The acquisition of land and licenses, orchestrated with such disarming brilliance by an eleven-year-old, sent ripples of quiet astonishment through the British administration and a wave of trepidation among the existing industrialists. They expected a traditional Indian venture, slow and cumbersome. What they got, under Adav's meticulous guidance, was a whirlwind of activity unprecedented in Pune.
Adav, though still physically small, commanded the construction site like a seasoned general. His father, Ramnath, was present, his authority lent to his son, but it was Adav who held the schematics, who directed the foremen, who subtly corrected the engineers Finch had assigned. The Codex, a constant, flickering presence in his mind's eye, provided a relentless stream of data: material stress tolerances, optimal angles for reinforced concrete (a relatively new material in India), and precise calculations for the massive brick furnaces.
The challenges were immense. Sourcing specific grades of refractory brick, finding skilled laborers accustomed to working with heavy machinery, training them in the precise pouring and cooling techniques Adav demanded—each step was a battle. Adav never raised his voice. He simply explained, logically, precisely, how each step would lead to greater efficiency, to superior quality. His calm was infectious, and his uncanny ability to predict minor setbacks and offer immediate solutions earned him the bewildered respect of the construction crew.
He innovated on the fly, adapting his 21st-century knowledge to 1910 realities. The Bessemer converter he envisioned wasn't a carbon copy of future designs but a simplified, robust version that maximized the available resources. He insisted on a unique, slightly elongated shape for the converter, a seemingly minor detail that, according to the Codex, would ensure more consistent airflow and less heat loss, leading to a purer, more uniform steel. He redesigned the pouring mechanisms to reduce spillage and increase safety, much to the initial skepticism of the local blacksmiths, who soon conceded his methods were superior.
The plant rose from the dust of Pune like a metallic leviathan, its skeletal structures reaching for the sky. Rumors spread – that the young Adav was either divinely inspired or possessed by a jinn, such was the speed and precision of the construction. He didn't care. He was building. Not just a factory, but a foundation. The foundation of a new Bharat.