The Scientific Method

The results are conclusive... and deadly.

In the year 2222, when the world population declined to near extinction, governments in positions of power issued a joint proclamation:

To ensure the preservation of humankind, and furthermore, to evolve our species, scientific endeavors shall no longer be bound by the chains of moral systems.

The time period that followed became known as The Illumination Age. It resulted in the acceleration of human evolution at a rapid rate, propelling civilization into uncharted territory. In their pursuit of higher knowledge, scientists in all fields broadened their research, which came with great personal sacrifice and sometimes disastrous consequences. The public held these new martyrs in the highest regard for their contributions.

Among the most successful scientists of the era, elevated to celebrity status, were two brothers named Felix and Wesley. Their accomplishments were widely recognized, which caused an unhealthy rivalry to develop. Disagreements among factions of their supporters became so intense that they fought with one another in the streets. In order to put an end to the feud the brothers devised a competition.

“Felix, my brother, I propose we settle this with a game of science where a clear winner can be decided by the outcome,” Wesley said.

“What game could we play, as our scientific knowledge quickly outpaces the usefulness of a universal set of rules?” Felix asked.

“We can nurture the abilities of men according to their natural physical limits, choosing the best of biological traits that we believe will ensure victory — then pit them against one another.”

“By natural physical limits, I suspect you mean that tinkering with the ordinary genetic code is out of the question. Two eyes, two arms, two legs and so forth.”

“Yes, then I suppose we should also restrict the use of synthetics. No extra juice. Just what nature intended of our chemistry, albeit a disadvantage these days.”

The brothers agreed to these simple terms and set the competition in motion. When the specimens reached the age of twenty-one, they would be placed in an arena and fight to the death.

Humans were normally incubated in a lab, the gestation period until puberty lasting no more than a month. However, that introduced advancements that violated the rules. The brothers decided to rear the fighters traditionally. This allowed interested parties to plan and execute a grand spectacle over the course of years. The world watched and waited with excitement.

Volunteers from every nation stepped forward as blood donors, who hoped to claim the honor of progenitor to the winner. The newly formed Ministry of Genetics created a massive database that housed the largest public record of genetic code. Citizens built tools to filter out less than desirable traits, and ran prediction algorithms for fun and profit. Enterprising gamblers offered odds based upon simulated outcomes.

Felix chose the DNA from bloodlines that guaranteed the offspring was above average height and strength, and contained no hereditary defects. He resolved to train up a fighter without the distractions of an advanced education. Reading and writing were important for basic communication, but crushing the opponent eclipsed all other instructions.

The man, given the name Agnar, loved no one and received no love in return. Agnar submitted to beatings from sparring partners as his only physical contact, and bruises from his handlers replaced words of affirmation. Felix magnified Agnar’s animalistic urges, an intentional effort to replace human affections with natural instinct.

Kept in caged isolation, Agnar’s disposition bordered on feral, with a seething rage that Felix directed toward a singular purpose and subsequent reward.

“You will have one opportunity to die a slave, or live as a free man,” Felix said. “Only a fool would squander the opportunity to live in an age as great as this.”

Wesley took a different approach. He foraged through DNA strands to find the perfect combination of fitness and intelligence. Instead of breeding a specimen with uncharacteristically high levels of strength, he wanted a fighter who appreciated the art of war through careful study of the adversary. This would assure certain victory.

Even though Wesley knew nothing of Agnar, he understood his brother’s approach to forming a hypothesis. Clumsy and broad, it bordered on reckless abandon. While Felix contributed to numerous discoveries, his lack of discretion humored the brothers’ colleagues. Wesley knew that Felix would train up an impetuous beast using the same tact, so he focused all of his efforts on defeating this style of fighter.

Wesley named his man Hugo and raised him in a loving environment. The greatest minds tutored Hugo and the finest military leaders trained him in hand-to-hand combat. Walking a thin line, Wesley disciplined Hugo like a father, but allowed a loving familiar relationship to grow for his own advantage.

“There is no greater knowledge than knowing one’s own purpose,” Wesley said. “I have given that to you as no other father could. If you love me, there is only one logical outcome to prove it.”

Real estate developers, engineers and artisans all wanted the fame associated with building the arena. They volunteered time and resources, and the project took twelve years to finish. Architects meticulously planned every angle and curve, eager to demonstrate their skills in honor of the greatest event of that day.   

The arena eventually became the world stage — a new Colosseum held in high esteem. Gladiators fought indiscriminately in the old Colosseum as slaves to a system that Romans manipulated. Those fighters all inevitably succumbed to the sword. In the new Colosseum, combatants fought under a system ruled only by the laws of science and an agreement between two brothers. 

Singers, musicians and dancers held hours of theatrics preceding the event. Felix and Wesley gave speeches to commemorate the occasion before being seated on opposite sides of a circular composite floor located in the middle of a well groomed grass field. The nearest spectators sat at the edges of the field and while they were the closest, the action unfolded clearest on the enormous holographic display above the combatants.

The floor, as much a ring, contained no agreed upon boundaries, and no referees officiated since no rules governed the fight. Builders considered materials like stone or dirt, except the floor also served as a platform. Two trapdoors opened beneath it, and Agnar and Hugo elevated into view, followed by an eruption of applause and cheering that lasted several minutes. The public admired the men for the first time.

Agnar rocked back and forth, enraged, and then hunched over, ready to pounce. Hugo stood tall and relaxed, his body lean and muscular. He appeared indifferent to the surroundings. The stark contrast in size and temperament caused audible gasps from the crowd. Spectators watched in nervous anticipation, anxious for the two men to engage in battle, hungry for the carnage to unfold.

A countdown began on the screen from ten, shouted in unison by the crowd. When it hit zero, Felix stood to his feet and shouted with bloodlust, “Tear him apart!”

Agnar, no longer able to contain his energy, screamed and rushed headlong. His feet pounded the floor, the sound amplified by hidden microphones. Wesley predicted the attack correctly and trained Hugo to steady his response with a calculating strike. These citizens waited years to enjoy the event and in seconds it would be over because of Felix’s impatience.

To everyone’s surprise, Hugo stepped aside at the very moment before Agnar could destroy him with a tornado of blows. Agnar continued to rush forward in blissful ignorance. What Wesley soon realized is that ignorance played no part in the movement. Someone planned the execution with care — a scenario Wesley never considered in all of his research. The rush of adrenaline through his body arrived too late to elicit an effective flight response. Agnar tore Wesley’s limbs apart with savage recklessness and inflicted fatal damage in a morbid display.

When the bloodletting stopped, Felix stood up on wobbly legs, tried to gain his composure and nearly fainted. His devastating miscalculation caused the excruciating death of his brother. The crowd fell silent as Hugo walked to the center of the ring and addressed everyone.

“Science is not a game. You can’t wield it like a hammer. It must be given respect for what it can reveal, and it must be feared for its unpredictability. Today we learned as our greatest lesson that it’s not morality that is our chain. We are bound by our own foolish pride.”

After Hugo spoke, he approached Felix, whose eyes grew wide with the realization that no matter his intelligence or acumen, death was inescapable. Agnar disposed of Wesley with reckless fury, but Hugo disposed of Felix with a prolonged elegance that amplified the significance of the action. The game ended.

Agnar and Hugo broke no law as by-products of a science experiment. Society protected and cared for the men the remainder of their lives for their participation. Researchers eventually discovered that Hugo started a secret correspondence with Agnar around age eighteen, convincing him that killing Felix and Wesley produced a more satisfactory outcome. Hugo never doubted the plan’s effectiveness. 

The scientific community kept detailed observations, wrote papers and examined Felix and Wesley’s approaches from the beginning. No real flaw could be found in their conclusions that required replicating the experiment. Humanity moved onto other endeavors.

Hugo and Agnar remained one of the brothers’ greatest contributions to science.