Drone by Mike Maden Page A

well. In the end, drones were just delivery systems. Energy, medicine, agriculture, and transportation were just a few of the areas being transformed by the advent of autonomous, independent, inexpensive, and reliable vehicles.
    Under normal circumstances, Pearce’s unseen investing partner could’ve expected an excellent return on the cash used to launch the company. But Pearce’s civilian operations had already delivered exceptional returns and promised many, many more for years to come and he was happy to allow others to lead those divisions.
    But Pearce Systems security operations were far more lucrative at themoment—and far more dangerous as well, so he took responsibility for the day-to-day operations of that division. As president of the company, it was his responsibility to ensure that both sides of his house were in order because, in fact, they supported each other, directly and indirectly. He did this by regularly contacting his division heads, just to let them know he was still engaged with them and as passionate as they were about their respective projects. It was an exciting time to be alive, for sure.
    More often than not, though, Pearce felt as if he were riding on the back of a galloping two-headed tiger. There was no telling where all of this might end up—Skynet was just a writer’s nightmare, but was it really so far from the truth anymore? On the other hand, the promise of a technological nirvana seemed just as plausible. Pearce wasn’t sure which of the two mouths would eventually swallow him, but he knew exactly which orifice of the beast he’d eventually be vacating when it was all said and done.
    Pearce shook his head. It was late. His mind was wandering. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and dropped into his favorite chair in the cabin and tapped on his smartphone. Time to check in.
    Dungeness, Kent, United Kingdom
    August Mann stood at the top of the old soaring lighthouse, more than forty meters in the air. Due west was the decommissioned Dungeness A nuclear reactor facility. Due south was the English Channel.
    The view of the surrounding beaches was fantastic, but it was the stout wind frothing the Channel waters far below that had caught his attention. Perfect conditions for kite surfing. His phone rang. It was Pearce. He picked up immediately.
    “Troy. Wie geht’s? ”
    “I’m fine, August. How are you?”
    “I was just thinking about you! San Onofre,” he barked into the phone. The wind gusting through the open window whipped the German’s hair.Ironically, San Onofre also featured a nuclear reactor by the sea, but August was referring to the kite-surfing competition where they first met several years ago.
    “Did you bring your board?” Pearce asked.
    “ Natürlich! Bring yours, we’ll have good fun.”
    “Don’t tempt me. How are those beautiful daughters of yours?”
    August had married three years ago. His wife bore him twin girls a week after the wedding. “Growing fast. I can’t wait to get them out on the water here. Thank you for asking.”
    “So, how’s it going over there? Any problems?”
    “No. Everything is on schedule. We began defueling operations three days ago. The drones have functioned perfectly, as expected,” August said.
    Dungeness A was just one of ten Magnox nuclear reactors that were decommissioned in the United Kingdom and scheduled for eventual demolition. Pearce Systems had won one of the first contracts utilizing tracked drones with manipulator arms and laser cutters to reduce waste materials into smaller pieces without risking human contamination. Mann headed up the nuclear decommissioning project for Pearce Systems. He had been a combat engineer in Germany’s Bundeswehr and had helped develop his nation’s first tracked drones for mine clearing and antipersonnel work. After one tour in Kosovo and another in Iraq, he quit the army to chase the wind. Instead, he found Pearce.
    “No casualties on our end?” Pearce asked.
    “None, of