"I've never been so disappointed in my own country's lack of spine," thought Friedrich sourly as he read the documents that he had received from the German government.
Following the instability in Eastern Europe, and in response to an energy crisis developing due to NATO's sanctions on Russia, the German government had announced an ambitious plan to upgrade and restart their nuclear energy program, and Albrecht Nuclear Systems, Friedrich's company, had been one of the main contractors for the project.
He had fiercely outbid American and French nuclear energy companies for the contract, and he had used his personal fortunes to offset the meager 25 billion Euro budget that the German government had allocated for rebuilding 10 nuclear power plants, in order to carry the project to completion.
Aaron's mining robot which he had grabbed as a "Hail Mary" to smash the mining unions that were holding up the fuel production for the project, had come just in the nick of time. Over the past four years, Friedrich had managed to single-handedly pull Germany's energy sector out of the crisis and into multi-billion Euro profits for both him and Germany's various high-tech industries - despite severe public backlash and protests from Germany's Green Party and the environmentalist movement.
However, over the past 24 hours, all that effort had been destroyed with the stroke of a pen.
The new German government, caving to both public pressure and NATO concerns about the potential for Albrecht Nuclear Systems' fast breeding liquid metal reactors to build a nuclear weapons program, had just ordered the immediate shutdown of all nuclear power plants.
In typical bureaucratic fashion, the shutdown was carried out not by the trained personnel at Albrecht Nuclear Systems, but by department of energy officials, who followed the emergency shutdown procedures that turned the lead-bismuth eutectic cooled reactors into solid lead tombs, trapping both the unspent fuel and the radioactive waste inside.
The reactors were radiation safe, thanks to the lead, but they would never be able to be restarted, and the power plants could not be safely decommissioned without the government spending billions to safely crack open and dismantle the reactor structures.
To add insult to injury, the government had also informed him that they would be revoking all his permits and licenses, effectively killing his company, and the news already had reached his employees who were demanding severance packages as they resigned in droves.
Tossing the documents aside, Friedrich fired up his computer, and launched the secure video call application.
"Mr. Saladin, I ask for asylum in your country. I have been betrayed by my own government, and I can no longer trust them," he said, fighting back tears of rage and betrayal.
Saladin smiled sympathetically. "Of course, Friedrich. You are more than welcome here. Libya's doors are open to both you and your employees," he said warmly.
"Thank you, Saladin. I shall make preparations to move myself and my employees to Libya immediately," replied Friedrich, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.
He ended the call, and buzzed his intercom. "Have all employees report to the main auditorium in one hour. I have an important announcement to make," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
---
"Effective immediately, Albrecht Nuclear Systems is ceasing all operations in Germany, and is relocating to Libya. Anyone who wishes to continue working with me, and with Albrecht Nuclear Systems, will be given free transportation to Libya, but I will need your conformation within 24 hours. For those who choose to stay here in Germany, I will provide severance packages, and wish you well in your future endeavors. That is all," announced Friedrich to the assembled employees.
Without waiting for a reaction, he left the stage and returned to his office.
"Do you think many will come, Uncle?" asked Axel, as Friedrich sat down heavily in his chair.
"This chain of events has shattered my confidence in my own countrymen. I expect that they will flee like rats from a sinking ship," scoffed Friedrich bitterly.
"Well, you will have at least me to accompany you to Libya, Uncle. I'm afraid my own business has been targeted as well," said Axel, with a bitter chuckle.
Friedrich's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice tense.
Axel tossed a sheaf of documents onto the desk.
"These are the new emissions and safety regulations this spineless government ratified this morning. They mandate full electrification of all new road-going vehicles, as well as GPS and ADAS systems. And they have directed all manufacturers to retrofit existing vehicles. They've basically made Albrecht Automotive's business model of raw high-performance cars with no babysitting smart systems illegal," he said, his voice filled with frustration.
"What about your engineers?" asked Friedrich.
"Those cowards? They fled for Airbus and Eurofighter as soon as the election results came in. Why bother making cars out of titanium when you can make planes?" said Axel with a bitter laugh.
Friedrich frowned thoughtfully. "There is still the question of why the pro-nuclear factions in the government have been silent. Something tells me that this is bigger than just a new administration wanting to look good to its voters," he mused.
"You mean they might have been targeted as well?" asked Axel.
"Most definitely. I wouldn't be surprised if they've all been killed by those filthy jackals in Mossad," growled Friedrich.
"Very well, Uncle. Then let's get ready to move to Libya. We have a lot of work to do," said Axel, trying to stay positive.
---
"Welcome to Libya, Friedrich. I'm glad you made it here safely," said Saladin, as he greeted Friedrich and Axel at the peer.
They had just disembarked from the Machiavelli, Libya's newest nuclear-powered missile cruiser, to serve as a sister ship to the flagship Aristotle.
Saladin had managed to invoke right of asylum for Friedrich and Axel, and the Machiavelli had been given reluctant permission to dock at Wilhelmshaven, Germany, to pick them up and bring them to Libya.
"I wish I was able to do more than just flee Germany like some cowardly dog, but be rest assured that Albrecht Nuclear Systems depends on me, and not those snivelers who abandoned me," said Friedrich, a steely fire in his eyes.
"Of that I have no doubt, Friedrich. After all I did my own homework before I approached your company with my initial proposal. I know that you are the brains behind all your reactor designs," chuckled Saladin.
Friedrich rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "And here I thought it was because of my political leanings," he said with a wry smile.
"Your antisemitism was just a bonus. I wanted to partner with engineer-entrepreneurs, not bean-counters. I told you that when you turned down my offer," said Saladin with a chuckle.
Friedrich cleared his throat. "Well, thanks to you lending the Machiavelli, I was able to bring most of my hard assets with me. Tell me where I can set up my offices and factories, and then we can look for engineers and technicians to hire," he said, eager to get back to work.
"The same goes for me, Premier Saladin. I'm sure you will find my cars worthy of your roads," said Axel, bowing slightly.
---
"Is it me? Or has humanity's intelligence really declined over the past few decades?" grumbled Friedrich, as he sifted through the stack of test papers that his potential new employees had submitted.
These were supposed to be university students and recent graduates from Libya's engineering colleges, but they wouldn't have been able to clear the Gymnasium in Germany.
"Then again Germany is declining as well," mused Friedrich, as he recalled the recent news of the German government lowering the testing requirements for the Abitur, and even dropping more complex topics from the Gymnasium curriculum, in order to boost the number of students who could graduate and go to university.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"You've noticed it too, haven't you?" said Saladin, entering the office.
Friedrich made to rise, but Saladin waved him down with an impatient gesture.
"No need to stand on ceremony, Friedrich. We're friends, and equals, regardless of soil," said Saladin, taking a seat across from him.
Friedrich sat back down with a rueful chuckle.
"I guess being hounded out of Germany has affected me more than I thought," he said.
"Coming back to what you've observed. I know full well the intellectual stock of my people. How I was graced with the intellect that I have, only Allah knows.As I built my following, I was able to select subordinates with at least some modicum of intelligence, which is why I was successful in my endeavors to unite Libya. However, the process did reveal a certain disturbing trend of declining cognitive ability in the general population," said Saladin.
"What do you think is happening? Is it a social problem?" asked Friedrich.
"Whatever it is, it is not a natural phenomenon," said Saladin.
"What can we do about it? I can't build a nuclear reactor with a bunch of imbeciles," said Friedrich, exasperated.
"Targeted education and cognitive exercises seem to mitigate it somewhat, but the intellectual floor cannot be raised beyond a certain point," said Saladin.
"I guess that will have to do for now. Fine. We'll do it the hard way. Bootcamp first, then put them to work on the operations procedures. Thank God we've got fully automated assembly lines, otherwise we would be in real trouble," said Friedrich, trying to stay positive.
"It's not all doom and gloom, Friedrich. I've instituted mandatory IQ testing in all of Libya's schools, the next generation seems to be faring better than the current one," said Saladin with a hopeful smile.
"Well, then lets hope we get them before our lifespans are up," said Friedrich with a chuckle.
"Onto more pressing matters, Friedrich. I want you to build me nuclear warheads for both the Aristotle and Machiavelli, and I need them fast. My oil clients are dropping my contracts left and right, and I'm unable to get any kind of air traffic except to and from Russia. It appears that I am being ghosted by the rest of the world," said Saladin.
"If you'd asked me that even last year, I would have refused you outright. But now? Why the hell not?" said Friedrich with a wry smile.
---
"Axel, as much as you want to build cars, I have an order of tanks for you. Would you be able to build them?" asked Saladin, as Axel entered his office.
"I don't have much experience with weapons systems, but I'm certainly up for the challenge, Premier," replied Axel.
Saladin, placed a secure video call to Aaron. "Aaron, Axel has agreed to build tanks for me. Would you be so kind as to help him with the weapon systems?" he asked.
"So we are going to fully commit to this are we?" asked Aaron.
"Yes we are, dear boy. Fortresses help, but sometimes we need to go on the offensive. Our lunar supply chain plan needs more time and materials that we need to get from the other markets. Especially for me. Oil is still my main source of revenue, and I cannot sell that to Russia," said Saladin.
"All right. Axel, I'll send you the schematics for the weapon systems. Shipping finished products is far too risky, so you'll have to build them with whatever resources Saladin can get you in Libya," said Aaron.
"Understood, Herr Zakhrov. I'll start on the tank chassis designs right away," said Axel.
"Aaron, if worse comes to worst, I'll have to strike a US city or two to get them to take us seriously. So be prepared for that possibility," said Saladin.
"I understand, Saladin. I'm confident in my Sirius Zone's ability to intercept a nuke from the Aristotle, so have at it," said Aaron.
"I don't know if I should be amused or concerned about that. I'll try the usual channels for as long as I can, so let's pray that there are at least some people in the US government with a functioning brain," said Saladin, cutting the call.
---
"Father Joseph, to what do I owe the pleasure?" asked Aaron, as Fr. Joseph shuffled into his office.
"Mr. Zakhrov, we have a major problem. Our admissions criteria for St. Ignatius Academy is not bringing in enough students to offset our operating costs. We need to find a way to boost enrollment, or we will have to shut down the school," said Fr. Joseph, looking worried.
"How so? I'm sure the criteria is not all that strict," said Aaron.
"Apparently it is. We've got kids scoring only 65 out of the required 70 on the entrance exam. Not one of them seems to be able to score any higher than that. When you were taking the test, we had at least 100 students who scored 70 and above. Worse, over 95% of the kids just spew garbage on the test paper. A few outliers can be chalked up to teenage rebelliousness, but this seems to be systemic" said Fr. Joseph.
"Hmm. OK, what about starting a prep course for the entrance exam? Perhaps it is a failing of the public education system," said Aaron.
"That would work, but it will be another money pit," said Fr. Joseph.
"I can afford the hit. Let's implement it, and get those kids a quality education. I don't want the fate of the Sirius Zone to be left to a bunch of imbeciles," said Aaron, determined to do something about the problem.
---
"This is worse than I thought, Aaron. We're dealing with a case of full-blown mass indoctrination!" growled Fr. Joseph, as he stormed into Aaron's office, waving a sheaf of documents in his hand.
"Indoctrination?" asked Aaron, looking up from his work.
"Yes, indoctrination! The public schools have been pumping out complete bullshit about gender and sexuality with barely any focus on core subjects like math and sciences! Even those have been distorted by that agenda! Say what you will about the Church pushing religious indoctrination, but at least we've been teaching kids how to read, count and even form their own damn opinions! Now they're just being brainwashed with this garbage!" said Fr. Joseph, his voice rising with rage.
"All right, calm down, Father. Looks like we'll have to expand St. Ignatius Academy to include kindergarten and primary school levels, in order to give these kids a proper education from the start. I'll make the necessary arrangements to get it set up," said Aaron.
He buzzed his intercom. "Harry, we need to expand St. Ignatius Academy to include a kindergarten and primary school. Can we do that on the existing campus, or do we need to acquire more land?" he asked.
"Sure, I can make it work on the existing campus. I'll have my team start working on the plans right away," said Harry.
Aaron, switched the intercom channel. "Dad, you know any retired teachers who might be interested in teaching grades k-9? We're expanding St. Ignatius Academy," he asked.
"Sure, I'll ask around," replied Ivan.
"All right Father Joseph, hammer out a curriculum for the new grades. We open the admissions for the new academic year. In the meantime, I suggest you use instruct the prep-course teachers to use any and all means to re-educate the current students," said Aaron., to an awestruck Fr. Joseph.
---
"I'm Adolf Von Eisenhart, head of campus security, and your worst nightmare. The first and last words out of your mouth will be 'Sir'. Do you numbskulls understand me?" barked Adolf, as he surveyed the terrified students of the St. Ignatius prep-course batch.
"I-I don't feel safe right now," stammered a girl with short-cropped pink hair, and a face riddled with acne scars.
"You can get to your little safe space and cry about the mean German white man making you do sums later! Right now, you're all in math bootcamp! You see that crate of blocks over there? You've got sixty seconds to sort them out by the numbers on them, and each screw-up will earn you an hour in the detention cell! No phones, no internet! Just you and four blank walls! Now hop to it!" shouted Adolf, as he pointed to a crate of blocks with numbers on them.
Half the students scrambled to the crate, the other half just stood and folded their arms, looking at Adolf with defiance.
"Tough guy act, huh? Well, see your asses in 24 hours," scoffed Adolf, and campus security guards dragged the now screaming and crying students to the detention cells.
"I can't believe these kids are 14! They're worse than a bunch of toddlers!" muttered Adolf, as he watched the remaining students stumble and sort the blocks in completely haphazard orders, with no regard for the numbers on them.
He flicked open his radio. "Any luck with the chemistry bootcamp?" he asked.
"Negative, sir. They're unable to even identify the elements on the periodic table, let alone balance chemical equations," replied a security guard.
"What the hell were they teaching them in the 8th grade?" asked Adolf, incredulous.
"Sir, their English comprehension is age appropriate, but they seem to just prefer word salad over structured literature," reported another guard.
"Yeah, well, let's hope that at least some of them are faking incompetence. I'm not sure how to deal with this level of ineptitude," grumbled Adolf, as he surveyed the piles of blocks.
Some students had made what appeared to be phone numbers, while others looked like credit card numbers, but fortunately, four students had actually sorted the blocks in the correct order.
"You four, on to session two! The rest of you, detention!" thundered Adolf, as the guards dragged the sobbing students to the detention cells.
---
"Well, Aaron. It appears that the situation isn't a total lost cause. Those kids can perform high-level math and even science, but that ability has been buried under layers of cultural indoctrination and conditioning. Mr. Von Eisenhart's bootcamp methods seem to be working," said Fr. Joseph, as he sat across from Aaron in his office.
Aaron let out a sigh of relief.
"I was seriously worried that we were in a full-blown crisis, but it looks like it is just a case of indoctrination. All right Father, let's keep up the work. By the time those kids get into St. Ignatius, we should have them with enough of a discipline to be able to handle the rigorous curriculum," he said.
"That feeling is mutual. However, we now have a parent crisis on our hands. They are not very happy with our methods," sighed Fr. Joseph.
Aaron's eyes narrowed. "How many of these problem students are from the Sirius Zone?" he asked.
"None of them. The Sirius Zone has kids, but they're all under 12. The prep-course batch are from the surrounding neighborhoods. The parents are rich, but they're all a bunch of progressives themselves, so they're not happy with the bootcamp methods. They're threatening to pull their kids out of the prep-course, and even St. Ignatius itself if we don't change our methods," said Fr. Joseph.
"Well played, Fr. Joseph. You thought I would have just told you to wait for the Sirius Zone kids to become eligible for the entrance exam, instead of trying to rescue the kids from their vermin parents. You didn't have to resort to that deception," said Aaron softly.
Fr. Joseph gulped, but held his ground. "That deception was necessary, Mr. Zakhrov. I could not gamble on your empathy for those kids. I hope you understand that now," he said, his voice trembling.
Aaron gave him a grin.
"I knew you were trying to do that from the start, Father. I had a feeling that you were not going to let innocent kids suffer for their parents' sins. So I played along with your little ruse. I'm happy that the initiative worked. As for the fallout with the parents, I'm authorizing you to waive their tuition fees, and allow them to repay it at zero interest when they enter the workforce. A little inspiration from you, and I hope that the kids will stay in the program," said Aaron.
Fr. Joseph struggled to hold back tears of relief and gratitude.
"Thank you, Mr. Zakhrov. I will do my best to make sure that those kids get the education they deserve," he said, his voice choked with emotion.
