Future Dust | Chapter 1 : Labyrinth
Ken was having a hard time making progress. Obstacle number four on the obstacle course consisted of a net stretched about fifty centimeters above the ground, which could only be crossed by crawling. At that moment, the young man was trying a technique he’d picked up from the fastest cadets, which involved crawling on his side while pushing off with his legs and arms like a spider. Despite this, he was struggling. Lying on the ground of the course, his tall, lanky body did indeed look spider-like, but he wasn’t moving forward—or at least not fast enough for his drill sergeant’s liking. The sergeant snapped at him:
“Get a move on, slug!”
Major Kikuchi rarely minced his words, and the cadets knew it. He had a good heart, though, and the cadets knew that too. They forgave him for his strictness and his constant scolding.
He continued in a more fatherly tone:
“Hurry up, Ken. You won't pass your physical tests if you let the clock run out like that!”
“I know,” Ken mumbled from beneath the net.
The major didn’t hear him. He approached the net and waited for Ken to clear the obstacle so he could whisper a few words to him. When Ken finally emerged from the net, he stopped the stopwatch.
“Listen, I know you’re hard on yourself for failing your first-semester exams, but I don’t want you to lose motivation for the second. I want you to give it your all until the end of the year. We don’t give up halfway through—that’s a rule. Got it?”
Ken sighed. He wasn’t so sure about following that rule anymore, but he replied anyway:
“Got it, Major.”
The major resumed his authoritative tone:
“I want to see more enthusiasm than that, Cadet Fukuhara! Get back on the track before I kick your ass!” he said, restarting the stopwatch.
Ken started running again, struggling to keep up. The other cadets watched him from a distance, waiting their turn in single file. His time ended up being far from impressive.
It was his first year at the Japan National Defense Academy, and things weren’t exactly going as he’d hoped. Ken didn’t feel at ease among the tough guys who made up the majority of the cadets. Despite the Academy’s official recommendations, he hadn’t joined an athletic club. If you wanted to succeed at the Academy, you needed both brains and brawn. Unfortunately, sports were his Achilles’ heel. He felt uncomfortable as a man of action, but much more at ease as a military strategist coordinating large-scale maneuvers or establishing military bases at strategic points around the globe. Reading Sun Tzu’s The Art of War at age 14 had convinced him that his destiny was to become a general and command an army corps. He preferred the infantry over the navy or the air force. Since Japan had unfortunately been at peace since the end of World War II, he would therefore have to settle for defensive maneuvers and peacekeeping operations, but it didn’t matter. He had a dream and wouldn’t give it up. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
Back in the locker room, Ken closed the door of the locker containing his neatly folded fatigues and looked at himself in the mirror built into it. Tall, lanky, with thin round glasses, a slender, “diamond-shaped” face, high cheekbones, a very fine jawline and chin, and black, straight hair perpetually tousled in a strangely charismatic state of chaos, he had all the makings of a bookworm.
“Done with another day,” he thought. “What am I doing here?” The other cadets were silently putting their belongings away in their lockers, in an atmosphere of strict military discipline. He left the locker room.
The rest of the day proceeded according to the Academy’s usual daily schedule: the cadets went to their respective clubs, and the flag was lowered for the night. The cafeteria opened at 6:15 p.m. Roll call was held at 7:35 p.m.
It was 7:45 p.m. when Ken was finally able to make his way back to the dorms where his room was located. He grabbed his suitcase from the top of a closet. He needed to pack his bags, which he did in less than fifteen minutes. The end-of-year break would only last a few days, after all. He would use the time to play Age of Empires, his favorite video game. Not to mention the time he would spend with his family, of course.
A roommate burst into the room. He glanced briefly at the suitcase still lying open on Ken’s bed.
“Hey Fukuhara, what’s with all this luggage? Are you quitting the Academy?”
Ken grimaced. The thought had secretly crossed his mind.
“I'm just getting ready for vacation, Koji.”
“Relax, it was a joke. You looked so shocked!”
Ken didn’t say a word. He simply closed his suitcase and stretched out comfortably on his bed, a book in his hand. Reading had a way of making him forget all his little annoyances. He buried his nose in his book, Isaac Asimov’s The Robots. Although it had been written nearly a century ago, the story retained an undeniable freshness. These robots seemed almost as real to him as the ones he encountered every day. Absorbed in his reading, he paid no attention to his roommates, who were joking around and chatting in an atmosphere of genuine camaraderie. The bell signaling curfew rang, and the chatter quickly died down, giving way to silence. All the lights were turned off. Ken had placed his book under his pillow and fell asleep peacefully.
The next morning, the last bell before the break roused the cadets from their beds. After quickly getting dressed, Ken answered the morning roll call and headed to the cafeteria building for breakfast. After helping himself at the buffet, he sat down at a table with his tray and began to eat.
“Do me a favor, four-eyes, do some push-ups…”
Ken looked up, but the remark wasn’t directed at him. A few feet away in the cafeteria, Takeshi Mizuno was picking on another first-year student who wore glasses. Takeshi was a sophomore and enjoyed bullying the new kids. Over the weeks, Ken had learned to avoid him in the Academy hallways. Right now, his hand was firmly clamped on the young man’s neck, and he was speaking in a sweet, soothing tone, trying to intimidate him into doing push-ups. Ken chimed in:
“Why don't you find yourself another boyfriend, Takeshi? This one doesn’t swing that way, apparently…”
Takeshi turned to Ken, clearly taken aback by the dig.
“Trying to be a smartass, four-eyes number 2?”
“Four-eyes number 2 just wants you to leave four-eyes number 1 alone,” Ken retorted. “It’s vacation time, and we’ve earned the right to relax in peace after putting up with your childish antics all year, Takeshi.”
Offended, Takeshi said nothing. He simply let go of the younger boy in glasses, shot Ken a contemptuous look, turned on his heel and walked away.
“Thanks,” said the younger guy.
“You’re welcome,” replied Ken, still sitting.
He didn’t dare invite him to sit at his table. The young man didn’t ask either and simply headed toward the back of the cafeteria. Ken went back to eating his breakfast.
All the cadets were on their way to join their families for the end-of-year holidays. The Academy was emptying out as waves of young men and women flooded the nearby Mabori Kaigan Station, which connected the peninsula where the Academy was located to the rest of Japan. Ken had left the military complex and was now dragging his backpack and suitcase through the small station, his eyes scanning the Keikyu Railway information boards. His train was due to arrive in a few minutes. That would give him time to reflect on his school career at the Academy. He sat down on one of the station benches, lost in thought.
A sudden shout behind him caught his attention. Ken turned and glanced over his shoulder. From the street below the station, the sounds of someone running echoed up. His eyes narrowed in focus. On the sidewalk, a man was running away, pursued by two imposing, mechanical-looking figures—two police androids, hot on his heels with the lightning speed of their mechanical muscles. Their movements were precise and formidably efficient compared to the man’s haphazard run. The chase didn’t last long. The first android tackled him to the ground like a rugby player, and the man sprawled out flat on his back, brought to a sudden halt. The scene was pitiful to behold. The man tried to get back up, but he hadn’t counted on the second android, who had now caught up to him. The second android reacted immediately, grabbing the man’s hand and applying an arm lock that sent him crashing back to the ground like a mere puppet. The first android drew the pistol that was carefully stowed in its abdominal compartment and pointed it at the man on the ground.
“Please remain still. A human officer will shortly inform you that you are under arrest.”
The officer in question, a slender young policewoman, came running a few meters away.
Ken turned his head away. The arrival of the train had just interrupted the spectacle. The red, spacious cars pulled up alongside him, and he rushed into one of them. The doors closed, and the train pulled away, heading for Yokohama.
This kind of incident didn’t surprise him. By 2040, robotics had made enormous strides. In Japan, as in many developed countries, humanoid robots had become ubiquitous. In offices, cafés, warehouses, and hospitals, their arms were used to lift heavy loads or perform cleaning tasks. Designed to achieve human-like dexterity, they were just as capable of holding a tool or driving a car as they were capable of performing manual labor: baking bread or pastries, preparing and serving tea, handling utensils… or weapons.
Many police officers had been replaced by these robots, which could serve as guides for lost tourists or as muscle during forceful arrests. Constantly connected to police servers and stationed at strategic locations, they also functioned as surveillance cameras. The models used by the police had multiple white stripes painted on their metal heads and bodies, earning them the nickname “mummies” among the public. In Tokyo alone, official figures listed 20,000 of these machines in the police ranks—almost as many as there were flesh-and-blood officers.
Even the military made up for its lack of new recruits with battalions of military robots—machines that obeyed their superiors’ orders without batting an eye. Although perfectly capable of following even the most complex orders, most of these robots had no personality and minimal conversational abilities. Manufacturers preferred robots that didn’t rock the boat, programming them to refrain from expressing any opinion that might be controversial. The majority of models in circulation didn’t even have faces. This prevented them from falling into an “uncanny valley” that wouldn’t sell well. In short, they were the perfect servants: intelligent, docile, and unassuming. Their role in society sparked heated political debates, to which Ken paid little attention. He didn’t care whether machines would replace humans or not. What was meant to happen would happen—or not.
Back at the family apartment, Ken took his key out, unlocked the door and went inside. The apartment was quiet. His mother and sister probably hadn’t come home yet. He closed the door behind him and took off his shoes, then carried his backpack and suitcase to his room without unpacking them. “I’ll have time for that later”, he thought as he turned on his computer. It was the perfect time for a game of Age of Empires.
In her room, Yui Fukuhara was so focused on her homework that she apparently hadn’t heard her older brother come home. Or, to be more precise, she had heard him, but unlike him, she wasn’t the type to let herself get distracted. Although she was a year younger, she had always been the more mature and disciplined of the two. A good student, she was a member of the high school gymnastics club and never missed a practice. Her analytical mind and eloquence earned her praise from her teachers, and she was counting on those qualities to—perhaps one day, who knows—become a lawyer.
The afternoon was wearing on. It was time to take a break from work. Yui went to the kitchen to grab a snack, and as she passed the entryway, she noticed the shoes that indicated her brother was home. She opened his door and found him sitting at his computer.
“Ken?”
“I’m in the middle of a game, can you come back later?” he replied distractedly, his eyes glued to the screen.
Yui walked over to the keyboard and took the opportunity to press the P key. The game paused as her brother protested:
“Stop it, I was in the middle of a game and…”
“And we haven’t seen each other in three months! Don’t you think saying hi to your sister is more important than playing nonstop?”
“Um… yeah, sorry. Well, it depends”, he mumbled.
“I sure hope you’re sorry!” Yui replied with a smile.
With her, nothing was serious enough to be worth getting upset over.
“Don’t you notice anything different about me?”
“Um… are you shorter than before?”
“No, you idiot! I got a haircut”, she said, shaking her thick, black bob with a flick of her head.
“Oh, right,” he acknowledged. “With your short hair and petite frame, you’ve got a really great Playmobil look,” he said teasingly.
“Grrr! You shameless little runt!” she fumed, pretending to hit him.
The front door flew open, and their mother entered the apartment, her hands loaded with grocery bags.
At 44, Saeko Fukuhara still had a youthful innocence about her. Both a devoted homemaker and the family’s primary breadwinner, she was the heart and soul of the household. Since her children’s father had been gone for a long time, she had had to learn how to keep them in line and raise them on her own. She had, however, been able to count on the invaluable help of her own parents, and had eventually built a harmonious home she wouldn’t have traded for anything in the world.
“My darlings!” she called out. “Help me put these groceries in the fridge.”
Yui poked her head through the doorway into Ken’s room and saw the many shopping bags.
“Is that the food you’re going to prepare for New Year’s?”
“Of course.”
“Great!” she exclaimed, grabbing one of the bags. “We’re going to stuff ourselves!”
The young girl headed toward the kitchen and began putting the groceries away.
“Where’s my dear Ken? In his room?” said Saeko, stepping into her son’s room.
Ken had jumped up from his chair.
“It’s been a while,” she said, hugging him tightly. “How did your semester go? Your exams? You were so evasive on the phone…”
“Oh, it went well, no problems,” he lied. I really need to catch up in the second semester, he thought to himself.
His mother didn’t take the bait.
“Hmm… You look like someone who’s planning to catch up in the second semester,” she said, reading his mind.
“But…”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Get to work,” she said, glancing at his still-closed backpack. “Come on!”
“Okay, I’ll get started,” Ken sighed.
“And don’t forget to finish everything before the end of the year. It’s important to start the new year with a clear mind,” she added cheerfully as she left the room.
Ken found himself alone in his room. The computer was still humming, displaying the game’s pause menu. He leaned toward the mouse and reluctantly clicked the “Quit” option. Summoning all his courage, he reached into his bag for his textbooks and began studying.
The apartment was comfortable and fairly spacious, with enough room for each family member to have their own workspace. Yui and Ken had their own bedrooms. Saeko had a desk where she was currently sitting, putting her own advice into practice as she finished her ongoing work before the New Year. She was a robotics engineer specializing in micro-drones. The field was vast, with applications in industry, agriculture, the environment, and even the military. It was well known that the military possessed stockpiles of micro-drones which, equipped with a few grams of explosives and a facial recognition targeting program, constituted lethal weapons. The drones Saeko was working on had far more peaceful purposes and were used to prevent fires in both forests and cities. She loved her job and was grateful to the company that had hired her. Finding work as a single mother was no easy task.
Dinner time was approaching. Ken closed his textbooks and left his room, his mind still somewhat lost in his lessons. He walked over to the TV in the living room, grabbed the remote, and turned it on mechanically. “…the flour, eggs, and warm milk in a mixing bowl, whisking vigorously. Season with salt and pepper. Add…“ Zap. ”...the trial will take place on Monday. Moving on to tech news: the MirAI artificial intelligence system will be connected to the Internet before the end of the year. One step closer to…” Zap. “…and now it’s time for an hour of music with the current chart of the most-streamed tracks. Number 15: Karate Dynasty - Come Back Home.” Ken slumped onto the couch. It felt good to finally be able to do nothing.
The first few days of vacation flew by. Ken spent most of his time in his room, playing, reading, or watching anime. His mother brought it up over dinner:
“Instead of locking yourself in your room, why don’t you take advantage of the vacation to go out with us?”
“Oh, um… yeah, sure!” he stammered. The idea hadn’t even crossed his mind.
The next day, they went to the amusement park. The sky was clear in the early afternoon, and the Ferris wheel towered over Yokohama Bay from a height of over a hundred meters. Admission to the park was free, but to ride the attractions, they had to buy a ticket booklet, which they did after waiting in a short line and spending a few thousand yen. The visit could finally begin. Yui immediately wanted to ride the most intense roller coasters, so as to, she said, “maximize the fun.” After a brief discussion, they agreed that the best way to maximize the fun was to start with moderately intense rides. They tried the flying chairs, the big splash, and other rides whose intensity increased as they went along. After riding the most dizzying roller coasters, they decided to try the rides that stayed close to the ground. The afternoon was already well underway when they entered the hall of mirrors.
Ken was still handing his ticket to the usher when his sister strode purposefully into the palace. He quickened his pace and followed her inside through the narrow corridor lined with transparent glass.
“Yui? Where are you?” he called out.
His sister was out of sight. The palace walls had closed in on him, and he was sinking deeper and deeper into the maze, which had grown strangely silent. He could, however, make out the distant cacophony of the park, muffled as if by cotton. There was no one else in the palace.
Ken was no longer sure of his way. It seemed to him that he had already taken that turn earlier. He wondered if he wasn’t going in circles and began to curse his failing sense of direction. He felt like a lab rat trapped in an inextricable maze. A piece of advice suddenly came to mind:
“To get out of a maze for sure, you must always keep your hand on a wall…” he murmured to himself.
It was worth a try. He reached out with his right hand and, running it along the Plexiglas walls, continued on his way. The ploy worked, and after a few minutes, the exit appeared right in front of him. He let out a sigh of relief and rushed down the final hallway. Big mistake. He hadn’t seen the glass partition placed there to force visitors to take one last detour. His head slammed against the wall, and he was knocked back a good meter by the impact. Yui, who had been waiting at the exit for a few minutes, poked her head through the doorway:
“What’s that noise? It sounded like a whale crashing into a window…” she said mischievously.
“That’s not funny!” exclaimed Ken, rubbing his forehead.
He joined his sister at the exit of the maze.
“You took your time”, she remarked.
“It’s not my fault this maze is so hard”, he grumbled.
“Don’t take it the wrong way. I was just stating a fact”, she said calmly. “Well, we should find Mom; last I heard, she’d gone to get some food.”
They set out to find their mother. They quickly spotted her in line at the food stand. Behind the narrow counter, the saleswoman was busy taking orders and supervising three robot chefs. Although they lacked a face, the androids handled the ingredients and utensils with perfect precision. After buying a few ice creams, they all sat down together at a table to enjoy a well-deserved snack. They tried a few more rides and then headed home, still feeling a bit euphoric from the afternoon they’d spent.
The year 2040 was drawing to a close, and Ken’s family was celebrating it as they should. They spent New Year’s Eve with Ken and Yui’s maternal grandfather, who lived in a lovely house in the countryside. Saeko had prepared plenty of rice cakes, which they devoured with relish. After the meal, Grandpa took advantage of a moment when they were alone to speak to Ken:
“How are your studies going, son?”
“Fine, Grandpa”, Ken lied.
“You know, I’ve known you since you were a little boy, and I never really saw you becoming a soldier. I have to admit that your choice of career surprised me when you told us about it. But then again, I suppose you didn’t choose it lightly. What do you plan to do in the army? Do you have any idea what your future job will be?”
“I hope to make a career in the Army and climb the ranks to become a general… someday,” Ken replied.
“You hope…” said Grandpa thoughtfully. “Hope keeps us going, certainly. But illusions, they shatter and lead to despair. Are you sure you’re not fooling yourself?”
Ken looked taken aback. The question was asked in all seriousness, and his grandfather was giving him a kind but questioning look.
“No...” he began.
“No? You’re not sure?”
“…Yes, I mean, I’m sure”, stammered Ken. “I’m under no illusions”, he said as confidently as he could.
“I see… It’s also important to know the reasons why we do things. Do you know why you want to become a general?”
Ken thought for a moment. The answer wasn’t obvious.
“Because…” he hesitated. “Because I want to serve my country in the best way possible.”
“You’re a patriot”, his grandfather said sympathetically. “But there are many ways to serve one’s country. It would take a clever person indeed to say which is the best…”
Ken didn’t say a word. Yui had just appeared in the doorway of the living room.
“Mom and I just got back from the garden,” she announced. “What were you two up to while we were gone?”
“Oh, we were talking about your brother’s future career,” Grandpa replied. “He’s very ambitious.”
“He also plays a lot of video games…” Yui retorted mischievously.
“Hey, those video games have their uses,” Ken protested. “They help me… prepare for my future career.”
Yui rolled her eyes.
“Do you really think playing military strategy games will prepare you for a career in the army?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Nothing beats working up a sweat.”
“No”, he conceded, “but it’s still useful. You could do the same, by the way.”
“What, you want me to become a lawyer by playing Ace Attorney?” she snorted.
Their mother chose that moment to enter the room as well, and they paused their conversation. Saeko glanced at them while tapping her watch, a signal that midnight was approaching. It was time to visit the shrine, as Japanese New Year tradition dictated. They all put on their coats and left the house.
They soon arrived at the edge of the forest, where there was a traditional red wooden gate and a flight of steps leading up to the shrine. The surrounding trees gave the place a peaceful atmosphere, broken only by the presence of a few other visitors who had come to celebrate the New Year. The visit was brief. Once they had drawn their fortunes from small pieces of paper, they quickly returned to their grandfather’s house and said goodbye to him before heading home. The New Year had begun.
From : Public Security Intelligence Agency <psia@moj.go.jp>
To : Hiro Fujimori <fujimorihiro@jirai.go.jp>
Date : January 2, 2041 14:15
Subject : ◽️◽️◽️◽️
Dear Director Fujimori,
Our agency is investigating collusion between the company developing artificial intelligence MirAI, and the Chinese cyberwarfare agency ◽️◽️◽️◽️
MirAI allegedly has been trained on cybercrime forums originating from the Dark Web, which constitutes a weapon with the potential to cause harm ◽️◽️◽️◽️
In your capacity as Director of the Japanese Institute for Artificial Intelligence Regulation, we ask that you immediately revoke MirAI’s internet access authorization ◽️◽️◽️◽️
Sincerely,
The Public Security Intelligence Agency