Chapter 122
Chapter 122
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 122
Chapter Title: Panic (2)
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“Haber! You did it!”
“Haha! That's right, Baron! I did it. I've succeeded in ammonia synthesis! Hahaha!”
Unable to hold back upon hearing the news that Fritz Haber had succeeded in synthesizing ammonia, I raced to Karlsruhe Polytechnic University and, overwhelmed with joy and excitement, grabbed Haber's hand and spun around the lab.
If I were a woman, I would've showered kisses on his gleaming bald head.
Haber completing the ammonia synthesis process was nothing short of a monumental breakthrough for both me and the German Empire.
“Osmium! Osmium was the key!”
Haber, his excitement refusing to subside easily, kept chattering nonstop.
“Ah, the countless experiments to find a catalyst for combining atmospheric nitrogen and hydrogen into ammonia, and all the money it cost... It's all thanks to your support, Baron!”
Though he said it with some exaggeration, it wasn't hyperbole at all when you consider he'd originally run over 20,000 experiments just to find a suitable catalyst for ammonia synthesis.
Of course, this time we'd slashed those years dramatically with the straightforward power of money.
Naturally, I'd poured a hefty sum into Haber's ammonia experiments too, but fortunately, Haber hadn't wasted a single sacrificed mark from my wallet.
The vanished marks were probably resting in peace, satisfied.
“Now humanity no longer has to fear famine, the greatest enemy since the dawn of mankind. Thomas R. Malthus's Malthusian Trap will fade into history too!”
“Yes, yes. Truly a monumental achievement. So, when can we expect commercialization?”
At my question, Fritz Haber lifted the corner of his mouth as if he'd anticipated it.
“I've already discussed commercialization with Karl Bosch from BASF—you know, the German chemical giant—especially about scaling up the yield to suit mass production.”
Carl Bosch.
The German chemist from BASF, the man responsible for the 'Bosch' in the Haber-Bosch process.
In fact, Bosch collaborated with Haber to commercialize ammonia synthesis, earning the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 1931 after Haber received it in 1918 for the same achievement.
But from my memory, it took Haber and Bosch about four years to fully commercialize the Haber-Bosch process.
And four years wouldn't solve the economic downturn staring us in the face right now—poor Finance Minister Stengel would have to strip down to his underwear.
We needed results in at most two years, ideally one, to turn things around.
And the best way to achieve that? Money, once again.
“Haber, if the Imperial government backs the commercialization of ammonia synthesis, could you shorten that timeline from at least two years to one?”
“With the government's full support, it's not impossible... but is there a pressing reason to rush so much?”
“As you know, the German Empire is facing tough economic times in the wake of the panic in America.”
I explained the current dire straits of the Imperial government to Haber.
Without it, tax hikes were our only option, but if his ammonia synthesis could be commercialized as quickly as possible, enabling mass production of nitrogen fertilizers, it would be a huge boon to the Empire.
“Oho! If my synthesis can help the German Empire, how could Fritz Haber hesitate? Of course I'll cooperate!”
“Th-thank you.”
Haber, who'd heard me out, grabbed my hand as if he might burst into tears right then.
I was the one who'd brought it up, yet I ended up flustered instead.
Not that Fritz Haber would ever refuse, of course.
This was the man who'd set aside scientific conscience and humanitarianism for the Empire to invent poison gas.
For the German Empire, he'd probably sacrifice his own life.
Whether that was good or not, I couldn't say.
“Then pass the word to BASF and Carl Bosch. I need to rush this great news to the former Chancellor and the Finance Minister as soon as possible.”
“Leave it to me. If BASF hesitates, I'll persuade them no matter what it takes.”
“Talking should suffice. It's a good deal for them too—they won't refuse.”
I calmed Haber, who seemed ready to gas BASF's offices if they balked, and turned my gaze toward Berlin.
I wonder what face Bülow would make upon hearing this.
“Did you say nitrogen fertilizer just now?”
“Yes, Chancellor.”
The answer was a face barely suppressing a grin that threatened to burst out.
He looked nothing like the man who'd frowned when I requested a late-night audience.
“Increased food production means less reliance on imports, cheaper bread prices, and better public opinion for sure. And considering the boost to the Imperial economy from higher agricultural output... this is a total jackpot...!”
Finance Minister Stengel, summoned like Bülow, was wide awake now, lost in his own world calculating the gains from nitrogen fertilizer.
The birth of the Haber-Bosch process and its outcomes were more than enough to overturn the grim mood from the 1907 panic economic crisis.
“That Fritz Haber from Karlsruhe Polytechnic—a professor there—has definitely completed this ammonia synthesis or atmospheric nitrogen fixation process, right?”
“I confirmed it with my own eyes. Commercialization is next, and with government support, we can accelerate it significantly.”
“Of course we'll spare no support. I'd even open my family vault if needed.”
Once Haber-Bosch was commercialized, nitrogen fertilizers would dramatically boost Germany's food production and stabilize the economy immensely.
Plus, the German Empire already held Nauru as a colony, famous for its phosphate rock—guano deposits.
Nitrogen fertilizer + guano?
If I were a farmer, I couldn't resist that.
And thanks to Bismarck—who'd farmed in his youth—Germany had one of Europe's most efficient agricultural systems.
They were also highly receptive to new techniques.
Introducing nitrogen fertilizers would be like strapping wings on the backs of German farmers, just like those famous energy drink ads.
“And the value of atmospheric nitrogen fixation isn't limited to fertilizers. Explosives too—we could produce them cheaply and quickly. No more depending on Chile's saltpeter.”
“We're spending a fortune on saltpeter imports as it is. Cheaper explosives would trim military budgets a bit too.”
In fact, during World War I, even when Britain's naval blockade cut off saltpeter imports, the Haber-Bosch process kept Germany from running out of ammunition.
Of course, Chile—the world's top saltpeter producer and exporter—suffered massive economic losses because of it.
“Ha, hahaha!”
As I silently mourned Chile's unaltered fate, Chancellor Bülow finally let out a booming laugh he couldn't hold back anymore.
Ignoring that it was the dead of night.
“I must tell His Majesty to award Fritz Haber a medal. He's not just saved humanity from starvation—he's saved me and the German Empire from this damned panic!”
Of course, commercialization would still take time, so Germany's economic woes wouldn't vanish overnight.
Still, in a situation with no answers but tax hikes, Haber and atmospheric nitrogen fixation were a godsend for Bülow.
And Finance Minister Stengel, beaming innocently beside him, went without saying.
“Finance Minister, by tomorrow morning, put a government support plan for commercializing ammonia synthesis in cooperation with BASF on my desk by week's end.”
“Of course, Chancellor.”
“You've got me in your debt this time. My choice was right after all.”
By my memory, the debts Bülow owed me weren't just one or two.
But thanks to his continued support, I'd made it this far, so helping him felt rewarding.
Besides, in this world, it seemed Bülow would hold the Chancellorship for a good long while.
Bülow's actions were swift.
The very next morning, he officially declared full government support for Fritz Haber and Carl Bosch to accelerate Haber-Bosch commercialization.
And as I'd expected, BASF welcomed the enthusiastic backing.
It was a win for them too if it sped things up.
The issue was funding amid the strained budget, solved by 'donations' from the Imperial family and German upper crust.
Wilhelm II, convinced by my earnest persuasion that Haber's ammonia synthesis would elevate the Empire and the House of Hohenzollern, gladly opened the royal coffers—and once the Kaiser led, the nobles followed, willingly or not, with tears in their eyes.
And the most enthusiastic? Surprisingly, the Junkers—those landed nobles at heart.
With industrialization eroding their wealth, yet clinging to agriculture via heavy tariffs on imports through political clout, nitrogen fertilizers were a drought-ending rain for them.
Tch, if only they were this cooperative all the time.
Well, laugh while you can.
Once World War I ends, you won't have much to smile about.
Thus, as the German Empire united for the first time in ages to overcome the 1907 panic's fallout, the new year of 1908 dawned.
Good tidings kept coming: Amundsen conquered the North Pole under my sponsorship, and Norway's King Haakon VII sent me a personal thank-you letter.
But the problem was, I wasn't enjoying it.
Because right now, I was stuck with Schlieffen, pouring most of my remaining vacation into revising and refining the Schlieffen Plan with him.
I'd planned to spend New Year's with Luise... sigh.
“So your point is to flip the whole thinking on its head?”
“Yes. Though fleshing out my concept requires advancing the plan further first.”
“Don't rush me. Tanks weren't enough—now airplanes too? My head's spinning.”
Schlieffen grumbled, pursing his lips, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
By the way, the Wright brothers had formally established Wright Inc. to match airplane militarization, hiring engineers en masse and accelerating development.
Among the new hires was 18-year-old Anthony Fokker, who'd shown up from the Netherlands empty-handed, smitten by the Wrights' air show.
The named dev behind Fokker Eindecker, Fokker Dr.I, and most Imperial German aircraft in World War I.
Anthony Fokker was also the inventor of the synchronization gear that ushered in true aerial combat.
Of course, as a passionate youth just starting under the Wrights, his true potential would take time to shine.
Anyway, airplane progress was smooth, and perhaps influenced, Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin was reportedly doubling down on airship research too.
I recalled airship tests this summer—wonder if it'd crash and burn trying to land in a storm like original history, or if the timeline changes and it succeeds.
Even if it failed, Germans captivated by its grand majesty would cheer on airship development relentlessly.
Original history proved that; why would this time be different?
“Count, Colonel Ludendorff is here.”
“Send him in.”
As Schlieffen and I racked our brains over the Schlieffen Plan, Ludendorff arrived.
He'd come straight from General Staff HQ after work, still in uniform.
“Good day, Your Excellency. And Baron, perfect you're both here—no need for separate visits.”
“Looking for both me and Hans? The tractor project?”
Ludendorff nodded at Schlieffen's question.
“Yes. The tank prototype reveal date is set.”
At his words, Schlieffen and I clasped our hands, faces alight with anticipation.
The day we'd awaited—the tank's debut in this world—had finally arrived.
I wonder what it'll look like.