The success of the synthetic indigo dye was merely the prologue. Adav, now recognized as a pre-teen prodigy, had earned his father's unquestioning support. The family coffers swelled, providing the first substantial capital Adav needed for his grander vision. His eyes were not on dyes; they were on the very sinews of future power.
Steel.
The Codex's [Economic Simulator] module had run countless projections. Without a robust domestic steel industry, India would remain forever dependent, forever vulnerable. Steel was the backbone of industrialization, of infrastructure, of military might. It was the future.
Adav, now eleven, presented his next radical idea to his father: "Father, we must build a steel plant."
Ramnath, still reeling from the indigo miracle, paled. "Steel, Adav? That is the work of giants! The British control every mine, every railway line. How could we, a merchant family, even begin to challenge them?"
"We will not challenge them, Father," Adav said, his voice imbued with a strange, detached certainty. "We will outbuild them. We will outthink them. We will produce steel that is better and cheaper than anything they can import. And we will do it here, in Pune."
The Codex, accessed through his Mind's Eye, displayed a complex schematic overlaid on his vision: a hyper-efficient Bessemer converter, adapted for early 20th-century materials. Adav didn't need to invent a new process; he needed to optimize an existing one with centuries of future knowledge. He focused on nuances: precise air flow for optimal carbon removal, specific heat management techniques to reduce impurities, and the exact ratios of local iron ore and coke based on their mineral compositions. These were minor adjustments in 2047, but revolutionary in 1910.
His father, though hesitant, eventually capitulated to Adav's unwavering conviction. But steel wasn't just about formulas; it was about land, resources, and, most crucially, British licenses. The British, ever wary of native competition, guarded these assets jealously.
Adav, however, had a plan. He had been quietly observing the local British administrators, feeding their habits, their frustrations, and their bureaucratic weaknesses into the Codex's [Social Analysis] module. The module flagged a key figure: Arthur Finch, the District Collector for Public Works, a man known for his meticulous, yet often frustrated, efforts to improve local infrastructure. Finch was currently wrestling with a long-standing, seemingly intractable problem: a series of poorly designed irrigation canals that frequently flooded during monsoons, devastating crops and frustrating the local populace.
Adav approached his father. "Father, I require an introduction to Mr. Finch. I believe I can assist him with his irrigation problem."
Ramnath was aghast. "Adav, that is folly! A child meddling in British affairs? It will bring us only trouble!"
"It will bring us opportunity, Father," Adav countered calmly. "Trust me, as you trusted me with the indigo."
Reluctantly, Ramnath secured a meeting. Finch, a stiff-backed man with a perpetually tired expression, found himself facing a solemn, unnervingly intelligent eleven-year-old boy who spoke impeccable English. Adav didn't gush or flatter. He simply presented a detailed, hand-drawn blueprint of an improved irrigation system, complete with subtle changes to sluice gate designs, reservoir capacities, and diversion channels that would prevent flooding and maximize water distribution. His drawings were annotated with precise calculations of flow rates and stress points, all generated by the Codex.
Finch, initially amused, then intrigued, finally became utterly astonished. The boy's solution was elegant, practical, and solved issues his own British engineers had struggled with for years. It was, quite simply, brilliant.
"How... how did you conceive of this, young man?" Finch stammered, staring at the drawings as if they were alien artifacts.
Adav offered his practiced, enigmatic smile. "I observe, sir. And sometimes, solutions present themselves."
Finch, seeing not a rival but a potential asset, saw only a native genius, a prodigy to be cultivated. He leveraged his goodwill, combined with the family's now considerable wealth from the indigo trade, to acquire the vast tracts of land and the necessary licenses for Adav's proposed steel plant. The established British industrialists, slow to react and confident in their monopoly, dismissed it as a child's folly, or perhaps Finch's unusual patronage of a native. They would soon learn their mistake.