The familiar scent of fresh ink and pressed paper filled Sharath's nostrils as he walked through the expanded printing halls of Riverbend, but today the atmosphere crackled with unprecedented urgency. The Universal Education Act had passed royal approval, and with it came the staggering challenge of producing educational materials for hundreds of thousands of students who would soon fill classrooms across the kingdom.
"Forty-seven thousand elementary readers," reported Master Jakob, consulting a ledger that grew thicker daily with orders from newly established schools. "Thirty-two thousand arithmetic texts, twenty-eight thousand writing primers, and requests for materials we haven't even designed yet—geography books, natural philosophy texts, even basic legal codes for older students."
Mira looked up from the production schedule that covered an entire wall, her face showing the strain of coordinating the kingdom's largest manufacturing undertaking since the road-building program. "At current production rates, we'll need eighteen months to fill just the initial orders. New schools are opening faster than we can supply them with books."
The magnitude of the challenge had become apparent within weeks of the Education Act's passage. Creating a single manuscript required months of careful work by skilled scribes. Even with printing presses, producing books in the quantities needed for universal education pushed the technology to its limits and beyond.
Sharath studied the wall-mounted production charts that tracked everything from paper consumption to ink usage to binding materials. The numbers told a story of exponential demand colliding with linear production capacity—a classic engineering problem that required systematic rather than incremental solutions.
"The bottleneck isn't the presses themselves," he observed, pointing to the workflow diagrams that mapped each step of the production process. "We're constrained by typesetting, proofreading, and the hand-binding of finished books. If we can systematize those processes..."
Brother Marcus approached with samples of experimental binding techniques developed by his team of craftsmen-turned-bookmakers. "We've reduced binding time by half using these new adhesive techniques borrowed from our leather-working guilds. Strong enough for classroom use, but simple enough for rapid production."
The solution emerged through weeks of intensive innovation that applied manufacturing principles to knowledge production. Standardized typefaces reduced setting time and eliminated errors. Mechanical binding systems replaced individual hand-work. Most importantly, modular design allowed different books to share common components—covers, binding materials, even certain sections of text.
"Consider the arithmetic texts," Sharath explained to the assembled production team, using wooden blocks to demonstrate his modular concept. "The basic numerical concepts remain constant, but examples can be adapted for different regions. Coastal schools learn counting with fish and ships, mountain schools with ore and timber. Same mathematical principles, locally relevant applications."
Lady Darsha arrived with the latest reports from the newly established Regional Education Coordinators—a network of administrators responsible for implementing the education program across the kingdom's diverse territories. "The demand continues accelerating," she announced, spreading territorial reports across the planning table. "Rural areas show particularly high enrollment, often exceeding our initial projections by thirty to fifty percent."
The unexpected rural enthusiasm for education had caught everyone by surprise. Sharath had anticipated resistance from farming communities where children's labor contributed significantly to family income. Instead, parents were making substantial sacrifices to ensure their children received schooling, recognizing education as the pathway to better opportunities.
"We're receiving requests for materials we never considered," Lady Darsha continued. "Adult education texts for parents who want to help their children with lessons. Advanced mathematics for village youth who've mastered basic arithmetic. Even technical manuals for teachers who need to understand the mechanical principles behind everyday tools and processes."
The printing operation expanded to fill adjacent buildings, then entire city blocks. New presses arrived from Henrik's workshops weekly, operated by workers trained in the systematic production methods that had revolutionized manufacturing. Quality control systems ensured that books produced in different facilities met consistent standards of accuracy and durability.
But Sharath's most important innovation was the development of "living textbooks"—educational materials designed for continuous improvement rather than static preservation. Using the communication networks that now connected every major settlement, teachers could report errors, suggest improvements, and share successful teaching techniques. These reports were compiled, analyzed, and incorporated into updated editions published quarterly.
"Knowledge improvement becomes as systematic as mechanical improvement," Sharath explained to Princess Elina during one of their evening walks through the expanding educational complex. "A teacher in the mountain provinces discovers that certain arithmetic examples work better for her students. She reports this through the communication network. Within months, teachers across the kingdom benefit from her insight."
The economic impact was immediate and dramatic. The printing industry had become one of the kingdom's largest employers, creating jobs not just in production but in writing, editing, illustration, and distribution. More significantly, the educational materials industry had stimulated innovations in related fields—papermaking, ink chemistry, binding techniques, and transportation logistics.
"We're not just producing books," Elina observed as they watched wagons loaded with educational materials departing for distant schools. "We're creating an infrastructure for continuous learning that extends far beyond formal education."
The breakthrough moment came when Master Corvain arrived with samples of the first student-written materials to emerge from the new schools. Children were creating their own books—collections of local stories, observations about their environment, even simple technical manuals describing tools and techniques they learned from their families.
"The students have become producers as well as consumers of knowledge," Corvain reported, his initial skepticism about universal education having transformed into enthusiastic support. "They're using their literacy to document and share knowledge that was previously transmitted only through oral tradition."
By year's end, the kingdom had achieved something unprecedented in human history: a literate population approaching fifty percent, with literacy rates climbing rapidly as each new class of students completed their education. More importantly, books had become common household items rather than precious rarities, transforming the relationship between citizens and knowledge.
Standing in the main printing hall as the night shift prepared for another round of production, Sharath felt the deep satisfaction that came from solving problems that seemed impossible until they were overcome. The challenge of producing books for everyone had driven innovations that would benefit society for generations to come.