The First Superhuman: Rebuilding Civilization from the Moon-Chapter 74: A New Environment
Just to be safe, Jason ordered the immediate construction of a one-billion-ton Helium-3 nuclear bomb and a matching "basin-style" propulsion engine.
Once the prototype succeeded, the design could be systematically mass-produced, as the underlying technology wasn’t overly complex. Although Mars had slightly stronger gravity than the Moon, a one-billion-ton yield would still easily provide enough thrust to break orbit.
If a catastrophic crisis erupted on Mars, humanity could detonate the bomb and ride the shockwave to safety aboard the Noah. As long as the threat wasn’t something they carried with them like a viral outbreak, escaping the planet would guarantee their survival.
This was Jason’s personal contingency plan. After discussing it with Austin and the other department heads, he had immediately issued the directive. Just having the plan in motion made him feel significantly more relaxed.
Meanwhile, the ship’s industrial revolution raged on. In the weeks that followed, good news poured in. New inventions and brilliant ideas flowed from the engineering teams like a water from a geyser. Machines hummed, motors roared, it was a true golden age where sweat and intellect worked in perfect harmony.
If an average white-collar worker from the Old World had somehow boarded the Noah, they would have found it nearly impossible to get a job in their field. The current labor demands required incredibly high levels of technical skill and practical experience. Almost everyone on the engineering teams held a master’s degree, and many were doctorates, yet even they felt they needed to learn more to keep up.
For example, at the ship’s premier heavy industrial base, the Aegis Industrial Complex, a single floor worker was expected to research, program, design, test, and even collaborate directly with artificial intelligence! The barrier to entry was staggering. The crew had no choice but to study fiercely during their off-hours just to keep their jobs.
Other vital sectors, like medical and journalism, also attracted the best and brightest, and their rosters were already full.
For an average person with no specialized scientific background, the best option was to join the military. Being a soldier didn’t require a master’s degree in engineering; it just required grit and physical endurance. The Security Department was notoriously short-staffed. Austin was incredibly stressed about it; he felt they needed at least five hundred more soldiers to properly secure the ship, but Jason consistently refused to allocate that much manpower away from the industrial sectors.
...
Time flew by in a blur of hard work. Another month passed.
Thanks to a massive injection of resources, the Aegis Industrial Complex was rapidly expanding its production lines. Phase One of the facility was officially complete, and Phases Two and Three were already under construction. Because the engineering teams were getting better at the process, the construction time for the subsequent phases was dropping drastically.
Most importantly, these new assembly lines were fully automated. Once powered on, they required almost zero human intervention. A single automated line could manufacture the parts needed to build another automated line, creating an exponential growth curve for their industrial capacity.
It was a terrifyingly efficient system.
Various experimental robots were also being deployed for trial runs on the factory floors. They didn’t get tired, they didn’t complain, and they didn’t make calculation errors. Once their efficiency was verified, they would be pushed into mass production. Soon, humans would only be needed for high-level design, oversight, and final maintenance.
Jason was also pushing for a complete overhaul of their light industry. The scattered, inefficient plastic, textile, and chemical plants were going to be dismantled and merged into a single, colossal manufacturing hub.
According to the senior scientists’ blueprints, this mega-factory would be capable of mass-producing a staggering variety of consumer goods. Raw materials would funnel into a central processing port and be distributed across a massive web of conveyor belts. The assembly lines would be interconnected, allowing them to share resources and swap production modules on the fly.
A single facility would handle almost all of their daily necessities! While the final blueprints were still being drafted, its completion would mark a massive leap forward. Everything from towels and clothing to plastic containers would be synthesized under one roof.
The "basin-style" escape engine had also been finished within the month. The engineering teams had cleverly built it using scrap steel and recycled waste materials. The consensus among the scientists was that in the face of a billion-ton nuclear detonation, the difference between high-grade titanium and scrap steel was negligible. As long as the physical structure of the "basin" could contain and direct the downward shockwave for a fraction of a second, it would do its job.
With the Noah now capable of emergency extraction at a moment’s notice, a massive weight lifted from Jason’s shoulders.
Today, he was taking a walking tour of the Noah’s newly constructed civilian sector. The transformation was breathtaking.
Due to the ticking clock, they had only managed to finish forty square kilometers of the residential zone, about one-fifth of the original blueprint. Still, forty square kilometers was the size of a small town, and it was a massive upgrade from their previous living conditions.
Fifty thousand people were currently housed here. It was comfortable, spacious, and completely devoid of the claustrophobia that usually plagued spaceships.
It was nearing the end of the year, and the streets were decorated with festive lights. The Federation Era calendar began on the day Earth was destroyed, and a standard year was still 365 days. As Year One drew to a close, citizens began celebrating various winter holidays from the Old World like Christmas. The government fully supported these spontaneous community events and had even officially approved a five-day public holiday for the entire crew.
Living standards had skyrocketed. While no one technically "owned" property yet, the populace had largely moved out of the cramped, temporary tin barracks and into proper apartments provided by the government. Rent was deducted from their credits based on square footage. Practically speaking, renting and owning were the same thing; the government had promised never to evict anyone in good standing, allowing families to treat the apartments as their permanent homes.
"Look up," said Dr. Roman, Jason’s old colleague and the leading expert in charge of the ship’s ecological systems. He was practically bouncing with enthusiasm as he led the tour. "Lining the ceiling are the latest high-efficiency energy bulbs. They perfectly replicate the solar spectrum, allowing the green plants down here to undergo normal photosynthesis."
"The system is entirely automated," Roman continued. "It mimics a natural day-night cycle, gradually dimming after 18:00 hours to help regulate the crew’s circadian rhythms."
"And over here is the New Hope Plantation, our primary agricultural center."
As they stepped into the plantation sector, a vibrant sea of green stretched out before them. Jason nodded, deeply impressed. The New Hope Plantation primarily relied on advanced hydroponics. Only a few large fruit trees still required actual soil, simply because the soil-less technology for heavy-root trees hadn’t been perfected yet. Those trees had only been planted recently and were still just slender saplings.
The agricultural equipment they had manufactured during their previous reforms had been seamlessly integrated here, saving them countless hours of labor.
Fields of rice, wheat, and corn grew in perfectly organized tiers alongside vast rows of fruits and vegetables. Although the crops weren’t fully mature yet, they looked incredibly vibrant and healthy.
New Hope. It was a fitting name.
Because the climate and lighting were strictly controlled, the plantation would yield fresh produce year-round, entirely unbound by traditional seasons. For a crew that had been eating preserved rations, this was a massive morale booster.
"It looks like we won’t have to worry about a food shortage anytime soon," Jason noted, highly satisfied. The staff had worked miracles to get this running so quickly.
"Absolutely!" the sector manager replied, beaming at Jason’s praise. For experts of their caliber, failing to secure the food supply with these kinds of resources would have been a humiliating disgrace.
"At current projections, the plantation can produce enough annual yield to feed two to three hundred thousand people," the manager continued. "We could clear more sectors for planting if we needed to, but right now, it would just result in food waste. We’ve also successfully balanced the Noah’s oxygen production and consumption rates using the crop yields."
"What about the surplus?" Jason asked.
"Any organic waste or surplus crops are processed into feed for the livestock like chickens, ducks, fish, pigs, and cattle. That operation is handled next door at the New Hope Ranch."
Jason nodded in understanding. So that was why they were overproducing crops.
The biological experts had broken down the efficiency of the livestock perfectly. Pigs offered the best return on investment, boasting a feed conversion ratio of roughly 2.5, meaning it took about 300 kilograms of feed to raise a pig to a slaughter weight of 120 kilograms. Cattle and sheep were less efficient, requiring about 5 kilograms of feed to produce 1 kilogram of meat. Laying hens, while only weighing 1.5 to 2 kilograms themselves, would eat about 40 kilograms of feed a year but reliably produce around 150 eggs.
Jason was a firm believer in letting the experts do their jobs, and the agricultural team clearly had the math down to a science. They would perfectly balance the crop yields against the livestock consumption, ensuring nothing rotted in storage while maintaining a robust food web.
"Make sure our main silos always hold at least a two-year reserve of non-perishables," Jason instructed.
"Of course, sir. That’s already factored into the quotas," the manager replied smoothly.
Jason thought for a moment. "How long until the crew can start eating real beef and pork,etc ?"
"Probably another year or two," the manager admitted. "The initial breeding pairs provided by the genetic labs are small in number, and their gestation periods are slow. We have to build up a sustainable population before we can start harvesting them for meat. However, the chickens, ducks, and aquaculture tanks are reproducing rapidly. Poultry and fish are already available on the standard menus."







