute properties. That way we can tap into their expertise.”

  Alexander frowned. “Can I ask you and your team to investigate and report back? They would have to understand that while they can teach in the ways that work for girls, we won’t accept destructive modern social theories. Our schools are about academic learning and physical health, nothing more.”

  “We will return with a proposal to take forward,” the spokeswoman said. “There’s no point in us investigating if we aren’t aligned on what is needed.”

  “Very well, but have the proposal here in two days, and include Alexis and Shane in its development. You need to know what their people can do for you.”

  “What have you concluded?” Alexander asked when the women returned to deliver their report.

  “We are proposing that we begin migrating girls from Britain into Institute lands to act as a kind of ‘lifeboat’ for traditional Western culture. It will require considerable investment, however, and we expect it to be years before we are able to have all Institute families’ girls and women here.”

  The Founders and governing council waited, expecting more. Finally, Dean said, “Have you spoken to traditional girls’ schools or considered any of the other items we discussed previously?”

  “We have, and it’s on that basis we make our recommendation,” the spokeswoman said. “Many of the schools we spoke to say they would be happy take up our offer of satellite facilities on Institute properties if only to escape the constant deluge of interference and politicizing they are forced to put up with. The security project says they can only protect the schools if they are inside our borders. Our recommendation was, therefore, easy to make. The only issues are affordability and timing.”

  “Thank you,” Dean said. “Please leave us to discuss what can be done. We will call you back when we have a decision.”

  When the women left, the arguments began in earnest. Many of the men had hoped the recommendation would be to continue educating only the daughters of internal Institute families and not bringing in those from outside.

  “Western Europe is collapsing much quicker than I’d imagined,” Dean said, “so I agree with the recommendation.”

  “But, Dean,” Alexander said, “it goes against everything you wrote in The Modest Proposal. They will distract the boys from their work. They will demand changes to suit them that will weaken our order. We can’t do this safely. I’m sorry for them, but we cannot—must not—do this.”

  “Founder,” Alexis said, “we can arrange it so the women are separate. Schools used to have boys’ and girls’ classes, even boy scouts and girl guides. In times past, men didn’t live on separate islands, but they managed for centuries to keep the necessary separation of the sexes.”

  “But that broke down,” Shane interjected. “It’s true, for many centuries males and females were partially separated while growing up, but it only took a few decades of being raised together to bring about the downfall of the West. I agree with Alexander. This must not happen.”

  The discussion grew heated and continued for some time before the Founders called a halt.

  “We’re going around in circles,” Dean said at last. “We’ve heard nothing new now for an hour. I propose we stop, consider overnight what has been said, and reconvene in the morning.”

  The meeting broke up in noisy discussion among the members, but Shane noticed the two Founders left together in silence. This was shaping up to be the sternest test the institute had faced to date, and a mass of women hadn’t even landed on Institute land yet. What the future would be like with them actually there was unimaginable.

  They were called back to the council chamber the following morning. When they were all assembled, Dean began to speak.

  “Alexander and I have gone through everything we heard yesterday and come to a decision. We have gathered you here to give you an opportunity for questions.”

  He paused and looked at the assembled council members and Alexis and Shane. When there was no comment from the assembly, he continued. “As you know, I was in favor of the recommendation the women put to us yesterday and Alexander was not. The decision we have reached is a compromi
se between those two positions. I’ll let Alexander explain further.”

  Alexander cleared his throat. “My opinion was that the only sensible course of action was to continue as we are. However, during the presentation and discussion yesterday, I heard things that made me change my mind. Up until recently, I thought the West had sufficient inherited wealth and broadly based economies to decline slowly and manageably, but it seems the hollowing out of the West’s productive capabilities was more extensive than even I understood. That being the case, I understand the spokeswoman’s use of the word ‘lifeboat.’ Just as we thought of the institute as a ‘lifeboat’ for men, so now I see it must become a ‘lifeboat’ for like-minded women as well.”

  He paused to gauge the room before continuing. No one spoke. “The question remains: How do we bring more girls on board our lifeboat without it sinking? What happened to the West must not happen to us. The compromise we propose is that we bring only the British Institute girls and women onto our properties at this time and have them attend schools and manage projects that suit them. However”—he paused for emphasis—“they will not go to the boys’ schools and they will not take part in the men’s projects. The upset that destroyed the West’s schools and workplaces will not happen here.”

  “But how will that work, Founder?” Shane burst out, unable to contain his frustration any longer. “The moment they’re here, they will be agitating to get into everything. There will be no way of stopping them.”

  “I share your feelings, Shane,” Alexander replied, “but we have to save at least our immediate Institute families, and that alone will bring hundreds of girls and women onto our lands. The best that we can do is manage the situation.”

  “I can’t agree, Founder,” Shane replied. “This will set us on the path to ruin, even though it may take years to happen.” Mentally, he vowed to accommodate none of them in his underwater cities except as wives and daughters of the institute’s men.