Chapter 2829 Danzhou Specialty Chemicals

Mai Ruibao had always considered himself more knowledgeable about Senate factories than most naturalized citizens his age. His earliest memories traced back to his family's drift from Dongguan to Macau before the Senate took them in. His brother-in-law had found work with the Senators, and as the youngest in the family, little Ruibao often visited the Hong Kong shipyard to deliver meals. He grew accustomed to the cranes, slipways, and machinery that defined that world. When he came of age to study in Lingao, the various "industrial work" assignments and "internships" at Fangcaodi became routine. So when Mai Ruibao first stepped off the Gold Star Zero, his impression of Danzhou's Specialty Chemical Industrial Zone—apart from its terrifyingly vast footprint—was that it resembled the large factories in Lingao and Maniao: sawtooth-roofed workshops, pipes running in every direction, towers of varying heights, narrow-gauge railways and cinder-paved roads crisscrossing the grounds, and an unnamed sour-rotten smell drifting through the air. Many of his Fangcaodi classmates called this the "factory smell."

But venturing deeper into the complex revealed peculiarities. Beyond the security checks at every factory entrance, critical departments had security police standing guard, strictly inspecting everyone who passed through. Mobile patrol teams of National Army soldiers carrying shotguns cycled through periodically on bicycles or rail carts.

Most conspicuous were the naturalized-citizen workers wearing red "Safety Officer" armbands—far more numerous here than at other factories—and the safety warning signs posted everywhere. All of this reminded Mai Ruibao that this was no ordinary enterprise; safety was paramount here.

Before arriving, he had known in rough terms that many products from the Specialty Chemical Zone served military purposes—probably all flammable and explosive.

Facing this dazzling factory, Mai Ruibao found himself momentarily at a loss, uncertain what to photograph. After some consideration, he aimed his camera at two prominent giant cylindrical structures and began pulling the bellows to focus.

"Don't waste negatives on the fire prevention water towers." A voice startled him. A girl had appeared beside him without his noticing—about his age, rather slight in build, yet radiating that condescending aura Fangcaodi upperclassmen assumed when addressing freshmen. She extended a thin wrist from her baggy work uniform sleeve—an ugly scar marked it—and pointed toward a small building near the water towers. "Fire hydrants and hoses are stored inside. There are plenty throughout the factory zone. You're not here to inspect fire prevention work, are you?"

Mai Ruibao could only show his press pass, indicating he had come to accompany the Senators on their interviews. But the girl remained relentless: "How can a qualified reporter not understand their subject matter?"

"I'm a greenhorn. Don't really understand factories." Mai Ruibao could tell at a glance this visitor was some Senator's "disciple"—only they possessed such confident expressions and condescending tones.

He knew such people mostly thought highly of themselves; mishandling them could easily cause offense. Fortunately, these individuals had been selected to be around Senators since childhood and mostly lacked deep scheming—they responded well to flattery. He immediately assumed an enthusiastic air: "I just started working at the pictorial. This is my first time at such a large factory." He looked around, expressing half-genuine wonder: "This factory is amazing! The Senators who designed and operate it are incredible!"

The girl's expression said "naturally." Mai Ruibao quickly pressed his advantage: "From your manner, you must be a student of a Senator here? Perfect—you can teach me. What are the most photo-worthy places? I really don't know."

He could tell his humble, eager-student performance pleased her.

"Follow me. Our teacher will show you what's truly valuable, what photos are worth putting in a pictorial."

The girl led him to a group of tall tower-shaped structures where the Senators he had come with were already gathered. Clearly important equipment. The teacher the girl mentioned—Senator Qi Chuqin, whose name Mai Ruibao often saw in newspapers—stood surrounded by other Senators from the inspection team, fielding their rapid-fire questions.

The towers emitted a pungent stench that spread in all directions. Mai Ruibao was about to retrieve his mask, but seeing Chairman Wang completely unconcerned, walking around and examining the towers from every angle, he could only hold his breath as best he could while training his lens on these strange structures: a forest of tall iron cylinders, enormous steel tanks suspended mid-air on frameworks of steel and concrete. Countless pipes bent into bizarre shapes, bundled, fixed, and connected this mass of metal like strings. Medium-sized iron tanks and steel vessels occasionally ballooned from between the pipes, linked together like vines bearing fruit. These oddly-shaped behemoths rumbled and spewed smoke and vapor, as if they were living, indescribable creatures. Belt conveyors continuously fed crushed anthracite into openings at the towers' bases, as if feeding monsters. Amid the roaring din, Mai Ruibao, busy photographing, caught fragments of Chairman Wang's conversation with Senator Qi:

"...Early trials showed considerable fluctuation. Currently liquid ammonia production has stabilized around 500 kilograms daily..."

"What about ammonium nitrate?"

"Daily production: 120 kilograms."

"Not much. That's only forty to fifty tons a year. Of course, we're still in pilot testing, so these numbers don't count."

"Right now there are too many places needing ammonia and nitric acid. Of course, if the Planning Commission approves orders, even with pilot-phase synthetic ammonia output, doubling or tripling ammonium nitrate production is no problem. Besides, once pilot testing ends, this equipment can enter continuous production. Barring any hiccups, we expect to reach the designed annual capacity of 1,200 tons of ammonia by year-end. Then whether it's nitrogen fertilizer or firecrackers, Chairman, we'll have plenty..."

"What problems are there? Nothing in this world is all good."

"Nothing escapes you, haha. Alright, the most critical problem is that our materials industry is still somewhat lacking. Catalysts and corrosion-resistant materials are deficient. Substitute materials can only answer the question of whether we can produce—they can't hold up once we scale. Then there's gutta-percha. Supply is intermittent. Really difficult."

Chairman Wang smiled and nodded, offering no further comment. Apparently this problem was beyond even his ability to solve. After gazing for a while, he suddenly lowered his voice as if asking Senator Qi something. Senator Qi's face turned grave as he replied just as quietly. From their expressions, it seemed to be something important.

Mai Ruibao, adhering to the "Three Don'ts Principles," quickly looked away and used his fingers to frame potential shots nearby. He then took several photos of large equipment and workers performing maintenance. He had originally wanted to shoot some photos with workers as models, but today's lighting was unsuitable for close-up portrait shots. He had only twenty-four single-use flash torches in his bag—he would have to use them sparingly.

The magical product of the towers, the treasure that Senators said could become nitrogen fertilizer or firecrackers, finally revealed itself in the packaging workshop beneath the granulation tower: white pellet-shaped ammonium nitrate granules spread across canvas conveyors, eventually falling into specially made lead-lined drums. When each drum was filled, workers lined the rim with wax paper, screwed the lid on tight, then lifted it onto handcarts to be wheeled away. Chairman Wang, oblivious to the irritating smell, watched entranced. Suddenly he asked Sun Shangxiang: "Do you know what these are?"

Sun Shangxiang shook her small face—previously flushed, now somewhat pale: "Please enlighten me, Chairman." Mai Ruibao gazed with concern at her incompletely wiped tear tracks—he did not know they were from getting too close and being irritated by the evaporating ammonia.

"This is the foundation of the Australia-Song people being free from hunger, and the guarantee of the Fubo Army's victory." Chairman Wang seemed thoughtful. "Sometimes the latter is more important than the former. Victory must come first before people won't go hungry."

"Chairman, could you explain in more detail?" Sun Shangxiang wrote furiously in her notebook while pleading in a weak, delicate tone.

Chairman Wang laughed heartily and pointed at the girl student following Teacher Qi: "Go ask her. Have her explain in detail. By the way, Old Qi, I haven't asked your star pupil's name."

"Reporting to Chairman: my name is Qi Kelong!"

The moment the girl finished speaking, not just Chairman Wang but all the Senators in the inspection team burst out laughing. Sun Shangxiang and the other naturalized-citizen cadres laughed along. Only Mai Ruibao turned his face away, pretending not to see.

Qi Kelong, not understanding, instantly turned crimson but stubbornly held her thin neck straight. The inspection team then boarded flatbed cargo cars pulled by fireless locomotives running on the zone's rail system.

The flatbed train passed several workshops still under construction, scaffolding everywhere. From the Senators' conversation, Reporter Mai learned that this Danzhou Specialty Chemical enterprise was the first fully electrified factory under Senate rule. Indeed, as they walked in and out of workshop after workshop, all had electric lighting. Exhaust fans whirred. Everyone had put on the factory-provided safety goggles and activated-charcoal masks, but Mai Ruibao still detected a nose-stinging acidic smell in the air. Everywhere he looked—massive nitrating vessels, reaction tanks, and water tanks—some showed bare cast iron, some were covered with enamel anti-corrosion layers, and some parts were actually made of glass. Workers in tight oilcloth protective suits operated the mixers. Thinking of the strong acid churning in those tanks, acid that could dissolve even human bones, he could not help his hair standing on end. Like the synthetic ammonia-ammonium nitrate co-production installation, pipes of varying thicknesses—metal, glass, and gutta-percha—wound around the tanks and machines, connecting them together. Chairman Wang inspected equipment along the way, finally stopping by a crystallizer and pointing at the pale yellow crystals that had dried inside: "What's the current output?"

"Reporting to Chairman: TNT daily production is approximately 100 kilograms." It was still Qi Kelong who answered.

(End of Chapter)