Confirming the knowledge of my dreams through lectures and background reading from the expansive library of the University, came easier and easier. I funnelled my fear of my unnatural ability to pursue academic excellence, impressing professors and fellow students alike.
I had ignored the advice from several deans and the Chancellor about specifying my studies because every branch of science was fun and exciting to learn about. I chose to prioritise lessons on agricultural science, metallurgy, inorganic and organic chemistry, with some taking a backburner but I promised myself that I’d get back to them. This stumped Adam and Edward who thought my lessons had nothing in common with one another, but I’m going to prove them wrong.
Weeks went by as I absorbed knowledge like a feral ghoul feasting on radiation. I was building an unbreakable foundation to which my project will inevitably succeed.
Unfortunately, I encountered an infuriating setback. The module leader for agriculture science was heavily set in her ways. “Ma’am, with due respect, the Garden of Eden Creation Kits is not a solution to all our food problems,” I said demurely, accepting a tip from Frank that nobody likes being lectured by an adolescent who could be their grandson.
Alicent McLafferty wore a constant frown as the folds in her forehead refused to budge. She adjusted her white lab coat emblazoned with the cross of the Followers and promptly sat down. “I’ve read your notes on crop rotation. I must say it’s well written for someone your age. I had trouble believing that it was written by an eight-year-old.” She coughed and cleared her throat creating an unholy sound that I had the misfortune of hearing. “I thought it was a father’s conniving plot to parade their genius son. Perhaps to peddle a snake oil that those unwashed brahmin barons will believe with their limited education.”
Alright, those are fighting words! I’ll not deign to lower myself to her level through inane insults. Mamma raised me better than that! “I do not appreciate anyone insulting my Pappa and his friends. This is wholly inappropriate and unprofessional. You should be ashamed as a professor of this university.” Looks like I ignored Frank’s advice. I couldn’t help it since my soul cried out to smack this granny down, but I had restraint, and I was civilised.
She frowned, obscuring her eyes further by wrinkles, “What do you want? You’re sailing right through my classes. I don’t know how much I can help you.”
“If you knew I was excelling in your classes then why comment on my father?” I couldn’t help but throw another jab. I swear I’ll make her regret accusing Pappa as a fraudster.
“I’ll not repeat myself for the third time. What do you want? The mechanisms of G.E.C.Ks are well known, and you didn’t say anything during my lecture.”
“I didn’t like how you peddled these kits as the only answer to our agricultural needs.”
“What makes you say that?” She leaned her hunched back and smirked ever so slightly.
“GECKs were created to reset the landscape from nuclear fallout by collecting organic compounds and synthesising them to other, more useful, molecules like nitrates and other nutrients to make fertile soil. This creates a healthy environment for plants to grow and provide food.”
“But the soil eventually runs out of nitrates. You’re not the only one who pointed this out, so don’t make yourself feel special. Brighter minds and exceptional people have tackled these problems and over fifty years of experimenting have proven that regular rotation of nitrogen fixers keeps the soil fertile, to allow for crops of greater calories to be grown. In fact, you proved this when you wrote the molecular mechanism for nitrogen fixation.” She took a swig of her fig tea and imperiously looked down on me. “If that is all then, please leave.”
“Wait, I got more. Crop rotation only works for soils exposed to higher precipitation and milder conditions. What if the area is dry and less fertile and can’t be further improved by GECKs?”
“Simple. We don’t farm on them.”
I clicked my tongue which I regretted as the old crone slammed her mug down on her table, making me flinch but pressed on when she said nothing. “Such limited imagination. Imagine making arable lands from the Mojave and the Sonoran Desert. Imagine growing food in Arroyo and northern California during a drought. Droughts are a dreadful tragedy and with my invention can reduce the chances of it happening.”
“I’ll bite, Frederik. What do you have in mind?”
“What if we made nitrates directly from air?”
“Get out.”
“Wait! I got more!”
She held a portable radio and was rapidly dialling, “If you don’t leave in five seconds, I’ll call security.”
That worried me a bit. After watching those former Enclave work against raiders, I would be stupid to be on the receiving end of their wrath. “Nitrogen can be liquefied and extracted from air and hydrogen can be mass produced by reacting methane with steam! React those two together and you get ammonia which can then be synthesised into nitrates! Think about it!” I mimed looking at my wrist. “Well, that’s ten seconds. Have a good day, Ma’am McLafferty.” I slipped her my notes detailing my process – the ‘Frederik Process’.
I didn’t bother looking back but I was convinced I hooked her. She was abrasive as a sanding machine and unpleasant as a brahmin defecating. Despite the unfair hostility I got from her, I needed her for my plans. Her decrepit and slimy tendrils stretched far and to my detriment, she’s highly influential with the School of Agricultural Science and their boundless treasury and resources.
Nearly forty per cent of the NCR’s population are farmers who rely on innovations from universities across the Republic. As a result, many private citizens who are usually well-off and own vast track of lands like my father, give donations to agricultural research. And this is what truly confuses me, the old hag knows I’m the son of an influential farmer who’s known to fund this university, at least I know I do since Pappa secured my place. Yet she knowingly slandered Pappa and made fun of his fellow farmers. She was an accomplished scholar who figured out a dozen mechanisms of the GECK kits yet that was incredibly stupid of her.
If it weren’t for her academic accomplishments, she’d been a radio away from getting fired. My dreams weren’t omniscient, some I had to wrack my brain trying to understand and I suspect it wasn’t the full picture. So, I had come to rely on a few people to make my dreams come to life and one of those people I could see walking across the corridor carrying a few books.
“Edward! What a happy coincidence, I was just looking for you.”
“What do you want, Leon, I’m quite busy.”
“Doing what exactly?” I spied a few books he was carrying with one titled ‘Anthropology 101’. “Anthropology? The study on human civilisation? Interesting.” I beckoned him to follow not allowing him to refuse. “Frank should be in one of the library rooms that I’ve booked. We’ll continue our discussion there.”
“To discuss what?”
“The books you’re carrying. Perhaps I can help you.” He guffawed but I ignored it. “And the task I asked you to carry out.”
“Leon, I -. “
“Save it till we get to the room.” I hummed happily and skipped over to the library passing by the sprawling beauty that was Franklin Canyon. I occasionally looked back at the blonde moping behind me. “Ah, Frank there you are. Have you done what I asked you to do?” Judging from the hickeys on his neck, similar to when Mamma and Pappa are happy, I think he succeeded.
“Well, kid, your pappa owes me extra pay. The synthesis chemists are happy to hear you out. At least the female ones do. I don’t swing the other way.” He flashed me a toothy grin causing me to roll my eyes, not knowing exactly he’s saying.
“Excellent. I don’t want to hear the details but, you’ve done a good job.” I drummed my fingers on the table, “Now, Edward, I’ve tasked you to talk about the feasibility of any containers, steel or otherwise, to withstand two hundred bars of pressure. What did the metallurgy module leader, I forgot his name, say about it?”
“You can’t just join and within weeks order me like your servant!”
“Oh dear, Mr Sallows, I thought you promised to help me.”
“I did! But what do I get in return?” I should’ve expected this. Back when I roped him into my scheme, I only promised one thing and one thing only and he accepted.
“Elimination of boredom. Which is your greatest weakness in pursuing academic greatness.”
“What gives you the right to know things I don’t know, you’re eight!” Frank hummed and nodded his head until I clicked my tongue at him, turning him into a heavily armed statue once again.
And I’m not eight. My dreams are very sure of that, but I can’t exactly tell him that lest he thinks I’m a lunatic. “How many eight-year-olds do you know?”
“Wha- No! I want more than my boredom gone! I want money, power and fame!”
“And you’ll have all three.”
“Exactly and that’s why I’m out.” He paused then fixed me an incredulous look as if he was questioning what I just said, “You’re serious!”
“Of course. But I need assurances that you’ll stick to my plan. You’ve already backed out of the initial deal. How do I know you won’t back out of this?”
“Because you only promised to ‘wipe my boredom away’ in the first place. And I accepted to humour an eight-year-old.”
“Now that this eight-year-old, as you say, has a credible plan of succeeding suddenly you have a change of heart. That’s good. I can work with greed.” I paused and I studied his face for a few seconds. Edward squirmed a bit at the attention but didn’t say anything. “Now, you wouldn’t have followed me without doing what I asked. What’s the feasibility?”
“Professor Mertz assured me the steel rolled in the factories of Necropolis should withstand the pressure. Though, it’ll be expensive. He reckons the steel needs to be at least a foot thick to withstand pressure of two hundred bar.”
“Let me worry about cost. Good very good. Did you give them a copy of the Frederik Process?”
“Yes. They were intrigued and wanted to help. But they won’t be able to provide much since most metals are scavenged and not manufactured. Not a lot of people find metallurgy important.”
“Their loss is our gain. The metallurgists and engineers are essential for my plan since with the advent of the Frederik Process, we’ll need hundreds of tonnes of steel to build factories. Factories that will pump out fertilisers and explosives!”
“Explosives?” Edward quirked his eyes and shot me a suspicious gaze.
Oops. Didn’t mean to air that out loud. “That’s for the future. Well, guess what you’re going to do next?” The blonde deadpanned and remained silent. “You’re no fun. Fine, be that way. I’m asking you to go to Necropolis and haggle as much steel as possible. Don’t worry about the cost.” The gangly blonde stood up, but I motioned for him to sit back down. “Hang on, not right now. I want to discuss your books! Why are you interested in anthropology? Tell me the theories of human development and tell me which one you think applies to us!”
Frank stood up and walked to Edward. He gave him a pat on the shoulder, “Good luck, kid. I’m going outside to have a smoke.”
Edward gulped but answered my questions to the best of his abilities. It took several hours for him to explain the many theories of anthropology, but when he got into what theory he thinks reflects our current way of life; the answer I got was disappointing.
“Primitivism is humans' desire for ‘lost’ origins. Many of our congressmen and fellow citizens are adamant about a return to pre-war America – a lost origin. Thinking as if it’s utopian and good even though it’s not. The jingoism and blind patriotism of those pre-war Americans caused the nuclear war.”
I disagreed but I didn’t want to put him down so instead I probed him for information on his worrying views, “If not a return to the pre-war civilisation, then what does the future entail in your view?”
This seemed to shock Edward who widened his eyes and twirled his fingers before clenching it. “For a son of a greater privilege and status, I thought you’d rebuke me. You and your folks so high up in your ivory tower lobbying the Congress for a return in the past, I thought you would not entertain my ideas.”
“Be careful saying blanket statements they always tend to be incorrect. But do carry on.” I nudged him on in an attempt to prevent envy and jealousy.
“We need a third way. A way that won’t lead to nuclear war, conflict and destitution. I fear with the way the NCR is developing, we’d end up in conflict with our neighbours as we self-impose our righteous civilisation upon them. Similar to the way pre-war America annexed Canada.”
“You propose bringing the torch of knowledge to a bunch of tribals and savages to bring about understanding. Eventually developing into cohesion and co-operation?”
Edward frowned and sullenly looked to the ground, “Don’t call them savages. They’re a product of their harsh environment which breeds hard people. But yes, the tribes of Nevada and Arizona need the extra help so they can stand on their own two feet.”
“Hard people often have harsh cultures. I fear if you help them stand up, they’ll resort to baseless savagery. I fear you’re quite naive.” I then explained to him the stories of the daily struggles of the Stockmen’s Association driving off tribals from rustling cattle and, the brutality Pappa experienced when protecting the caravans from raiders.
“It’ll be my turn to prove you wrong then.” Edward said then gave me a wry grin, “I’m planning to go on an expedition to the Grand Canyon. I’ll be establishing an outpost there and as you say, ‘bringing them the torch of knowledge’. A good saying by the way. It reflects the amazing work the Followers have done for the Wasteland.”
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“That’s a noble goal. I wish you’d thought of it when I recruited you to this scheme of mine.”
His cheeks reddened, “You’re eight! I thought you wanted to play and never in my dreams, you could’ve made a theoretical contraption to make fertilisers from thin air!”
“All right. Just let me have some fun. But can we get back to what you said earlier? What do you mean by the third way? I kind of interpreted that for you.”
“And you interpreted it exactly right. Enlightening the tribals and expanding civilisation without the use of a sword – or a gun in this case. It has been the Follower’s foreign diplomacy since their inception and I’m proud of carrying that tradition.”
“You do realise, you’re only equipping them with the means to advance quicker to pre-war levels. You’ll be creating a powerful rival of the NCR.”
“Is that a bad thing? My history research proves that humanity advances at a faster pace when having someone to compete with. With no enemies on the horizon for the NCR, they’ll only grow stagnant. A perpetual status quo of brahmin barons bribing the wheels of bureaucracy and politics in the heart of Shady Sands. Hell! The NCR might start to seek enemies from out of nowhere. Don’t you think it’s strange how the NCR Armed forces haven’t demobilised? Gun Runners are making record profits from government contracts. The ghouls of Necropolis are making stacks of dollars from selling military trucks, artillery and shells. Not combine harvesters, scythes and ploughshares.”
I had a similar conversation with Julie and Adam, well mostly Adam since the Spitfire was more adamant about playing and adventuring. The Chancellor and several high rankers of the Followers are puzzled by the NCR’s current policy. They’re clearly preparing for war, but against whom? I radioed my concerns to Mamma and Pappa, thinking they may have connections with the Congress, but they kept saying to not worry and focus on my studies. Something was off and I didn’t have the connections and resources to properly investigate it.
I had nothing good to say so I resorted to giving the NCR a weak but valid excuse, “I’m sure they have a good reason. The NCR stretches from Oregon to Baja California. Vast tracks to patrol and keep safe for law-abiding citizens of the Republic.”
“I hope you’re right, Leon. But I’m still adamant in setting an outpost in the Grand Canyon.”
“How?”
He slumped his shoulders, “I don’t know. I tried doing what you did by appealing for funding from various module leaders influential with several schools. And they keep rejecting me except the School of Sociology and Anthropology. The Dean there is also planning to send an expedition in two years to learn the dialects and languages of the local tribes. He expects me to lead this, but I have to prove myself. Hence this,” Edward pointed at the stacks of books relating to human development and behaviour. “I’ve got a lot to learn.”
“Hopefully, my tasks for you won’t be forgotten.”
“I want money, fame and power. This invention of yours will give me all of that. Doing this will make organising the expedition more seamless. Money for the caravans and necessary provisions, fame to attract people to my convoy and power so I’ll not be a puppet of the Dean. So, no. I'll get you your steel.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought. Perhaps I can help. Once we’ve finished the prototype of my invention and begun to mass-produce fertilisers, I’ll join you. Pappa will sponsor us handsomely and provide decent protection.”
Edward’s eyes practically gleamed and I could see my reflection in his hazel pupils. “Your help will be more than welcome. You’ll be ten by then. Will your folks even allow that? Even my mother is hesitant watching me go.”
“With enough persuasion and adequate protection, yes. I could even study geology and hire a few prospectors to sell to my father, and his friends about the potential wealth that we could discover in Arizona. As I said, I could work with greed.”
“Much appreciated, Leon. As for procuring you some rolled steel, I should set off within a week. I’ve already got a connecting train to the Hub and then to Necropolis. I've chosen to transport the steel onto freight trains. It's more expensive but you did say not to worry about the cost.”
I hummed in approval and bit my lips. “Excellent. Now to wait for Professor McLafferty.”
I didn’t have to wait long. I got an invitation to a meeting at the behest of the Old Crone. I was even shocked when the redhead lady of Campus Security came to deliver the invitation.
“Hello, beautiful! What brings you here?” My bodyguard swooned over her.
“She came to escort me to this meeting with Ma’am McLafferty.” I addressed him as I hopped to the meeting room making sure to be in the front, where I didn’t have to hear Frank’s flirting.
I spied two more security guards in the distance guarding the entrance to the meeting room. I nodded to them, and they granted me access but denied it to Frank, who was more than happy to be left out if it meant more time with the redhead.
When I entered, I was surprised by the assembly of high-ranking and influential members of the university and the Followers. There were twelve of them and I only noticed four familiar faces, Alicent who sat in the middle of the crescent desk, Adam who sat directly to her left and Professor Mertz with the engineer that I had Edward talk to. Also, a youthful lady dressed in a white lab coat seemed to shift in her seat awkwardly trying to hide something in her neck. I think I may have seen her during lectures on synthetic chemistry. I was directed to sit in front and middle of the crescent desk where all twelve gazes bore themselves unto me.
I didn’t want to speak first due to struggling to calm down from the excited trepidation that I was currently feeling.
“Before we start this meeting, has everyone read the Frederik Process and its potential application?” McLafferty asked which got everyone to nod in assent. “Good. Young Leon, you realise that this invention of yours is not as innocent as you have advertised?”
Such an open-handed question to which I didn’t know whether to answer in full sincerity or complete bafflement. “I am fully aware that nitrates can be used to make gunpowder.” I gambled and settled for honesty instead of deception. I gripped the edges of my seat waiting for rounds of condemnation from a group of committed pacifists. Turns out I was worried for nothing.
“It’s good that you understand the tragic implication of your invention,” Adam said and smiled at me. “But this invention, this process is truly revolutionary. We could mass-produce fertilisers that will increase the food output of the NCR! Preventing future famines is a noble endeavour that we as a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse, should help with every fibre of our being!”
“Hear! Hear!” The rest cheered and applauded.
I was glad I had the Chancellor on board. I think I’ve impressed him with the fact that I’ve managed to convince the Old Crone into my plan.
“Now that we’re on the same boat, we should start making a prototype.” Adam stared at me, “It seems Leon is ahead of us. He sent Edward on an errand to collect and transport high-grade steel in Necropolis for us.” How did he know that?! I made sure there were no listening devices and cameras in the library room. Edward was too secretive to talk to anyone other than me. “I’ve got eyes and ears across the university, Leon. You can’t hide anything from me. I know how much you want this invention to be entirely your responsibility but allow us to help.”
“I like my independence. Would I have full control of the resources that you’ll give me?”
“With oversight.”
Alicent twisted her ancient neck and glared at Adam, “Mr Chancellor! That’s highly inappropriate! He’s eight! This should be my project since my school’s treasury will be heavily funding this.”
“Using donations from my father and his ‘uneducated’ and ‘unwashed’ friends, no doubt.” I did promise that I’ll get back to her. If it means humiliating her in front of the brightest minds of the university, then so be it.
“Shut it, Frederik. This doesn’t concern you!”
“It’s my idea! My invention and my father, of course, it concerns me.”
“You're eight years old. You need adult supervision.”
“You know what else I need? A General Certificate for Education, but I don’t. There’s always an exception, Ma’am Mclafferty.”
Adam snorted, “He’s got you there, Alicent.” Before she could retort, he shook his head, “That’s enough. I’ll hear no more objections. You’re in charge Leon, but you’ll have to give us monthly updates in this room. Got it?”
“Understood, Mr Chancellor.”
Months passed by as I took to ordering dozens of technicians and engineers to create the prototype plant and the necessary equipment. The bottleneck of the current project is to fractionally distil nitrogen from air which requires building a container and cooling that to negative hundred and ninety-six centigrade, then purifying the air into nitrogen only. Thankfully, I had the full support of the Chancellor, and I was able to acquire a team of researchers to solve this problem. Eventually, they did and the engineers got to work applying radiators, that accelerated heat transfer, away from the container. Effectively, creating a cryogenic distillatory. A thermostat was put inside and all of us celebrated as the counter stopped counting at -196ºC.
A membrane was installed adjacent to the cryogenic distillatory which separated the nitrogen from oxygen and other molecules from the air.
I gave Edward the honour to open the valve releasing hydrogen into the container full of nitrogen. The reaction took so long that the researchers devised a catalyst to hasten the process. We tried platinum and magnesium catalysts until Edward tried an iron catalyst which accelerated the volume of liquid ammonia being condensed.
After that, it was Mclafferty’s, and her team of inorganic chemist’s, job to synthesise the ammonia into nitrates and industrial fertilisers.
I gave a few tonnes of the fertilisers to Mamma and Pappa telling them to share it with other farmers and landowners. I figured my parents would make good distributors and advertisers.
Now it was more waiting on whether the fertilisers increased the yield. I told my parents to wait for three harvests to determine the results.
Time flew by as I busied myself consolidating my dreams with the endless stacks of books in the library. Occasionally debating with Edward about the future of humanity and the NCR. It often ended in stalemate as I failed to convince Edward about the beauty and allure of pre-war civilisation. He doesn’t seem to understand that inevitable technological advancement will progress the NCR back to pre-war levels. When I tried to enforce my point, he only grew more secluded and introspective. Often taking a while to respond as he endlessly muttered.
One day I managed to pick his ramblings as he mused, and it terrified me. Edward theorised that NCR should be reformed into a civilisation that didn’t focus on technology. It was sacrilege and heresy as far as I knew, and I challenged him on it. “What about passing the torch of knowledge! It won’t be possible if you’re going to stunt technological advancement! You cannot suppress the indomitable spirit of humanity to innovate.”
“Knowledge is more than technology. It can be used to create a more cohesive society free of corruption and exploitation. Where everyone strives for a common goal. A society that prioritises the greater collective good rather than the individual. Where cooperation is preferred over competition. You should see the dozen or so parties in Congress and the frequent infighting and competition which does no one any good. They're just time wasters. If they have a common goal and are fully devoted to achieving it, they wouldn't be bickering like a bunch of children. No offence.”
“None taken. Do you even have any government frameworks that fully encapsulate your vision?”
“None as of yet.” He shook his head and carried on reading the stack of books like an ‘ostrich’ burying its head into the ground. The analogy seemed apt since the ‘ostrich’ would only do so when under extreme fear. Edward, for all his idealism and vision, is afraid of the future of the NCR. That’s putting it lightly, he’s showing signs that he dislikes the present state of the Republic.
Another way of passing the time more quickly is by tutoring the Spitfire, which was one of Adam’s favours when he helped me out against the Old Crone. Julie was a smart kid who learnt history, numeracy and basic science like fish to water. Her immense curiosity would serve her well in the future as a researcher and scientist. Yet it did nothing but give me headaches as she spat questions and contrarian hypotheticals. Truly living up to her nickname.
She hardly struggled with what I taught her and when she did, she’d scowl and purse her lips as if she was sucking on lemons. It was adorable and I couldn’t resist messing her hair, the same way Ben does to me.
A pang of sadness struck me as I remembered Ben. He was currently a cadet at Camp Navarro and due to national security, his correspondence was lacking. He missed the fireworks for the start of 2245 and my birthday. Whatever he was dealing with must’ve been important and required absolute secrecy and extensive censoring of his letters. Not even a radio was allowed into the facility for fear of the frequency being breached by malcontents. Or so they say. I didn’t get it. There were no other factions that could hack into NCR terminals and radio. Except the Brotherhood, but they’re treasured allies. It was all so strange. Coupled with perpetual mobilisation and exponential growth of weapon manufactory, it didn’t make any sense. But I had a project to finish so I banished Ben’s painful absence from my mind.
I eagerly waited for the fourth harvest, four hundred days later, as I studied with my handy portable radio waiting for my parents to call me.
The receiver crackled a bit which made me jump. I immediately adjusted the frequency to get a clearer signal and was surprised when it was quicker than usual. “My little cub! Your fertiliser worked! Wheat is up to three times the bushels! The Jacksons and Havertys down the street are also making as much! I haven’t heard from the Banerjees and Wilsons, but I’ve been hearing rumours that their cobs are up! You did it! You made a miracle!”
The receiver muffled a bit, “I’m so sorry about your father, Leon. He is very excited. But know this, you’re a genius inventor, second, and my precious little boy, first! You made us proud, my little boy!”
“How’s the new radio, my cub? Are you using the one I gave you for your birthday?”
“I am Pappa. It picked up to your frequency quickly with minor adjustments.”
“Good, good! I expect a daily call from you. When can your mother and I expect you to be back home?”
“I should be back home by May. But I thought you’d be coming here? I’m not an adult yet so I need my legal guardians to be here to set up a company.”
“Oh! Wait! I didn’t know – Liane! What’s this about Leon setting up a company?!” Indiscernible yelling rang across the receiver.
“Sorry, my dear. You were so busy planting the fields that it simply left my mind. But yes. I’m coming to represent Leon and set up a beneficial royalty fee and to make sure he’s the highest shareholder. I’m a lawyer, I’ll make sure Leon gets his fair share.”
I could feel a sense of malice and evil emanating from the radio, but I ignored my superstition. I knew Mamma had my best interest in hand.
Before I knew it, I was rubbing my hands together in ecstatic glee. Edward managed to score a good deal with our steel suppliers, Mamma will ‘negotiate’ and tighten my leverage over the commercial sales of the fertilisers. With Pappa’s networks and the influence of fellow farmers like him, demand for my fertiliser will be astronomical. I could see the dollars running in front of me. Yes, dollars - not caps! Dollars backed by thousands of kilos of Redding gold!
With my invention, the population of the NCR will more than triple! More people, more ideas, more innovation! More wealth! I spun in my room and daydreamed about my meeting with the Mother of the Nation, and my speech when I receive the Golden Branch. The highest reward for a civilian, only given to citizens with outstanding meritorious achievements – AKA – ME! I silently celebrated some more.
“What are you doing?” My bodyguard opened the door. I would’ve normally noticed but I was too distracted.
“Celebrating my future wealth! And speech upon accepting my medal!”
He smiled. “You’ve done nothin’ but impress me, kid. However, I’m expecting a pay rise!” The banter continued between Frank and me. He no longer spoke to me like a kid, though he still refers to me as one. I definitely didn’t pout at that.
Later on, with Adam’s prodding and Alicent’s begrudging respect for my invention, several studies were undertaken for crop growth in harsher soil using my fertiliser, were published and rapidly disseminated. The media caught on and it only made my mornings of daily musings of the newspaper all the more enjoyable. ‘The next agriculture revolution!’ ‘Boy genius invents the next GECK!’ ‘Will the desert turn green!’ My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I read the last headline. I’ve already heard that many enterprising citizens started to use my fertiliser in the Mojave and Sonoran. I wished them the best, hoping they knew what they were doing. Hopefully, no one is insane enough to try growing stuff on the sand. Even if they did, they better not blame me for their stupidity!
The days went by in a blur as more and more of my factories were built across the Boneyard, giving hundreds of locals high-paying and secure jobs. Giving hope to many. Though initially, the influx of non-educated labourers was a tremendous money sink but as they trained and gradually became more competent, productivity grew at an exponential rate.
My reputation went through the roof as I couldn’t even step outside without a couple heckles of praise. It was doing wonderfully for my ego, yet I wasn’t done. I remembered why I did all of this. And that was because of money... No! Not money, but to quench my curiosity and my need to solve a puzzle. I needed to know why the NCR betrayed the scientists and soldiers of Camp Navarro. They were valuable assets to the Republic with their knowledge, expertise and skills.
They could’ve contributed much, and this was evident when many of the former Enclave researchers and engineers helped build the prototype cryogenic distillatory and the tanks that could withstand high pressures. They also proved to be valuable advisors when scaling up the manufacturing process to factories. Which is going to be a future headache when the military police will attempt to arrest them again in greater numbers.
I wanted to know why they were being arrested! I don’t want my valuable employees to be arrested! I owe them that much at least.
To my great relief, my anguish was interrupted when a boy roughly around my age, delivered me a message. “For Leon Frederik.” The boy didn’t even let me say thank you as he mounted his bicycle and sped away. I squinted and saw his distinct hat. I didn’t know telegram messengers were always in a hurry. Perhaps it’s different here.
I opened the message and grinned. It was the Presidential Telegram. I’m going to receive the Gold Branch. I'm going to speak to President Tandi!