Chapter 63: Iron Roots, Burning Soil
The sun rose over the Atlantic like a molten coin, casting long shadows across the crimson banners now fluttering above Nueva Cádiz’s civic tower. It was the third month since the first Civic Brigade set foot on African soil, and already the shoreline resembled an industrial frontier. Not just tents and pylons—but cranes, workshops, trade depots, and transmission towers. Iron roots were pushing inland.
Prince Lancelot stood on a scaffold above the port, watching as a new steam dredger carved out a wider channel for Aragonese freighters. His coat smelled of engine oil and salt. Below him, dockworkers—some from Valencia, most now locals—shouted in two languages as crates of copper cable and prefabricated turbines were offloaded.
Juliette climbed the steps beside him, her sleeves rolled up, fingers still stained with graphite and sweat.
"We just received confirmation from Camp Delta," she said. "The inland expedition has reached the river fork. They found limestone and clay near the ridge. Bellido recommends building a cement factory there."
Lancelot didn’t answer at first.
He was watching a group of village boys—barefoot, no older than ten—learning to assemble a Dynamo crank light under the guidance of a Civic engineer. The lamp lit, and the boys shouted in delight. No soldier could have conquered them as fast.
"Then tell Bellido to proceed," Lancelot said at last. "We’ll name the new settlement Fort Alba."
Juliette nodded. "We’ll need more power stations. And a rail link. The jungle’s thick between here and there."
"Then we lay the tracks thicker," Lancelot replied. "If the jungle resists, we answer with steel. We are a modernized state. Doing things that was hindered a decade ago wouldn’t be an issue today."
By the end of the week, Fort Alba rose out of red soil and broken stone. The first to arrive were rail surveyors and construction brigades, followed by medical units and two dozen local laborers trained in Nueva Cádiz’s civic workshops. What followed was methodical: perimeter trenches for drainage, reinforced bunkhouses, turbine pylons, and a mobile communications tower hauled in by ox-drawn sled.
The telegraph line buzzed to life on the fourth day.
Then came the mines.