In his lifeti spanning a hundred years, Lille not only experienced the convenience and efficiency brought by the highly industrialized period of human industry.
He was also forced to experience starting from scratch, trying to slt and purify nuclear fuel, and assemble corresponding products in extrely urgent, high-pressure, and harsh environnts.
So even knocking out machines in the cave was sothing he could do, and now he had an even better helper:
A bulky and massive makeshift industrial robot.
This robot was modified together with Dr. Tums. It looked fat, but once unfolded, it was a small slting station.
The robot took out one large module after another from itself, then used motors and assembly equipnt to set up a small production line.
The ore would be crushed into powder by the crusher, placed in the chemical dissolution chamber, the uranium elents extracted through the arc furnace, maintained at high temperature, and sent into the electromagnetic isotope separation chamber.
Most of the batteries in the first batch of supplies were stuffed into this robot.
But that amount of energy was actually not enough for long-term slting and purification by the machine.
So the machine itself also carried a reactor furnace into which uranium could be directly inserted as fuel—
Very crude, but useful.
The only problem was that when the robot acted as a furnace and assembly plant, Lille would be stretched too thin to do other activities.
The only helper Lille could use beside him was this Tanzanian Minister of Mines.
Lille loaded the ore into the furnace and looked at the minister:
"I have to tell you in advance, because the equipnt is a bit rudintary, the whole process will further increase the radiation level in the mining tunnel, especially for the workers next to this machine.
Your protective gear can’t shield it; you’ll get radiation sickness. It might be mild or severe, but either way, problems will arise."
Radiation sickness?
Mos nervously asked:
"Do we... do we have to do this?"
"We don’t have to." Lille threw another handful of ore, "You can run out, and I’ll manage it alone, but the efficiency will be much lower.
This way, the probability of failure will greatly increase, and we may have to abandon this mine. I’ll still find a way to continue our cooperation.
But... many tis, strategic failures are caused by tactical failures triggering chain reactions.
Like this ti, the people of i Country can deploy Iron Soldiers once, they can deploy a second ti, and your Defense Army, your mining departnt, regulatory departnts... in short, your governnt, can do nothing."
Mos’s mind went blank.
He was highly educated; he knew what radiation sickness ant, unlike those poor, pitiful workers outside who didn’t even know to fight for labor protection.
If one day he beca deford, sickly, and dying from radiation sickness...
Could he still be a politician? Would anyone respect him?
What would they say? Say that the Minister of Mines, educated abroad, didn’t even know about radiation sickness, and mining caused safety accidents?
Lille saw all this and suddenly stopped his actions. Looking at Mos, he said:
"Then do you know what will happen?
Everyone on this land will beco like the miners here.
Because everything you say is nonsense; only those Iron Soldiers that could be deployed to your land at any ti are the truth, are the law.
It’s not the Iron Soldiers that trample this land, it’s not just your citizens who get radiation sickness; it’s you! You, and your country!"
Mos looked at Lille in a daze.
Lille turned away, grabbed another handful of uranium ore, and fed it into the crusher.
In this world, there really weren’t that many pure and high-minded people. Most people disguised their actions and adorned their demands under grandiose pretexts.
Mos was soone who had learned to use so-called civilized thoughts to disguise and persuade himself.
Maybe when tis were good, he’d be full of hope and ideals, telling himself he wanted the Tanzanian people to live good lives, for the whole world to respect this country, for it to beco prosperous and advanced.
But in these tis...
He thought about himself.
Underneath those thoughts, he thought about himself: he wanted to live with dignity, so he had those thoughts.
But where does a politician’s dignity co from?
Lille grabbed so ore:
"Those workers just want to live well, to earn a living; they choose to beco workers, but the rest? They can’t think that far ahead.
And you, you want respect. To gain respect, you choose to beco a politician.
But where does a politician’s dignity co from? From those laws written on paper? From each United Nations eting where they put a little na tag for you? From tirelessly, kindly teaching your citizens what is civilization, what is legal and compliant?
Don’t be ridiculous.
A politician’s dignity cos from the dignity of the citizens. If they work generation after generation in these mines like rats, producing generation after generation of cheap, deford labor...
Tell , who the hell would care about the thoughts of such a country? Who would care about... you, the Minister of Mines of Tanzania, your thoughts and laws?
As long as the i Country’s ’Human Rights Monitoring Forces’ don’t drop on their heads, that’s all that matters! You? Get out of here."
Lille grabbed another handful of ore.
"So will you work or not? Or you can run, maybe the Iron Soldiers outside will spare your life; after all, they still need a Minister of Mines to sign a paper, saying it was all a misunderstanding, and maybe you’ll even have to compensate them from the treasury."
Mos stared at the ore, his breathing heavier and heavier—
Swoosh.
He picked up a shovel and silently loaded a handful of ore into the furnace.
Lille also fed ore into the crusher.
"Good."
Lille turned around and started taking out another batch of parts from himself, these were for assembling weapons—
This was a brand new plasma weapon.
Nuclear fuel would be placed into a container and compressed, overloading a nuclear reaction with another nuclear power device.
The reactor generated a small amount of plasma, sprayed it through the container, and through the barrel.
The barrel was an electromagnetic rail, carrying multiple magnetic accelerators in series, giving the radiation-charged plasma group strong propulsion, finally firing at near supersonic speed.
This was a plasma cannon based on the Centaur cha Cannon principle, equipped with a nuclear battery, and smaller shells with lower temperatures but higher speeds.
And it was still radioactive.
The first edition weapon, while the stats didn’t look very impressive, limited by production conditions, still had many safety hazards, but it was definitely lethal to robots.
"Hope to use it just this once."
Lille said, attaching the 1.5-ter-long, 22.5mm barrel to his chest, while in the robot’s chest and belly, a nuclear reaction energy tube emitting faint fluorescence could be seen—
Gathering from the limbs to the chest.
After removing those tools, this robot itself was a mobile turret.
"Mr. Lee." A dusty Mos suddenly spoke, "But relying on you to deal with those i Country people, what’s the difference?"
"First, this is a victory we achieve together."
Lille replied while controlling the robot to move slowly.
"Second, do you have children?"
"One is three years old, the other six."
"Unless your children are addicted to petroleum, we have many technologies to ensure they grow up healthy."
Mos sat on the ground, suddenly laughed.
"You’re right, sir, it’s a bit different."
The robot stepped toward the cave entrance with heavy steps, the 1.5-ter electromagnetic rail starting to charge.
Nuclear fission reactions operated at high speed in the core of the machine, and as the high-pressure container activated, the pipelines shone even brighter...
Watching the familiar data feedback from the machine, Lille suddenly felt a bit dazed.
He didn’t think he’d have to return to his old line of work.
Buzz, buzz, buzz—
The barrel lit up, hot, radiated plasma entered the ammunition chamber—
"...One more thing, I’m going to na this weapon ’Tanzania.’"
"Haha..." Mos laughed, "Can we use this engineering robot? I don’t want our na on a weapon."
Lille showed a surprised expression but didn’t stop his steps.
"Sure."
Boom!
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