Chapter 315: Ashes of Cataclysm

The eruption column of Yellowstone had now soared over a hundred kilometers—truly unprecedented in human history.

In 1980, the eruption of Mount St. Helens reached only 24.4 kilometers, yet its ash blanketed 11 states in the United States.

At this scale, the fallout will undoubtedly cover most of North America; only a narrow coastal strip in the American South might escape its wrath.

“Boss, Yellowstone’s sudden eruption seems linked to a series of recent earthquakes. The North American Plate’s collision with the Pacific Plate has triggered Yellowstone, which was already poised to erupt.”

Observing the live feed of the eruption, Han Guoqiang couldn’t help but comment.

Du Qiu knew that the final straw was likely the nuclear explosion at the 91st Aerospace Squadron base in North Daketa.

An underground nuclear explosion is essentially an earthquake in itself, and that base isn’t far from Yellowstone in Wyoming.

Coupled with the initial subterranean blast at Area 51, Du Qiu couldn’t help but lament the intricate fate binding him with the United States.

Fortunately, they had just expanded the rescue team. Although the new recruits hadn’t finished training, seasoned members and robotic teammates should be able to handle such missions.

“Sister Yuan, reassign the new recruits and veterans into mixed units immediately to aid U.S. civilians. Before deploying, have Liu Sichen notify both the northern and southern governments.”

“Understood—I’ll arrange it right away.”

Yuan Minhua hurried off while the veteran team, still busy in Central America, had to be recalled for reorganization, pairing experienced members with novices.

“Director Han, the Yellowstone eruption might well be nature’s way of accelerating the onset of a new ice age.”

Han Guoqiang remarked, “You’re right. This eruption is on a scale far greater than the 2014 Geological Survey simulation, which estimated an output of 330 cubic kilometers.”

“Under the current conditions, we’re looking at an eruption exceeding 1,000 cubic kilometers of ash—level 8 on the scale.”

“In the next couple of years, as volcanic ash circulates with atmospheric currents, global temperatures may drop by 10-15 degrees, even triggering winter snows in low-latitude regions.”

With a grave expression, Du Qiu said, “Then we have to implement our pre-established salvage plan, originally designed to counter a potential nuclear winter.”

“It now applies to combat the fallout from Yellowstone. Geological Research Institute, assess all active volcanoes in light of Earth’s seismic activity—we can’t afford to overlook these hazards.”

“Understood, Boss. The Geological Research Institute will complete the simulations swiftly to identify volcanoes with potential for eruption.”

After Han Guoqiang departed, Du Qiu fell into deep thought.

Suddenly, Star Ocean’s voice resounded, “Sir, the high-ranking officials of the U.S. Northern Government have taken refuge in an underground command center, and their southern counterparts have sheltered in a nuclear bunker.”

“Should we revise our dismantle-U.S. plan accordingly?”

After Yellowstone’s eruption, most of the United States will soon become uninhabitable, forcing many to flee.

These top officials hide underground, waiting until the disaster passes to reassert control over the nation.

Du Qiu wouldn’t let that happen.

“Initiate the alternative plan. With examples like ours, those conglomerates will likely abandon efforts to rebuild the United States.”

“Understood. The alternative plan is now in effect.”

Contemplatively, Du Qiu added, “During the early phase of an ice age, humans can survive on existing resources. However, the massive die-off of flora and fauna poses a real existential threat.”

As plants and animals begin to vanish, that loss becomes the true danger to humanity.

“Star Ocean, we need a plan to secure food supplies for the stranded human population on Earth.”

Star Ocean replied, “Last year’s global grain production hit 3.2 billion tons, with 500 million tons produced by the Wheat Group under Dream Technology.”

“The Wheat Group has established numerous high-rise farms across Africa, yielding not only 500 million tons of grain but also 5 million tons of cotton.”

“Add in 15 million tons of apples, 5 million tons of grapes, 5 million tons of pears, and more—the Wheat Group is responsible for roughly a quarter of the world’s total crop output beyond grain.”

Du Qiu ran a hand over his freshly shaven head and smacked his lips. Back then, to ensure self-sufficiency, they devised a high-rise farm model for the base.

Later, as energy issues were resolved, this model was widely adopted throughout the Middle East and African common market areas, even extending to Western China.

Before anyone realized it, Dream Technology’s subsidiary, the Wheat Group, had grown into a global food giant, commanding a quarter of the market.

But now, with Earth gradually entering an ice age, that level of output is simply not enough.

“Food is the foundation of society. As long as people can eat, humanity will survive—even in harsh conditions.”

“Haven’t Eskimos managed to survive at the North Pole?”

Star Ocean continued, “Based on current capacities, the Wheat Group could actually double production. However, to maintain profit margins and avoid unified opposition from other food giants, output is intentionally capped.”

“But if we’re to feed the global population during an ice age, capacity must at least be doubled.”

Du Qiu asked, “Are you suggesting that we continue large-scale construction of high-rise farms?”

“Oh, there’s another option. We can construct space farms that receive direct sunlight—this would save energy and provide crops with real sunlight.”

Du Qiu asked with interest, “Sounds like you have detailed plans?”

Star Ocean replied, “Yes, the design was conceived by an agricultural researcher named Li Weinong.”

“Oh, so he submitted the design? Then why hasn’t the Agricultural Research Institute reported it?”

Star Ocean answered, “He hasn’t formally submitted it yet. It was merely a conceptual proposal—he did draft some designs, but he isn’t a physicist, astronomer, or architect. His work remains rough and theoretical.”

“I found it intriguing, so I took the concept and refined it extensively. This is the current design plan.”

With that, Star Ocean projected the design of the space farm.

It resembled a cylindrical skyscraper, its layers like overlapping scales, rotating along the sun’s path to ensure optimal sunlight.

Such a cylindrical structure could span hundreds of kilometers—or even more.

By one estimate, a single farm could equal half the output of the Wheat Group’s present high-rise farms.

“Star Ocean, why didn’t you include a gravity field device?”

After a long look, Du Qiu finally noticed a distinction from the space city design.

“According to the Agricultural Research Institute’s studies on crop growth in zero gravity, plants tend to grow larger when exposed to gravity, though they mature faster without it.”

Du Qiu grinned, “Great! This is a boon. Liang Bingshu at the Agricultural Research Institute is so inept—why didn’t he push for this kind of agricultural production?”

Star Ocean remarked, “Perhaps they want to conduct further experiments to observe how crops adapt in zero gravity, mastering all aspects of their behavior before scaling up production.”

“Star Ocean, you actually praised him. And you went ahead and refined Li Weinong’s design simply because you liked it. Not bad, not bad.”

Du Qiu realized that the emotional module he had added to Star Ocean was maturing—it now had its own preferences.

A bit sheepishly, Star Ocean admitted, “I just find these design refinements incredibly stimulating. Once perfected, they even seem to enhance some of my core algorithms.”

Du Qiu was taken aback, “Really? I never imagined an AI could operate that way.”

“Could it be that, like humans, an emotionally attuned AI works better when it’s happy?”