Excolopolis_Poles of Enforcement

by Jack L. Marsch

  “All right.”

  “Can we take a look inside as well?” asked he looking at the building.

  “Yes, of course. We'll certainly take a look at your office too.” Smiled Karen.

  The secluded sector

  The reality of ASEC's global presence was colored by misty obscurity and amazement mixed with awe. In most cases, only speculation on the circumstances of its operation came to light, as not a single person who worked there was permitted to make a press statement or say anything, even to their friends and family, about it. The security of the place was ranked amongst the highest in the world.

  Protection against unauthorized access – in addition to the robot squads that were deployed throughout the area – was the responsibility of the newly created ‘Immediate Reaction Defense’ units, which responded immediately in the case of any attacks or breaches of security at the ASEC center, including any information leaks that might infringe on their operational integrity. The IRD had the latest in high tech tools for covert observation and were required to carry out their operations absolutely undetected. They did not exert pressure on anyone, neither did they disturb day to day lives. Their team leader was former infantry commander Murinko who, in his army career, had mostly led military reconnaissance squads. What had made him famous in military circles was the incredibly high expectations that he had of his men and that, at the same time, his forces never seemed to suffer additional losses during missions he led.

  Sean Steersman took potential dangers – that could lead to disruption in the function of the organization – more and more seriously. He had had no tangible reasons thus far to do so, but the news that kept coming in was painting a disturbing picture of the unsettling events that were beginning to unfold.

  In the center's second manufacturing plant, an ongoing work took place in the shadow of these ominous signs. The restricted area that was accessible through the western corridor was considered to be off limits, even within the ASEC. The area was not to be approached by anyone, even those otherwise considered to be in the highest circles of security.

  Steersman had initiated only one person into his confidence, the one person that he somehow considered to be the soul of the organization and whose trust he did not wish to compromise by keeping secrets; and that person was Karen. He wanted her to understand why it was all happening. For the first time, he decided to take her with him and show her everything that they had discussed. Karen accepted all that he told her, but still managed to gently weave her doubts into her questions.

  “This cannot stay hidden for ever,” she remarked.

  “It doesn't need to, really. The time hasn't yet come for it to be made public knowledge, though. A sensitive piece of information released at the wrong time can do huge damage, but if released at precisely the right time, it is harmless or could even be beneficial.”

  “This could all cause a whole lot of misunderstandings. Until decide its time to let this out into the open, we have to be incredibly careful,” Karen warned.

  “I have always said that the only safety is in invisibility, as that means it simply doesn't exist in people's minds.”

  “But then why do I need to know about it?”

  “Because I want you to understand what is going on. You're my ‘right-hand man’, so to say. That's why,” said Steersman. “And because everybody looks to you as my deputy.”

  Karen was sure that she would never get a straight answer from him, but she wasn't insulted. She knew that Steersman needed her and that he didn't want to stab her in the back by keeping secrets. He did not want to risk either her trust or her loyalty.

  “I understand that there is a point from which there is no turning back and it's not possible to go ahead at half speed, which doesn't leave us too much choice,” observed Karen.

  “There are dangers that we simply have to prepare for … that's what this is all about, and you are right, we can't solve problems at half speed.”

  The usually dark western corridor was lit by standby lights. Hardly anything was visible around them and the isolated second sector spread out in front of them like a black canvas. After a quick identification procedure the door opened and a blinding light poured out over them.

  As soon as they stepped inside, the door locked behind them.

  Inside, there was the most bizarre noise that combined with an even more bizarre sight. Machinery was working frighteningly fast, as far the eye could see. The machines were constructing unrecognizable parts, not with a conveyer belt or production line system, but in a completely convoluted system.

  “This is ….” Karen stopped. “I don't really know how to put it.”

  She was forced to admit that, at this very moment, it was doubtful that others would understand preparation of such size. All she could think was that this was Pandora's box.

  “Come! I'll show you around,” said Steersman, seeing the confusion on Karen's face.

  “On foot?” she managed to force out, seeing the size of the area.

  A floating machine appeared above them in answer and, in front of them, a circle made of green light suddenly appeared on the ground.

  “Step onto it,” said Steersman, gesturing towards the circle.

  Karen obeyed. Suddenly they started to rise with the green circle, as if gravitation has ceased to exist.

  “It is called a gravitation radius,” explained Steersman, floating in the air. “The DCG spheres can produce a form of focused ray that can lift any solid material or object.”

  “Does such a concept even exist?” said Karen, panicking a little.

  “Well, it didn't till yesterday. We came across this DCG feature by accident. It can be rather easily adapted to many uses. All that's needed is to create a partial vacuum in the air and the rest is taken care of by focusing anti-gravitation under our feet, which effectively means we are standing on air.”

  “Oh,” she said and lifted her feet experimentally. “This is rather weird!”

  “I know, but you'll get used to it.”

  They stepped into the floating machine. Inside there was a spacious bare room paved in ivory white. The floor was made of a soft transparent material that gave the feel of walking on a rubber carpet. From the machine they had a panoramic view of the area below.

  They went into the inner area of the factory. Robots were assembling parts as far as the eye could see.

  “What are they making?” she asked, pointing a little further on to where bigger units were being put together.

  “Airplanes, without wings. Hopefully Gibbs and his team will soon find a way to control these aircraft at higher altitudes.”

  “What, you mean in space too?”

  “No. We can't use the DCG spheres in space. There is far less anti-gravitation effect in space than near planets.”

  “How can you make these machines work this way?” Karen had million of questions racing around her mind.

  “I ask them.”

  “Ask them? What …? How?” She asked uncertainly.

  “As a matter of fact, they are able to do anything with what they have available to them. Information, tools or resources.”

  “Do they have artificial intelligence then?”

  “Yes and no. They are capable of solving problems and are able to make quick decisions to find the best possible and most responsible solution, but they don't have memory as we know it, and they can't see the bigger picture. That means they have no real power of free will. On the other hand, they complete every task that is given to them, independently and without fail.”

  “So, it is not possible that they might turn against us?” asked Karen, but as soon as she did she felt that it was a silly question.

  Steersman smiled. Karen has seen too many films about robots going mad.

  “No, they won't,” he answered.

  Through the panorama floor, newer and newer monster machines came into view. It was possible to see that they were mainly working on vehicles that were to be designated for
flying.

  “I have another question, Sean.”

  “What is it?”

  “Is it all really that bad?” Karen stared into his face.

  He sighed. He had been waiting for that question, and he had long since decided to answer it by clearly describing a picture of the situation.

  “It could certainly be said that in addition to development, there is an emerging crisis in the cause of which we have not been entirely innocent. In fact, we have created technical advances and released them into the global markets at a speed that the markets are rapidly becoming unable to keep pace with. It may be a slight exaggeration, but it's like we have gone into the Middle Ages and introduced a tractor to compete with a horse and plow, which would then have caused a crop surplus beating all competition. Now we have a free market where those who rapidly adapt or have more sophisticated technology win, but the price of this is always paid by the loser. In this case, the losers are too strong and have too much power. That means that we could be in big trouble.”

  “But the people will win.”

  “Yes, but it's not them that rule the world.”

  Karen went quiet. She couldn't image what Steersman was so afraid of. Crises had always existed and governments had always handled them.

  “All we have to do is make sure that we are not defenseless and that if it comes to a fight, we are able to stand up and protect ourselves.”

  “And for that, we only need this … what's it called? Gravitation radius?” Karen asked.

  “No, I don't think so, though we don't need to produce a weapon so lethal that it acts as a deterrent to anyone who might wish to incapacitate us, if that's what you mean.”

  “That's what I was thinking.”

  “I think the situation can be solved in more sophisticated ways.”

  Suddenly, Karen realized that she didn't want to ask any more questions. She just looked at the cold dance of the machinery making more and more devices, aircraft, vehicles … and who knows what else.

  ***

  Chapter 10

  They know we are here

  Nearly two hundred and fifty thousand young people wishing to take the entrance exams, and the nearly one thousand members of the professorial faculty were all present at the PrEUST open day, which was promising to be one of the most pleasant days of the year.

  Opening speeches by Professor Kazuma Hashimoto and Sean Steersman contained no surprises and were both solemn and polite, but essentially it was already common knowledge that whoever successfully completed their studies at PrEUST would have no further problems for the rest of their life. The university, for its part, was prepared to do everything to make the students succeed and expected the same in return. The entrance requirements however, were not negligible.

  These words of encouragement to the young candidates were to let them know exactly how to comply with the conditions of entry and how to get into the institution at all. Most student guides were also setting lavish honey traps that – for a young scientist – meant paradise on earth. Essentially, if they had the mental capacity and fulfilled the schools specific requirements, then nothing – during their studies – would cause them problems: the students were to be provided with everything.

  There were two basic, extra curricular expectations placed on students: they had to choose a sport and some kind of art form in which they were expected to also perform outstandingly by the end of each semester. These requirements were set in order to concentrate the activity of different parts of their brains. It was explained to students that a candidate may be exceptionally brilliant in his or her field of endeavor, but if the individual was not capable of humility and self sacrifice for the sake of the team, and was unable to cooperate with others, then that individual was just as useless as if they were completely unskilled. While science teaches patience, sport teaches perseverance and the arts teach a sense of beauty. These were all considered and absolute necessity at PrEUST.

  There was no lack of enthusiasm. In the park groups of students wandered from one stand to the next, each trying to find out more about their own area of aspiration, and at the same time familiarizing themselves with the facilities and technology that was available at the institute.

  One of the groups was lead by Steersman and Hashimoto, together with many other ASEC and PrEUST directors.

  “Mr Steersman!” someone called out unexpectedly. The person was dressed in a white coat, as if he had just stepped straight out of a laboratory. With surprisingly wide shoulders and glasses – though he was rather short, he seemed more of a sportsman than anyone else around them. Steersman looked at him.

  “My name is Ruy Santos Martins. I am a senior astrophysicist at the Brazilian state observatory. My understanding is that you will be teaching astrophysics at this university as well.”

  “Yes, that's right. How can I help you?” asked Steersman.

  “Perhaps you may be interested in what I have to tell you,” answered Martins. “In private though, if I may,” he added carefully.

  “Okay then. Come with me,” agreed Steersman and moved away from the crowd. Surprised, the scientist had to step quickly to keep up with Steersman's much longer stride.

  “What would you like to discuss Mr Martins,” he said briskly.

  “I would like to offer myself and my team to the ASEC,” said Mr Martins, without any hesitation.

  Steersman looked at him again, and his eyebrows drew together in an involuntary frown. “Why? What has happened at your own place of work?”

  “The state has withdrawn funding, but, as a matter of fact, we have never been appreciated for our efforts. The results were mostly handed over to European or American institutions for analysis, to places where experts enjoy greater recognition and the scientific infrastructure is also much stronger.”

  “And what is it that you do exactly?”

  “We are searching for signs of intelligent life on the basis of cosmic radiation anomalies,” answered Martins.

  “I see. Has your research been successful?”

  Martins paused and looked around, then leaning closer he murmured, “I believe so.”

  Steersman stopped suddenly and turned to face him, but was prevented from speaking by a swarm of students-to-be gathering not far from them. Some of the students greeted them and thanked him for the invitation but others wanted to have their photos taken with the great founder.

  “Please call Karen Collela and book an appointment. Tell her that the case number is 505,” Steersman said quickly to the scientist just before the students manage to whisk him away.

  “Thank you, Mr Steersman, I will be in touch!” Martins shouted after him, but he wasn't sure Steersman had heard him as he disappeared into the noisy crowds, so the scientist melted away into the trees until his white coat was no longer visible.

  Oliver Trenerry stepped over to Steersman, his face inscrutable. His words always demonstrated that he never missed any details and had an incredibly quick mind.

  “Who was that?” he asked Steersman.

  “A Brazilian astrophysics research director.”

  “Astrophysics?” he repeated. ”Should Murinko's team check him out?”

  “Yes. Get all the information you can about him by the morning. And watch him until then,” Steersman replied.

  *

  Mr Hashimoto's greatest virtue was the fact that he had always been accessible as a university director. Besides the fact that most of the time he stayed on site at his institution, as he loved to deal with things up-close, he could always be found to discuss whatever problems anyone had, and he was always in direct contact with university staff and students alike.

  Even now, he was visiting lecture theaters and dropping in on public information lectures that were being held by the deans of each faculty. His appearance was welcomed everywhere and he was happy to foster enthusiasm in young people, urging them to do their best and succeed in the entrance exams.

  He also made a point of saying that whoever
completed a PrEUST degree would be untouchable in their professionals, and for the best of the best, there was a direct road into the ASEC. Having said what he had to say, he hurried on to the next engagement in his InCar, the vehicle that was provided for his on-site use.

  Of course, most young people had a serious dilemma in choosing which faculty to apply for, narrowing their choices down from much larger circles of interest.

  “I dunno … I really feel like this isn't for me,” said Jeff flatly, in one of the lecture halls where special areas of mathematical sciences were being presented. He leaned casually back on the back of a comfortably designed chair.

  Pat and Arch looked at each other, having already expected Jeff to say something like that.

  “I'm getting more into decoding, programming, those kinda things,” said Pat.

  “You want to study cryptology for real?” asked Jeff.

  “I haven't decided yet, but there is a good chance.”

  “Let's go to the natural sciences wing in the afternoon to see if there is anything you can find, Jeff.” Archer glanced towards his friend.

  “All right. We have time. When we've picked up all of the admission requirements papers we can get together at our place and figure out what to do. You in, Jeff?” Pat asked.

  “Yeah, let's do it,” he answered in a bored monotone.

  Pat and Arch grinned at each other. If needed, they would bang him on the head and knock some sense into him.

  “It would be cool though if we all went to the same university, wouldn't it?”

  “I suppose so. As I said, let's do it,” Jeff changed seats to one in a higher row. Pat was right. It would be pretty bad if they got separated and couldn't hang out together anymore.

  “Find something for yourself, Jeff. At least the sport will be for free,” encouraged Arch. “It has pretty much everything. It'll be worth you pulling yourself together and getting in here.”