Jason reviewed the data, his mind racing. He immediately moved the northern mining operations to the absolute top of the priority list.
However, as he continued drafting the master industrial plan, a glaring issue became increasingly obvious: their population was simply too small.
The labor force was severely strained. Fifty thousand people was a critically low number for a civilization trying to rebuild from scratch.
Although The Noah's factories boasted a high level of automation, they still required human oversight. Heavy machinery like excavation rigs needed skilled operators. When factored across all essential sectors, the sheer number of required hands was daunting.
For heavy industry, the obvious solution was to develop highly advanced, intelligent robotics to replace human labor. Several research labs were already heavily invested in AI and robotics, and Jason could only pray they made swift progress.
"Advanced robotics can replace manual labor. But there are still critical sectors where machines simply cannot replace a human touch..."
Thinking about these irreplaceable roles gave Jason a headache.
Doctors, teachers, journalists, security personnel, and psychologists, these professions required empathy, intuition, and complex human interaction. They could not be automated in the short term, and they demanded a massive chunk of their available human resources.
The most vexing issue, however, was the impending demographic dip. As the Federation(New Human Civilization) encouraged population growth, the active labor force would temporarily shrink! Dozens of women were already pregnant. They would naturally be exempt from heavy or hazardous labor.
After giving birth, parents would need several years to properly raise and care for their infants. Childcare was not a job for cold, metallic robots, perhaps in some distant utopian future, but current technology was nowhere near that level.
If they hit a target birth rate of just 5%, that meant 2,500 children born in a single year! That was 2,500 active workers removed from the labor pool for maternity and early childcare. That equated to an instant 5% drop in total workforce capacity in year one alone. And what about years two and three? Children needed to be at least three years old before they could be enrolled in early-education centers.
Furthermore, an influx of newborns meant the Federation would need to train and reassign more pediatricians and nurses to ensure infant mortality remained at absolute zero.
In the coming years, the demand for educators would skyrocket, from early childhood development to primary, secondary, and eventually university-level instructors. It was an unavoidable logistical cascade.
It was entirely foreseeable that over the next few years, while the total population would increase, the active labor force would steadily decline.
Jason drummed his fingers heavily against his desk, shaking his head in frustration. Expanding the population was vital for their survival, but the immediate social burden was staggering.
This was the painful bottleneck of a demographic transition. Jason frowned deeply. For the next few years, perhaps even the next decade they would just have to grit their teeth and endure the labor shortage. Once they survived this phase and the first generation of children reached adulthood, the population base would expand, and the societal structure would naturally stabilize.
If only we had one or two hundred thousand people, human resources wouldn't be stretched so thin... Jason mused quietly.
He quickly chastised himself for being greedy. Though they only had 50,000 souls, their overall quality and expertise were unprecedented in human history. A larger, more chaotic population might have torn itself apart by now.
From the Lunar Base all the way to Mars, the resilience and executive efficiency of the Federation had been nothing short of miraculous.
Throughout multiple catastrophes, the citizens had shown incredible initiative, discipline, and a willingness to sacrifice for the greater good. The crucible of near-extinction had forged them into a highly cooperative, unified society. For that, Jason was deeply grateful.
Moreover, The Noah housed nearly 30,000 top-tier scientists. They were the absolute elites selected from across the globe, boasting an average IQ well over 140. Thirty thousand geniuses were a formidable force, and their shared intellect made governance incredibly efficient.
If one were to compare the Federation(New Human Civilization ) to Earth's pre-collapse superpowers, the results were illuminating.
Take the old North American Sector, for example. In the pre-collapse era, individuals with a true doctorate degree made up less than 1% of the total population. If you excluded the business administration PhDs and honorary titles, the number of individuals genuinely capable of high-level scientific research was perhaps 0.6%, roughly two million people.
And upon graduation, those two million were heavily diluted across various commercial industries, swallowed up by tech mega-corporations. The number of scientists truly engaged in paradigm-shifting, national-level research was perhaps one in ten. About 200,000 people.
Compared to that superpower's 200,000, The Noah's 30,000 scientists were at a numerical disadvantage. But in terms of quality, it was an absolute slaughter. These 30,000 were the apex intellects of the entire human race. Every single one of them could do the work of ten standard researchers.
Science has always been driven by quality, not quantity. Ninety-nine percent of the world's breakthroughs are forged by one percent of its people.
The remaining 20,000 citizens, while not research scientists, were elite engineers, military operators, and essential specialists. There was not a single weak link aboard the ship.
Consequently, the Federation's total research output was staggering. Whether it was Professor Hao Yu, Dr. Felix, Biologist Roman, or the passionate geologist Dr. Dimo, these were all historically brilliant figures.
Jason's heart stirred as a realization hit him. There was a common saying circulating in The Noah's laboratories recently: "Instead of setting us back, the destruction of Earth accelerated our technological development by a decade!"
Why? The answer was the total eradication of nationalities and discrimination.
Science may know no borders, but scientists always had nationalities. On Earth, they were strictly forbidden from sharing classified state technology with foreign peers.
These 30,000 scientists had previously spent their lives conducting highly classified research for competing superpowers, accumulating vast oceans of proprietary data. Under normal circumstances, those secrets would have died in locked vaults.
But now, the old world was gone. The geopolitical chessboard had been flipped. There were no more rival nations, no more corporate espionage. Open scientific exchange was the only path to survival.
As a result, the Pan-Asian Coalition contributed their advanced magnetic-levitation transit networks; the Pacific Consortium offered their bleeding-edge microelectronics; the European Union shared their next-generation nuclear reactor designs; and the Central European Union provided their automated manufacturing schematics. The North American and Siberian Sectors threw their classified military and aerospace archives wide open.
This unprecedented exchange was revolutionary. These technologies had cost decades of labor and trillions of dollar to develop.
Previously, if one faction wanted to replicate a rival's engine design, it would take twenty years of reverse-engineering and patent navigation. Now? All data was open-source. A problem that had stumped one team for years was often solved in an afternoon by a colleague from different part of the globe who had already cracked the code.
The Federation had inherited the absolute pinnacle of Earth's collective technological mastery. It was entirely accurate to say their current capabilities surpassed any single pre-collapse nation by more than a decade.
Thinking of this, Jason slapped his hand against his desk. Theoretical exchange wasn't enough; they needed practical application!
He would give them the raw resources, the limitless nuclear energy, and the heavy industrial base they needed to let their imaginations run wild. He would trigger a second technological explosion!
This was Jason's ultimate vision. He wanted to push the Federation from mere survival into extreme post-scarcity affluence within a matter of years. And for a space-faring civilization, extreme affluence was merely step one.
Since labor was short, total automation was the only answer. Jason reviewed his master blueprint one final time, satisfied that it was ready.
He didn't waste a second. It was time to go to the Council.
14:00 Hours.
The central conference room was packed with Council representatives, chief engineers, and department heads. They had gathered to debate and finalize the master blueprint.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the preliminary proposal has been transmitted to your terminals. Please review the executive summary," Jason announced from the head of the table.
The room fell silent as the representatives eagerly scanned their screens. Even those who had been briefed beforehand were visibly stunned by the sheer scale and audacity of the project.
"I will briefly outline the three primary objectives," Jason began. "First: An exponential expansion of The Noah's productivity, covering both heavy and light industry."
"To achieve this, we will initiate the Third Industrial Revolution. All major engineering sectors will pivot toward mass industrial production. We will construct new surface foundries and laboratories designed for complete automation."
Complete automation meant factories that operated entirely via AI and robotics, from raw ore to finished product, requiring zero physical human labor on the factory floor. Humans would act solely as architects and final-stage supervisors.
"Second: The radical improvement of our living environment. Phase One dictates the terraforming and enclosure of a 200-square-kilometer biodome. We will establish a fully self-sustaining ecological system. We are going to build a slice of Earth right here on Mars."
Hearing this, Roman smiled in deep satisfaction. He had survived the Martian virus for this exact moment. Seeing the biosphere project officially greenlit made all the suffering worthwhile.
"Third: The massive expansion of public infrastructure. Schools, advanced medical centers, libraries, athletic complexes, and parks. As you all know, our Federation is about to welcome its first native-born generation. They deserve the absolute best medical care and education we can provide."
A few of the representatives in the room were expectant parents. Hearing this, they exchanged warm, relieved smiles.
Jason then brought up the detailed schematics. "Alright, are there any immediate objections to the core philosophy? If not, we will move on to the logistical timeline. Please point out any structural flaws..."
The room erupted into passionate, bustling debate. Many of the proposals discussed today had been drafted months ago during the initial "Great Construction" phase on the Moon, but had been shelved due to resource scarcity.
Now, fueled by nuclear power and endless Martian ore, those pipe dreams were becoming reality.
Projects like the Aegis Industrial Complex, the primary Federation Ore Refinery, and various massive automated foundries were officially assigned. The engineers in the room were practically vibrating with excitement; many felt their pulse racing and their breathing grow heavy at the sheer engineering challenge.
"Let's set our baseline target," Jason said, his voice cutting through the chatter, dead serious. "We will increase our total industrial capacity at a rate of 100% every six months."
He wasn't exaggerating. Doubling capacity every six months meant true exponential growth. In one year, capacity would quadruple. In two years, it would be sixteen times greater. In three years, sixty-four times greater!
"Exponential growth, doubling every two quarters. Do you all understand the math? This is the standard we must strive for!" Jason declared.
No one thought he was crazy. Instead, the room erupted into thunderous applause. Eyes gleamed with fanatical determination. If they could pull this off, the Federation would undergo a total qualitative evolution.
Was the goal difficult? Yes, it bordered on the impossible. But no one in that room cared. Obstacles were meant to be engineered out of existence. If they shrank from a challenge, they had no business calling themselves scientists.
They didn't possess a timid mindset. They wanted to test their limits and forge a new world with their own hands!