Drone Games (9 page)

“Ah, the kindergarten teacher.” His eyes roamed boldly over her body. “Somehow I thought you’d be younger. I represent Innovation Technologies.”

Linda crossed her legs and pulled her skirt taut. “I represent Decatur High School,” she clarified with a nasty look. They shook hands.

He pulled her face closer. “Forgive me, but I’m so pumped. I insist on a dance after the minor formality of winning.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Your husband won’t mind, will you, Michael? Michael—wake up. Are we boring the king of the flying bugs?

“Are you and your British friends at Cambridge still staying up nights peering into a microscope and counting the wing beats of the hawk moth, or are you now collaborating with those zookeepers at MIT who train rodents to search for earthquake victims? What was that project again? Ratbot?

“You know, working with animals is not that difficult. Neither is flight. Birds have been doing it for years. Flap a wing, and into the air you go.

“Speaking of that, it’s a real shame you came all the way to Rome just to go back with nothing but air. But I suppose you can always say you gave it a good American try.”

Linda had an uncontrollable urge to slap Gerhard, but she feared his cheeks might burst. She fondled a dinner knife. “And what exactly is your entry?”

“My
winning
entry is a concept called ‘FreeNet.’ A completely digitized and paperless society. Free Internet access, monitor screens, and print capability for everyone. We’ve tested a Berlin market for over a year. All paper media is cloud-based. Magazines, newspapers, business and legal documents, advertising, every piece of mail—all digitized. You decide what you wish to read and print. It will transform the world.

“We even sent a team to interview your American postal service. Unfortunately, when they understood FreeNet’s ramifications, things got a little hostile. Innovation always has a winner and loser. And trust me, they would be big losers. The projected cost savings gained by eliminating all the human mail carriers was huge. We haven’t yet extrapolated the benefits to the global environment by saving all those trees.

“A little more practical than a flying bug, isn’t that right, Michael? I’m so pumped.” He lifted a glass. “To FreeNet and the end of junk mail.”

The room’s lighting dimmed.

Robertson cautiously felt his stomach. He’d never won anything in his life except a disappointing white ribbon in a fourth-grade spelling contest.

Perennial . . . p-e-r-e-n-i-a-l.

I’m sorry, son
,
but we needed two Ns
.

Linda squeezed her husband’s hand. “How much is 250,000 euros in US doll—?”

“Shhh,” he interrupted. “That’s bad luck.”

Conversation in the room quieted. Overhead spotlights beamed onto a podium in the center of an elevated stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice boomed in English through the speaker system. The room went silent. “Pirelli Managing Director of Research and Development, Carlo Burno.”

Applause.

Carlo strode to the podium and gently adjusted the microphone. “We’ll begin with a most appropriate quote from someone who helped liberate our country from the Nazis in World War II. ‘For over a thousand years, Roman conquerors returning from the wars enjoyed the honor of a triumph, a tumultuous parade.’ ” He turned to the head table. “On behalf of General George S. Patton and Pirelli International, I welcome you, the modern-day conquerors who have left your own research wars to be with us this evening.

“One of you will indeed enjoy triumph. Not by means of a victory over a traditional enemy, but rather a victory over technology. You are here not by chance but by skill, dedication, and, most important, design. We at Pirelli believe that design excellence must be recognized and rewarded on a world scale.

“As you know, the Pirelli Award favors a diverse scientific culture and is a further testament to research and development, especially when humanity benefits from new ideas and technologies. Our international jury has evaluated over one thousand entries and culled them down to you, a select group of conquerors. I should also mention, while it’s not a guarantee, all six previous winners went on to a certain Scandinavian capital to solidify their achievement in science. But such triumph tends to arrive suddenly with much fanfare and leave just as unexpectedly. Cherish this moment and remember: all glory is fleeting.”

Three giant overhead screens lowered, framing the room.

Carlo turned to a group of nine men seated at a table off-stage to his left. “Has the jury made a selection?”

“We have,” responded Ilya Frigogine, jury coordinator and former Nobel Laureate for Chemistry. He approached the stage and transferred an envelope.

Carlo calmly sipped water from a stemmed goblet before breaking the seal. He took another agonizingly long ten seconds to examine the contents and then placed the envelope onto the podium. He smiled at the head table.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as part of a manned mission to Mars—” Robertson buried his face in his hands “—planned for a future United States NASA endeavor, I present to you a truly wonderful and revolutionary device that can operate beyond the boundaries of atmosphere. One with the ability to both fly and crawl. It is my privilege to announce that this year’s winner of the Pirelli Award for best new technology in any school, college, university, or research center worldwide is . . . the Entomopter drone, created by Professor Michael Robertson and his team from the Georgia Institute of Technology, USA.”

The room erupted. Guests rose to their feet. Media cameras whirred as the overhead screens showed animation video of two mechanical creatures fluttering above a terrain rover that was rolling across the Martian landscape. Each creature alternatively set down on a platform on top of the rover and picked up a slender tube before flying off.

Still seated, his skin prickling with excitement, Robertson opened his eyes. He never felt Linda shaking his arm and shoulder almost violently.

News correspondents hurried forward.

Temporarily blinded by the spotlights now trained on him, Robertson’s walk to the podium felt dreamlike. Unbelievably, he had completely forgotten about his stomach. Adrenaline was apparently a great antacid.

Carlo presented Robertson with a mahogany plaque fitted with a large gold medallion. After an admiring glance, Robertson set it aside and waved to the crowd appreciatively.

The video screens now showed a field-level view from inside Georgia Tech’s Bobby Dodd football stadium. A pony-tailed technician stood on the midfield grass, extending one arm. The drone appeared and gently set down like some trained mechanical parrot. Bending at the knees, the man heaved it skyward like a falconer. It sailed through the air toward the end zone, passing between the goalposts. Circling back, it deftly perched sideways on one of the uprights.

The audience applause grew to a crescendo.

Robertson produced his glasses and notes. The audience sat.

“Thank you, Carlo. I want to express my appreciation to the members of the jury, the Pirelli family, our Italian hosts, my distinguished colleagues, my wife, Linda, and especially the other finalists and their respective teams who also put forth tremendous effort and resources.”

Robertson cleared his throat and motioned to the overhead screens. “Instead of a football theme, we considered flying into a soccer goal. Unfortunately, insects don’t take too kindly to nets.”

The audience chuckled.

“We scientists tend to lean toward the introverted side of the gregarious scale. People say that I fit somewhere between boring and bullheaded because I tend to make unilateral and sometimes wrong decisions. I respectfully disagree. For example, the last decision I made on behalf of my drone team was to either allow or not allow my research assistants to travel to Italy and attend tonight’s ceremony. I simply determined that most young, single men would prefer to hang out in a campus laboratory rather than cavort through wine-filled Italian taverns with beautiful women and the most gracious people in Europe. I freely admit that I may have been wrong.”

The remark drew a generous laugh.

“It is fitting that our drone is recognized in Europe. The very name
ento
for insect and
mopter
for split-wing originated here. I accept this award on behalf of Georgia Tech and my brilliant, dedicated research team. Before we get into questions, and in keeping with the tradition of this award, I would like to reaffirm my personal and professional commitment to using our drone to benefit humanity. I pray that its ultimate owner—and I certainly hope it’s NASA—will honor that same commitment. Thank you again. I’m humbled and very grateful.”

The audience stood and offered another long ovation.

Robertson had no idea that his drone would generate so much excitement or be accepted so well. For a moment, he regretted not bringing one along and perhaps even flying it over the crowd. But live demonstrations either hit home runs or left poor impressions, especially with new technologies. He had concluded it wasn’t worth the risk. He figured the world would see it up close soon enough.

It was time to begin the Q&A session. He nodded to a youthful correspondent.

“Thank you, Professor Robertson,” the reporter said. “Darren Beel from Reuters. I don’t think many of us have ever seen or heard of your Entomopter drone before. Would you mind giving us a brief rundown on its specifications, capabilities, and significance to a space project?”

“Certainly. As Mr. Burno alluded to in his remarks, it’s all about a planet’s atmosphere, or lack thereof. The Martian airspace at ground level is like Earth’s at 100,000 feet—unstable and extremely difficult to fly through, linearly speaking. Ground rovers are a first step, but they have limitations.

“The most efficient way to explore Mars is from the air. Unfortunately, a conventional fixed-winged aircraft would have to fly 250 miles per hour just to stay airborne. That makes landing, collecting samples, and mapping virtually impossible.

“On the other hand, when insect wings flap through the air, the low-pressure vortex created above the wingtips gives it tremendous lift. Our drone is a multi-mode vehicle with spring-tensioned legs, which means it can be hand-launched, fly slowly over rough terrain, and can literally cling to whatever it lands on. It can collect or deposit samples, recharge, communicate, and even download data before returning to its original launch point. As far as physical design, think of a dragonfly with antennae in two sets of wings—a dragonfly the size of a pigeon. Yes, on the left.”

“Thank you. Judy Chin, China Sun Group. Can your drone walk, and do you plan on offering it for sale in the retail market?”

“It can’t really walk, but the legs can clamp together and hold it in various positions. They can also pick up light objects. The capability is especially useful for grasping, transporting, and releasing things, like tools or rock samples, for instance.” He looked at his notes. “I’m sorry, Judy. What was your other question?”

“Can I buy one?”

“Um, sure . . . assuming we get to that point. I suppose NASA’s not the only one with interest, but there are patent and ownership considerations and, frankly, we haven’t worked all those out. I’d have to get back to you with a better answer. Yes, ma’am.”

“Debra Vaser, Forbes Innovation and Science. Two questions: How is your drone powered? And how much has NASA—I assume it’s NASA—appropriated for program funding, and what effect, if any, does the overall drone controversy on spying have on your project?”

Robertson paused to write. She had actually asked three questions. He couldn’t remember if the budget number was proprietary. “First of all, it’s not really a machine because there’s no stored or combustive power source. Without getting too technical, we developed a liquid propellant that flows to a muscle-chemical reciprocator, or MCR. That’s the drone’s real claim to fame. The MCR consists of two parallel shafts that, when forced by propellant and catalyst gases, push pistons in opposite directions and move both the leg and wing sets. Suffice it to say that it’s not powered by a traditional engine or motor, but rather by a chemical reaction. A reaction that not only allows the wings to flap, but also creates enough electrical energy to power a few sensors. A smartphone-like camera, for instance.

“With respect to the reaction, we combine polynitrogen, which is a hydrocarbon similar to kerosene, and a catalyst. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific about the composition; we do need to keep some trade secrets. I’m certainly not a spokesperson for NASA or the military, but I think it’s simply coincidence that the Institute for Advanced Concepts and other Pentagon agencies like DARPA have invested heavily in their own robotics programs. You really should ask them.”

“Sir, for the record, it says here in the program bio that your full name is Michael Charles Robertson,” a British correspondent spoke up. “Would that be accurate?”

This drew a suspicious frown from Robertson. “Um, yes. But I think they’ve turned some of my work history around.”

“Just to follow up, Professor. I heard that your university considered shipping you off to the military. And seeing that your NASA is a taxpayer-funded body, can you be more specific about similar unmanned drone venues and projects? And was it also a coincidence, sir, that your drone’s claim to fame, this MCR apparatus, carries your initials?”

Robertson smiled slightly, his ego exposed. He knew when he coined the term for the muscle technology that he might pay a price. He spotted the reporter’s ID.
Arrogant BBC
.

“Caltech’s Microbat team built the first battery-powered, flapping wing, micro-aerial vehicle small enough to fit in the palm of your hand,” Robertson said. “Then there’s Berkeley’s micro-mechanical flying insect, a ten-millimeter device capable of autonomous, programmed flight just like true flies.

“For years the Massachusetts Institute of Technology tried to combine the flight mechanics of insects with neurobiology, structural engineering, and aerodynamics. It’s a difficult challenge. Even the most brilliant scientists are learning that it’s one thing to build an airplane and quite another to build a bird.