The months following the "Project Disha" presentation were a period of tense, silent negotiation. The proposal was so vast, so transformative, that it required a fundamental shift in the government's relationship with private enterprise. Harsh had not asked for a contract; he had asked for a partnership in sovereignty, a shared stewardship over the nation's operational intelligence.
The answer finally came, not through a formal letter, but through a cryptic, one-line message from the Prime Minister's principal secretary: "The gardener is ready to discuss the new irrigation system."
The metaphor was clear. Harsh was summoned.
The meeting this time was even more private, held at the PM's personal residence. The setting was informal, but the stakes were higher than any corporate takeover.
"The cabinet is divided," the Prime Minister stated without preamble, pouring two cups of tea. "Half see 'Disha' as the logical next step. The other half see it as a coup by corporate India, a surrender of the state's most vital functions." He fixed Harsh with a piercing gaze. "Convince me why it is not the latter."
Harsh had prepared for this. "Mr. Prime Minister, the state's vital function is the welfare of its people, not the operation of its logistics or the scheduling of its power grid. 'Disha' is a tool, like a pen. The hand that holds the pen, that sets the policy, will always be the government's. We are not asking to hold the pen. We are proposing to build a better one, one that writes with the ink of real-time data, so your policies can be more effective, more targeted, and more compassionate."
He leaned forward. "Let me give you a 'Disha' that you alone control. You will see where the hunger is before the riots start. You will see where the jobs are needed before the migration begins. You will have a dashboard for the soul of India. That is not a surrender of sovereignty; it is its ultimate enhancement."
The Prime Minister was silent for a long time, sipping his tea. He was a man who had spent his life in the labyrinth of Indian administration. He knew better than anyone the limitations of the state's current "pens."
"Alright," he said finally, the single word carrying the weight of a nation's future. "We will proceed. But on my terms. The entity will be a 51-49 partnership. Government holds the majority. It will be chaired by my Principal Scientific Advisor. Your role, and the Patel Group's, will be that of the executing partner and technology provider. All data is owned by the Government of India. All algorithms are subject to audit by a committee of parliament. This is non-negotiable."
It was a far cry from the equal partnership Harsh had envisioned. It was, in essence, a highly sophisticated, massively scaled government contract. But it was also a historic mandate. He had been granted the keys to build the brain, even if the government would hold the leash.
"We have an agreement," Harsh said, without hesitation. The principle was more important than the percentage points.
The announcement, when it came, was a political and economic earthquake. "GOVERNMENT, PATEL GROUP TO FORGE NATIONAL AI MISSION" screamed the headlines. The narrative was tightly controlled: this was a national project for national efficiency, with the state firmly in command. Harsh was portrayed as the loyal, capable industrialist answering the call of duty.
Within the Patel Group, the news was met with a sense of historic purpose. Deepak's "Sanskrit-2" project was now the heart of a national mission. Vikram's logistics data would be its circulatory system. Sanjay's agricultural network would be its sensory input.
The Aethelred Trust's Strategic Investment Office formally allocated the first $50 million to establish the "Disha Development Lab," a new, ultra-secure facility that would be the project's nerve center.
Harsh stood before his team after the announcement. "This is no longer about profit or market share," he told them, his voice ringing with a conviction they hadn't heard in years. "This is our legacy. We are being trusted to build the mind of modern India. Do not fail her."
The sovereign had been given a mandate that transcended business. He had traded absolute control for a seat at the table where the future of a billion people would be designed. The Patel Group was no longer just a corporate entity; it was now an organ of the state, a partner in the most ambitious technological project any nation had ever undertaken. The pursuit of power had led him to the ultimate source: the power to shape a nation's destiny.