by Paul James
NO MORE EMPIRES
PAUL JAMES
NO MORE EMPIRES
Paul James
The Modest Proposal Institute© Copyright 2019 Paul James
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
For more information, email: [email protected]
Or visit my Facebook Page:
https://www.facebook.com/pauljamesauthor/
or my website: http://www.oldpathnewfuture.com
BONUS CONTENT
BOOK 1: AN OLD PATH TO A NEW FUTURE
And, if you haven’t already read Book 1, you can buy it here, or here (if you’re in the UK)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: 2125—The End (Again)
Chapter 2: Deep Dive
Chapter 3: Pushing Alexis Aside
Chapter 4: People Don’t Just Disappear
Chapter 5: Adulting Sucks
Chapter 6: Success and Suspicion
Chapter 7: Shane Callaghan, P.I.
Chapter 8: First Blood to the Institute
Chapter 9: A Question of Physics
Chapter 10: #NoMoreEmpires
Chapter 11: Second Blood to the Institute
Chapter 12: Duarchy or Triumvirate?
Chapter 13: The Institute Draws Real Blood
Chapter 14: Alexis and Nadia
Chapter 15: The World Closing In
Chapter 16: Societal Collapse
Chapter 17: The Institutes Goes Underwater
Chapter 18: Barbarians at the Gate
Chapter 19: Barbarians Defeated
Chapter 20: Tomas Praised, Shane Dismayed
Chapter 21: Leaving Europe
Chapter 22: The Institute as “Lifeboat”
Chapter 23: Underwater World Underway
Chapter 24: Unlikely and Unstable Alliance
Chapter 25: Pirate Games
Chapter 26: Trade, Not Aid
Chapter 27: An Ugly Confrontation
Chapter 28: Time to Go
Chapter 29: The Institute Fights Back
Chapter 30: Success . . . of a Sort
Chapter 31: The Institute on the Moon
Chapter 32: Underwater Institute Sinks from View
Chapter 33: Spaceport Besieged
Chapter 34: Gaining Support
Chapter 35: Under Attack at the Spaceport
Chapter 36: A Fighting Retreat
Chapter 37: Fortress Spaceport
Chapter 38: The Old Institute Ends
Chapter 39: Asymmetric Warfare
Chapter 40: Leaving the World
Chapter 41: Tomas Vindicated
Chapter 42: A Demonstration of Power
Chapter 43: Calm Before the Storm
Chapter 44: Gathering Storm
Chapter 45: Shane Takes Charge
Chapter 46: The Institute Reshaped
Chapter 47: Separate Existences
Chapter 48: A Rich New World
Chapter 49: Earth-View Hotel
Chapter 50: All Quiet—For Now
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter 1: 2125—The End (Again)
Here he comes, thought Shane. The sight of the once-strong, now-frail Alexis walking across the hall in a slow stoop made him glad he’d never been so vigorous in his own youth. It was not worth that wasting away. Alexis’s stubborn pride in his own physique made him resist all those improvements that Shane had embraced. Now, while Alexis looked—and no doubt felt—old, he, Shane, felt better than he ever had. Almost every one of his body parts had been replaced, and even his own original, un-replaced brain was regularly flushed and refurbished. Immortality had left dreamspace and was now everyday stuff to the people of the institute. That is, to everyone except traditionalists like Alexis who thought you should age naturally. Shane shook his head in disbelief. Was that stupid or what?
“Hi, Alexis,” he said, feigning surprise as the old man came close. “What’s up?” As if he didn’t know. The old fool had been asking for the same thing every day for a year—Shane’s recollections of the institute’s first days.
Alexis arrived at Shane’s side. “I’ve begun recording my memories. Have you given it any further thought?”
“I’ve been busy,” Shane replied. He wanted to point out the ridiculousness of the request—how Alexis needed to record his memories before he was one, whereas he, Shane, was still looking forward to the future and not the past.
“One day you’ll regret not capturing our history.”
“I said I’ll think about it.” He heard the exasperation in his own tone and wondered if the brain refurbishments weren’t introducing some worryingly normal human responses. “It’s all fine for you. Your guys up there in space have things in hand. You have time to reminisce. Down here, I’m always fighting fires.”
“Maybe if you were more conciliatory toward people—” Alexis began.
“Says the man famous for his TV outbursts telling the public they’re idiots and we are the only right people on the planet.”
Alexis almost winced. “That was a long time ago. I’ve long since regretted being so blunt.”
“Your outbursts were right. Your regrets are wrong,” Shane snapped. “Tell people the truth and they can fix things. Telling them touchy-feely platitudes only lets them suffer longer.”
Alexis sighed, weary of the rehearsed conversation. They’d been through these arguments countless times, and recording his memories had made him realize the discussion was a replica of the one Dean and his grandfather, Alexander, used to have repeatedly.
“We will never agree on this,” Alexis said at last. “If you want your voice to be heard, you need to record things as you see them.”
The suggestion made Shane pause. He fully expected to be in the future as the leader of the institute, particularly as Alexis had so clearly decided on a slow suicide. But to have Alexis’s dead voice whispering to the world from an unchallenged past? That was a complication he could do without.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it—but in my own time.”
Alexis smiled. “Good. I look forward to comparing your memories with mine.”
“I doubt they’ll match. Where did you start?”
“I started with Dean and my Grandfather meeting, and our first day at the institute.”
“That’s kid’s stuff,” Shane said. “Who needs to know that?”
Alexis shrugged. “Start where you like. Just start.”
But starting wasn’t as easy as it sounded. In truth, that was why he hadn’t begun when Alexis first mentioned it. There were some things he’d rather not remember—a hesitancy that again made him wonder if the steady replacement of body parts and brain refurbishments were changing him. He was sure he never used to be ashamed of his past behavior. Yet here he was, selecting what to record, what to explain, and what to ignore.
What should he do about those first school years? He hadn’t done anything truly wrong—even today he could see that—but they were embarrassing. All those pranks just seemed childish now. What had he been thinking?
The years that came more recently were too raw and fresh in his mind to capture honestly. He hadn’t been wrong then either, but things hadn’t gone well and the cost was high.
He decided to start somewhere after his childish years, but not too close to the present where reminders of failure and def
eat lay all around. Failure and defeat. Shane gave himself a mental slap. Such talk was unacceptable. They’d suffered setbacks—that was all. Maybe Alexis had a point, he decided. A record made at this time would be useful as a lesson to his future self. After all, Alexis wouldn’t be there to give the lesson.
It wasn’t as if the story was even all his to tell. Many of the formative events from those times involved others. He’d been on the edge, watching through the all-seeing monitors as others more foolhardy than him tried to make things happen or prevent things from happening. Their story wasn’t really his to tell, but he did remember the events clearly—as clearly as anyone remembered anything.
The thought made him angry. None of it would even be necessary but for the destruction of so many of the institute’s records in the seemingly endless cycle of conflict that began as soon as the institute was established.
Thinking on that destruction decided it for him. Shane was sure the institute would triumph in the end—soon probably—but what if it didn’t? He remembered Dean telling them of Alfred the Great, the man who’d set the modern world on its path. He was the first man who could really be described as King of the English, although he wasn’t quite that. When six of the seven English kingdoms had fallen to the Vikings and he thought they would be lost to history, Alfred commissioned the writing of The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles to record the doings of his people. Alfred documented this so that, no matter what happened to the people themselves, their history would not be lost.
Just like Alfred, Alexis was right. Whatever the future might hold, the past must be recorded and saved for it.
Shane shrugged. These were somber thoughts. He would start, he decided, when he was nearly sixteen, in the final year at school, 2026, and then his university years and on, telling the story at the time where he was most sure: the time he and Alexis came to the common, unspoken understanding that they would be the future Duarchy—the successors to the Founders—and together lead the institute to greatness. Their alliance was made easy by the separate futures they’d chosen—futures that represented the institute’s own great split.
Chapter 2: Deep Dive
Shane lifted a helmet from the rack and paused. The distant droning that caught his attention made him to look up. High above his head, he saw two planes. He watched them for a minute. Inside, he knew, were Alexis and Jamie. They were never out of some kind of flying machine nowadays. He wished them well, or at least he wished them gone, which was the same thing, really. The institute’s ships were now flying regular missions into space, and soon Alexis and Jamie would go with them—and he would be rid of the one major irritant in his life.
He placed the helmet over his head and locked it into place. Many found the underwater suits claustrophobic, but Shane liked them. Inside the suit, everything was sterile, quiet, and serene. Inside, there was only himself in his own world. That was all he’d ever wanted.
The instructor signaled that it was time to go and Shane crossed to the two-seat trainer Manta Ray. By the time he was in his seat and the safety harness fastened, the instructor was carrying out final checks with the Control Tower.
“Take it away, Mr. Callaghan.”
Shane ran through the safety checks. The dashboard confirmed the engines were running properly and, when the green lights came on, he released the brakes and steered the Ray toward the ramp and the sea.
As the vehicle rolled slowly forward, the computer confirmed the hatches were closed and the vehicle was safe to dive. Shane glanced at the instructor seated beside him, who nodded in reply. He pressed the accelerator and the jets wound up, their whistling barely audible from inside the suit. With easy agility the Ray sped forward and into the sea. The hull floated, the wheels retracted, and the covers locked into place. He pressed the accelerator further, and the Ray skimmed across the water’s smooth surface on its hydroplanes.
The Manta Ray reached the training spot in minutes. Shane cut the engines and let the craft settle back onto its hull. On the screen, he saw the intake and exit cover of the jets close and waited for the dashboard to signal them sealed. When it did, he lowered and started the propulsion pods. The craft accelerated smoothly before he set it on its course to the seabed.
The welcoming silence grew deeper below the water and, once the pale light of the sun dimmed, Shane relaxed. He loved the underwater world. As the craft sank, the twinkling lights of sea creatures began to appear. Down here, away from the glare of the sun, it seemed every creature carried its own light. The darkness was alive with it—from the starlight glow of billions of plankton to the bright suns of larger creatures. Shane cut the propulsion motors and let the Manta Ray settle into the sand. He switched off the remaining lights of the craft to watch the underwater world go by.
As the undersea creatures realized the intruder had settled, they came out in their hundreds. They came slowly at first, gaining courage as the Ray remained motionless. Shane watched them in awe. In all his life, he’d never felt anything like this admiration, this longing to be a part of something, this desire to protect something from the horrors he knew were lurking above them.
“In your own time, Mr. Callaghan.”
The instructor’s voice in his earpiece brought Shane back to the purpose of today’s lesson—a capsule escape from the Manta Ray. He nodded and began the computer checks of his suit. Numbers and symbols flashed on the visor of his helmet, confirming that his suit was sealed and in working order. He pressed the test sequence button for the capsule and the dashboard confirmed that the capsule, too, was ready to go.
“I’ll see you back at base,” he said to the instructor, then pushed the release button. The capsule disengaged from the craft and began its slow, measured ascent to the surface. Shane watched the capsule’s surveillance screens as the Manta Ray’s light came on and the craft rose from the seabed, tracking the capsule toward the surface. Around him, the darkness of the deep water gave way to faint green light and new, different fish swam about, marking the transitions in the ocean’s layers.
Shane released the tethered buoy that would signal his position and, he hoped, would have the rescue chopper hovering overhead even before the capsule surfaced. As much as he loved the seabed and its darkness, the swell at the ocean’s surface often made him nauseous.
His hopes were met. When the clear glass ceiling of the escape capsule broke through to air, he saw the dark form of a helicopter immediately above him. A moment later, the Manta Ray surfaced not far away, looking strangely broken with half the cockpit missing. He released the cylindrical chute that would prevent water from entering the capsule and watched as a tethered hook dropped down from the chopper. He released his safety harness, rose to his feet, and opened the escape hatch. Climbing on the cockpit seat, he grabbed the hook and attached it to the suit’s harness. He was out of the hatch in a moment, the winch lifting him smoothly through the chute and into the open air. Shane was in the chopper’s cabin in no time.
He pressed the door button and it slid closed. Through the window, he could see the plastic chute on the escape capsule roof shrivel, shrink, and seal. He removed his helmet and hung it on the rack on the back wall of the cabin. The helicopter rose and turned away, leaving Shane with a last glimpse of the Manta Ray approaching the escape capsule, preparing to tow it back to the island.
Although he’d practiced this maneuver many times in the simulator, this was the first time he’d actually done it. Shane was mildly surprised at how well it had gone—perfectly in fact, if he wasn’t mistaken. Still, the knowledge that Alexis and Jamie would be flying solo after today while he had one final hurdle to overcome rankled. The annoyance was not as it would have been only two years before, but it was enough to make him impatient. He was ready to be fully qualified.
His confidence in his execution of the day’s lesson was reflected in his results. He had passed with flying colors. Only the suit escape remained, and Shane signed up for that final exam the moment he was confirmed as passed.
&nbs
p; Chapter 3: Pushing Alexis Aside
Shane noticed the change in Alexis and Jamie immediately. Passing the solo flying test turned their focus from general school and project work to specialized training from the Aerospace Island. Though they were still on the island, they now worked with men who flew the increasing number of space flights in bigger and better space vehicles. Even their own school project—the game that was taking the world by storm and making Alexis and his group fabulously wealthy—no longer had first place in their minds. Shane could not understand such foolishness. It was true that he loved the undersea world, or at least thought he did despite never having experienced the feelings others described as “love,” but he would never let that deflect him from his path the way Alexis and Jamie had.
He also noted that others in Alexis’s group did not share their two leaders’ enthusiasm. Ben, Josh, and Iain were still focused on the here and now, developing the game that had become such a quick worldwide favorite. It had begun to make inroads on Shane’s team’s game and their revenues were flatlining. He saw an opportunity that he could not help but take.
“Alexis,” Shane said, catching him after class one day. “I’ve a proposal I’d like to put to you and your team.” He wasn’t surprised to see the suspicious expression that momentarily crossed Alexis’s face, a wariness of an old rivalry being revived.
“What is it?”
“Your game is doing great,” Shane said. “It seems to me that we—our two teams—could capitalize even more on our success by developing links between the games. Not for players now, of course, but later.”
Alexis frowned. “Sounds to me like you’re afraid of the competition.”
“There’s some of that, of course. But we have to be realistic. There are only so many people and they have only so much time. Sure, as your game grows, our game will lose players. But sooner or later, the two games will have their audiences and things will settle until someone comes up with a new one, and then we’ll both lose players.”
