The Inertia of Projections
A government minister, overseeing the decommissioning of ageing nuclear reactors, suspects the infallible AI guiding national policy is dangerously flawed, but finds himself trapped in a sterile boardroom where questioning the machine is political suicide.
TITLE OVER: THE INERTIA OF PROJECTIONS
INT. CABINET OFFICE BOARDROOM - DAY
A sterile, minimalist room. Polished chrome and dark wood. A dozen people sit around a vast, empty table. JUNIOR MINISTERS and CIVIL SERVANTS, faces rapt.
At one end, the pragmatic Treasury Secretary, ELAINA NAROT (50s), beams.
At the other, DR. ANDREW THOMPSON (40s), arrogant and immaculate, gestures to the center of the table.
SOUND: The faint, persistent HUM of server cooling fans from a featureless rack against one wall.
Floating above the table is a HOLOGRAPHIC DISPLAY. It shows an elegant, downward-curving graph. A beautiful promise of savings.
MINISTER ALISTAIR FINDLAY (50s), a former engineer with the weary eyes of a politician, ignores the graph. He watches the faces.
DR. THOMPSON
> As you can see, Minister Findlay, Aegis's latest projection allows for a revised decommissioning schedule that is not only twenty-two percent faster but nearly thirty percent more cost-effective. It has optimised the vitrification process for intermediate-level waste and modelled a container-corrosion scenario that pushes significant expenditure past the next two fiscal decades.
Alistair lets the silence hang for a beat. The others nod, mesmerized.
ALISTAIR
> Impressive, Doctor Thompson. A truly remarkable piece of modelling. I was curious about one input parameter. Could you clarify how Aegis has weighted the variable of neutron-induced embrittlement in the RPV steel?
A flicker of annoyance crosses Thompson’s face. A grubby, real-world detail interrupting his clean data.
DR. THOMPSON
> The system has analysed over seventy years of metallurgical data from every reactor of this class worldwide. The degradation curve is well-established. Aegis projects a structural failure probability of less than point-zero-zero-one percent within the accelerated timeframe.
ALISTAIR
> But that data assumes a consistent neutron flux. The Magnox fleet, as you know, had variable operational histories. Some were run 'hotter' than others in the seventies to meet demand. That isn't in the official digital record. It’s in handwritten station logs, if they even still exist. Does Aegis account for undocumented operational spikes?
DR. THOMPSON
> The system's confidence level in its data set is ninety-nine point eight percent. To suggest that a few scribbled notes from fifty years ago could materially alter these projections is… Luddite, Minister. With respect.
The word hangs in the air. An attack.
CLOSE ON Elaina Narot. She hides a small, satisfied smile.
ALISTAIR
> Respectfully, Doctor, metallurgy is not a matter of confidence, but of chemistry.
Alistair opens his leather portfolio. He slides a single document across the polished table.
It’s a photocopy. Text slightly blurred. The letterhead of the defunct Central Electricity Generating Board is barely visible. The paper itself feels ancient in this room.
ALISTAIR (CONT'D)
> This is the Henshaw report, 1988. An internal inquiry into hairline fractures found at the Trawsfynydd plant. Professor Henshaw concluded that unpredictable embrittlement, linked to inconsistent fuel rod cladding, made any long-term structural prognosis 'speculative at best'. He recommended the immediate relining of all RPVs. A recommendation that was ignored for cost reasons.
Thompson picks up the paper as if it were contaminated. He glances at it, then places it back on the table. A dead thing.
DR. THOMPSON
> An interesting historical document, Minister. However, Aegis has had access to the Trawsfynydd core data. It integrated those fracture reports into its model. The conclusion remains unchanged. Henshaw's 'speculation' was, it seems, overly cautious.
A perfect, seamless defense. Alistair’s weapon is neutralized.
Elaina seizes the moment, her voice smooth and reasonable.
ELAINA
> Alistair, we all appreciate your diligence. Your attention to historical detail is… thorough. But we are here to make forward-looking policy. Aegis offers us a path to resolving our nuclear legacy responsibly and efficiently. To be delayed by what amounts to archival footnotes seems counterproductive.
Murmurs of agreement ripple around the table. The matter is settled.
Alistair looks at the faces. Eleven people, all staring at him. He is utterly alone. He gathers his papers, the Henshaw report on top.
ALISTAIR
> Very well. Thank you, Doctor Thompson, for the clarification. The projections are… most encouraging.
He meets Elaina's gaze. Her smile is triumphant. She thinks she’s won.
Alistair stands and walks towards the door. He pauses, his eyes drawn to the Aegis server rack. A monolithic slab, humming quietly to itself.
It holds all the answers. And he knows, with a cold dread in the pit of his stomach, they are all the wrong ones.
He exits, closing the door softly behind him.
FADE TO BLACK.
INT. CABINET OFFICE BOARDROOM - DAY
A sterile, minimalist room. Polished chrome and dark wood. A dozen people sit around a vast, empty table. JUNIOR MINISTERS and CIVIL SERVANTS, faces rapt.
At one end, the pragmatic Treasury Secretary, ELAINA NAROT (50s), beams.
At the other, DR. ANDREW THOMPSON (40s), arrogant and immaculate, gestures to the center of the table.
SOUND: The faint, persistent HUM of server cooling fans from a featureless rack against one wall.
Floating above the table is a HOLOGRAPHIC DISPLAY. It shows an elegant, downward-curving graph. A beautiful promise of savings.
MINISTER ALISTAIR FINDLAY (50s), a former engineer with the weary eyes of a politician, ignores the graph. He watches the faces.
DR. THOMPSON
> As you can see, Minister Findlay, Aegis's latest projection allows for a revised decommissioning schedule that is not only twenty-two percent faster but nearly thirty percent more cost-effective. It has optimised the vitrification process for intermediate-level waste and modelled a container-corrosion scenario that pushes significant expenditure past the next two fiscal decades.
Alistair lets the silence hang for a beat. The others nod, mesmerized.
ALISTAIR
> Impressive, Doctor Thompson. A truly remarkable piece of modelling. I was curious about one input parameter. Could you clarify how Aegis has weighted the variable of neutron-induced embrittlement in the RPV steel?
A flicker of annoyance crosses Thompson’s face. A grubby, real-world detail interrupting his clean data.
DR. THOMPSON
> The system has analysed over seventy years of metallurgical data from every reactor of this class worldwide. The degradation curve is well-established. Aegis projects a structural failure probability of less than point-zero-zero-one percent within the accelerated timeframe.
ALISTAIR
> But that data assumes a consistent neutron flux. The Magnox fleet, as you know, had variable operational histories. Some were run 'hotter' than others in the seventies to meet demand. That isn't in the official digital record. It’s in handwritten station logs, if they even still exist. Does Aegis account for undocumented operational spikes?
DR. THOMPSON
> The system's confidence level in its data set is ninety-nine point eight percent. To suggest that a few scribbled notes from fifty years ago could materially alter these projections is… Luddite, Minister. With respect.
The word hangs in the air. An attack.
CLOSE ON Elaina Narot. She hides a small, satisfied smile.
ALISTAIR
> Respectfully, Doctor, metallurgy is not a matter of confidence, but of chemistry.
Alistair opens his leather portfolio. He slides a single document across the polished table.
It’s a photocopy. Text slightly blurred. The letterhead of the defunct Central Electricity Generating Board is barely visible. The paper itself feels ancient in this room.
ALISTAIR (CONT'D)
> This is the Henshaw report, 1988. An internal inquiry into hairline fractures found at the Trawsfynydd plant. Professor Henshaw concluded that unpredictable embrittlement, linked to inconsistent fuel rod cladding, made any long-term structural prognosis 'speculative at best'. He recommended the immediate relining of all RPVs. A recommendation that was ignored for cost reasons.
Thompson picks up the paper as if it were contaminated. He glances at it, then places it back on the table. A dead thing.
DR. THOMPSON
> An interesting historical document, Minister. However, Aegis has had access to the Trawsfynydd core data. It integrated those fracture reports into its model. The conclusion remains unchanged. Henshaw's 'speculation' was, it seems, overly cautious.
A perfect, seamless defense. Alistair’s weapon is neutralized.
Elaina seizes the moment, her voice smooth and reasonable.
ELAINA
> Alistair, we all appreciate your diligence. Your attention to historical detail is… thorough. But we are here to make forward-looking policy. Aegis offers us a path to resolving our nuclear legacy responsibly and efficiently. To be delayed by what amounts to archival footnotes seems counterproductive.
Murmurs of agreement ripple around the table. The matter is settled.
Alistair looks at the faces. Eleven people, all staring at him. He is utterly alone. He gathers his papers, the Henshaw report on top.
ALISTAIR
> Very well. Thank you, Doctor Thompson, for the clarification. The projections are… most encouraging.
He meets Elaina's gaze. Her smile is triumphant. She thinks she’s won.
Alistair stands and walks towards the door. He pauses, his eyes drawn to the Aegis server rack. A monolithic slab, humming quietly to itself.
It holds all the answers. And he knows, with a cold dread in the pit of his stomach, they are all the wrong ones.
He exits, closing the door softly behind him.
FADE TO BLACK.