Let's Build a Power Plant

Let's build a power plant.

In the year 4113, when Daehan established its petroleum research institute at the Baku oil fields, no one could have imagined how brilliantly the empire's petrochemical industry would blossom over the next forty-seven years.

And petrochemistry really is something else. All those smokeless powders and explosives we used to labor over, gathering rare ingredients one by one and synthesizing them drop by drop — now we can churn them out by the truckload.

That means nobody on this earth dares covet a single inch of Daehan soil.

Oh, and fuel is finally plentiful, too.

Doo-doo-doo.

All those countless Ddareungi bicycles people ride to work in the morning and to the market for groceries.

Tu-ta-ta-ta.

And the automobiles hauling cargo into every corner of the realm. With fuel economy that good, people can drive around without a second thought about the cost.

All of this meant that people no longer needed to cram themselves into cramped little cities. Even living quite far away, they could still visit the temple to pray and receive healing without any trouble.

And truthfully, an awful lot of people would rather live somewhere quiet and secluded than tangled up in a crowded maze of neighbors.

Do you see what that means? It means the groundwork has been laid for the entire nation to develop evenly, from edge to edge.

"The cities really have become a sight to behold."

"Fights between people, and the number of them dragged off to the temple, have dropped considerably as well."

Ah, right — unless it's a serious crime, offenders get hauled to the temple, don't they? The priests must finally have some breathing room.

"Now, there's one thing that will make people's lives truly rich and comfortable."

"Hmm... electricity?"

"Correct answer!"

That's why I call them my brilliant friends. Mose and the others ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠are sharp as tacks, every last one of them.

So now, it's time for us to spread this electricity to the four corners of the realm, isn't it?

"Electricity hasn't reached the countryside yet, you know."

"That's right. We've been getting plenty of suggestions that we should build more power plants."

Power plants are all well and good, but if we scatter coal-fired plants here, there, and everywhere across the land, there'd be no managing them at all.

So instead, we're going to try building a very eco-friendly kind of power plant.

Perfect for this country, with all its rivers and mountains.

Sorry in advance to all the fish, though...

"We are going to build a hydroelectric power plant."

"Huh? What's that? Can you burn water, too?"

Hm? Well, you can, technically — electrolyze it into hydrogen and oxygen — but that's not what this is.

"It's simple. We trap the water, then use the drop in height to spin a waterwheel."

"Ah! So we connect a generator to that waterwheel!"

Exactly. And as long as the dam is well built and the facilities are properly maintained, you can produce electricity dirt cheap.

"Pass the concept along to the research institute and have them survey locations where we can build one. You can't just plop these things down anywhere, you know."

"I see. To use a spot where water can be trapped, plus the difference in elevation, we'd have to head into the mountains, wouldn't we."

"Right. And the more water there is nearby, the better."

Since I can hardly run around doing the legwork myself, it's faster to turn the kids loose and let them turn every mountain upside down.

I do feel bad for the animals and fish who'll lose their homes...

But it beats building coal-fired plants by the dozen and choking the whole planet in smoke...

Humanity, I'm sorry! Cut me some slack here!

The newly founded hydroelectric research institute these days barely bothered to turn its lights off at night.

After all, the idea of building a "dam" — a thing Haneul had described to them — and generating power with it was nothing short of revolutionary.

"Hmm. One of the problems we predicted is sediment gradually building up..."

"Director, are you brooding over that again?"

"I am. The generating equipment we can expand and repair as needed, but the real question is how in the world we clear out soil once it piles up."

Teams of people were combing the mountain ranges and river systems across the nation, vetting candidate sites one by one — but the sticking point was a technical one.

Construction aside, the trouble was how to deal with the sediment once the thing was built.

"Hmm... It would be lovely if we could filter it out in advance, but there's no way to stretch a net across that much river..."

"Hm? Director?"

"What?"

"Can't we just... filter it out in advance? For real?"

The director's fist clenched. That was the very thing that had him tearing his hair out, and now this kid was saying it like it was obvious.

"No, you fool! Director! That's not the issue — it's that debris wrecks the waterwheel, isn't it?"

"So?"

Now the director's fist was rising toward the sky, poised to come crashing down, and the poor researcher's survival hung entirely on his next answer.

Take one of those terrifying boulder-crushing fists to the face, and you'd probably be out cold for a day at least.

"Put a small dam up ahead — no, not even a full dam, just a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠raised ridge on the riverbed! Anything big will get caught there, won't it? Then all we have to figure out is how to clean that spot out later!"

"Hmm..."

Since this was their first attempt, who knew what other problems might surface down the line — but for the moment, equipment failure was the biggest worry of all.

Too much debris, or debris too large, flowing into the waterwheel and shredding the machinery — that was the thing that kept them up at night.

"Not bad at all. Better yet, we could dig a spillway there and open the gates once in a while to flush the debris out. That would work nicely."

This was a first for everyone, and they were building something enormous — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a structure that, once raised, could not simply be knocked down and rebuilt if something went wrong.

So the researchers threw themselves into predicting every problem they could imagine and hunting for ways to head them off.

Because if cracks formed, or the dam gave way, it would sweep away lives by the thousands — a catastrophe of the highest order.

"Whew... I'm worried about how the river will change, upstream and downstream..."

"The impact is bound to be significant."

"We'll need to think about a path for the fish to swim upstream, too."

"That's a hard one."

The farmland downstream could be handled with potato fertilizer, but how the ecosystem itself would shift was far harder to foresee.

Still, the lights of the research institute, striving to keep the damage to a minimum, showed no sign of ever going out.

These days, the people of Daehan needed money.

Money to buy a Ddareungi, money to buy an automobile.

"It's a fine thing and all, but when am I ever going to save up enough..."

"I want one too..."

Tu-ta-ta-ta.

Sighs spilled from the lips of two young men who paid their fare and rode a hired carriage to work each morning.

Green as spring grass, barely started in their working lives, they still had youth written all over their faces.

"Isn't there anywhere to make some real money..."

"Back in the old days, they say there were all those big civil engineering projects. That's how people earned their coin."

Daehan's economy at the moment was in an awkward middle place.

Nobody went hungry, but saving up for something truly desirable — a Ddareungi, an automobile — took ages.

Road and rail construction on the Original Continent had dwindled to a trickle, and plenty of people balked at crossing over to the Eastern Continent for work.

"Last stop! Everyone off~"

"Ugh. Let's go."

"Yeah."

Before they knew it, they'd arrived. The two young men climbed down near the train station.

The shopping district around the station, where crowds packed in shoulder to shoulder, was where they both worked.

Murmur, murmur.

"Hey, that thing? Should we check it out?"

"Sounds rough."

"Still, it looks like the best shot we've got, doesn't it?"

The two of them spotted the crowd gathered around the public notice board.

It was where major policies and business announcements got posted, along with advertisements — a kind of community news board meant to be read in passing.

"Should we take a look?"

"Yeah. Let's see if there's anything interesting."

And the two of them began inching their way forward through the press of bodies.

Once they reached the board and scanned it, the reason for the crowd's excited buzzing became clear.

It was a notice for a large-scale civil engineering project — the first in a long, long while.

"Whoa!"

"Wow!"

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Same thing!"

For starters, the length of the project suited them perfectly. The plan was to build one as a pilot, then expand the program across the entire nation.

Which meant, if things went well, this could be a job for life.

After the pilot phase they'd have to apply through an actual construction company, but with experience from a first-of-its-kind project like this under their belts, acceptance was a sure thing.

"Let's sign up right now!"

"Together!"

The people of Daehan had just been handed a chance to make real money.

Whenever a civil engineering project like this opened up, a worker could earn two or three times an ordinary monthly wage.

As the two young men sprinted off with wide grins on their faces, they could already picture it — a shiny Ddareungi and an automobile, gripped tight in their very own hands.

Tu-ta-ta-ta.

"Go slow. This road is a genuine maze."

"Yeah."

About five ri upstream from Danhwa, along the winding banks of the river — that was where a truly colossal construction project was underway.

"Think She'll be here today?"

"If She's not, the construction doesn't happen, does it?"

The young men drove their cargo-loaded automobile briskly along the riverbank.

Because at the construction site, you could see Haneul-nim in the flesh.

Right now, Haneul was tied up at the dam site, scooping the river's water out of the upstream valley into Her subspace and releasing it far downstream.

Which meant one thing: stop by the construction site, and you were all but guaranteed a glimpse of Her.

"There She is!"

"Wow... beautiful as ever today."

"Yeah. Haah..."

"Hey! Eyes on the road, at least while you're driving!"

"Ah — whoa!"

The two of them took turns driving, for the simple reason that they and plenty of others had caused any number of accidents gawking at Her instead of watching the road.

Might as well take turns admiring, and leave the driving to somebody else.

Whoooshhh—

"Wow... it's breathtaking every single time."

The entire river vanished from the upstream valley, only to come gushing out of nowhere far downstream — like someone had torn a wormhole open in the middle of the world.

"Me, I just want to look at Haneul-nim a little longer."

"Uh... right..."

The dam itself was in the thick of its foundation work.

The plan was to build it up to a certain height first, then carve out the channels for water to pass through and begin letting the river flow gradually — so for now, the workers were a little disappointed they couldn't linger and watch.

"Whew... She'll be leaving soon, won't She?"

"Yeah..."

In theory they could have blocked the river bit by bit as they went, but for a first attempt, Haneul was lending a hand.

"So how enormous is this thing supposed to get, anyway?"

"Good question? I heard this entire floor we're standing on is still just the foundation."

"Wow... you could sprint across it and it'd take forever, right?"

How colossal the dam was meant to be, nobody could quite say — but the "foundation" alone already required dozens of people standing shoulder to shoulder, arms outstretched, to span it.

Ordinarily, a dam this size meant a vast flooded zone and endless headaches over displaced communities. Daehan, however, only had to feel bad for the animals.

"No one actually lives around here, right?"

"Suicide volunteers?"

"Ah, right — anyone who did would've been eaten ages ago."

In Daehan, anyone choosing to live deep in the mountains was half-classified as a suicide volunteer.

Even traveling the well-paved road along the river, workers were issued revolvers, just in case.

Because if an animal came out of those woods, you had to fight it.

Daehan's first dam rose steadily, without a hitch.

"If the rebar's all in, get out of there! We've got forms to build and concrete to pour!"

"Yes, sir!"

Credit where it was due — concrete. Unlike hwanghoe mortar, it could be reinforced with steel bars.

And being right on the river, water was in plentiful supply, too.

Grrrrumble.

"Pour it gently, will you!"

"Sheesh. You think I can just dial it down on command? Fine, I'll be careful!"

On the other side of the site, workers were packing rock into the gaps between the finished foundation walls.

"We can start pouring concrete on this section!"

"I'll check with the office and be back!"

Once a section was packed full of stone, concrete was poured over it to seal the seams.

This served two purposes: it conserved concrete, and it gave the dam the sheer mass it needed to hold.

Because in the end, it was the dam's own staggering weight that would hold back an entire river.

Each completed layer became the base for the next, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠built up in identical fashion — simple, but absolutely critical work.

"We're moving faster than I expected."

"Some of us have been at this for years now, Chief. People have gotten the hang of it. Hahaha."

Haneul, who had spent the early days busy draining the riverbed, now watched the construction progress from a building at one end of the dam.

The wall kept rising higher and higher, while down below, crews were installing the generators and running test operations — everyone was busy.

"I hear the transmission towers are coming along nicely too?"

"Yes, sir. Without those, this whole thing might as well not exist. Haha."

Transmission towers were marching along the riverbank toward Danhwa, and from Danhwa toward Sinsi along the old road, construction was in full swing.

A truly staggering amount of Shincheol steel was being poured into them.

"Still, it's a relief there haven't been any major accidents. Good work, all of you."

"We're relieved ourselves, sir. It was all in our heads, after all — just calculations."

Drawing up the blueprints had given the research institute staff no end of grief.

If you're going to worry that much, just over-engineer the thing. Build it to last a hundred years. A thousand.

That was the single line Haneul had tossed their way when they came to Her with their worries.

It was like the cry of a savior. Had Daehan ever scrimped on anything over budget concerns?

And for a structure like a dam — where a collapse spelled catastrophe — there was simply no reason to count pennies.

"Even if someone dropped a bomb on this dam, it would never, ever collapse."

"Then make sure nobody gets the chance to drop one."

"The soldiers will handle that part, won't they?"