The July 1610 sun beat down on Surat's beachfront complex, the Tapti River's sparkle a stark contrast to the dust of construction as Jai Vora stood in Kofi's blacksmith shop, the forge's heat waving like a mirage. Two days had passed since Jai's command to escalate the sabotage against the East India Company's Masulipatnam factory, with Maya's shadow unit—Maya, Arjun, Rahil, and Sanjay—already en route to intensify their disruptions. In Surat, Jai's focus shifted to a new innovation: the luxury horse cart. The Emperor System, his secret AI-spirit guide, buzzed: "Suspensions and rubber tires? Kid, you're turning Mughal carts into time machines. Nail this prototype, and nobles'll line up like beggars at a feast."
Jai, nine years old but sharp as a merchant's quill, unrolled his sketches for Kofi, the blacksmith's leather apron blackened from days of toil. "Kofi, we've got the model cart ready—woodworkers did a fine job on the frame, royal-looking with carved teak and gold inlays." Kofi wiped sweat from his brow, his voice rumbling like a forge bellow. "The suspensions? I forged the springs as you said—coiled steel, tempered hot. Stuts for stability, too. But this rubber…" He gestured to a pile of coagulated latex sheets. Jai's 2025 knowledge had guided the collection: workers harvested milky fluid from rubber trees near the coast, coagulating it with acid from citrus fruits to form solid sheets. "Reinforce with silk threads," Jai instructed, "mold into tires, vulcanize under heat and pressure. Light, durable—cushions every bump."
Kofi scratched his beard, his Blacksmithing skill igniting. "Vulcanize? Like baking dough in a furnace? We tested small batches—rubber hardens, bounces like nothing I've seen. But for tires?" Jai nodded, his grin quirky. "Exactly. Mount them on the wheels. The springs absorb shocks, the tires grip the road. Nobles'll pay thousands for carts that glide like clouds." Kofi laughed, clapping Jai's shoulder. "You're a mad genius, Jai. Let's test it."
The model cart, sleek with polished wood and Kofi's iron fittings, stood in the courtyard, its wheels rimmed with the new rubber tires. Jai hitched two horses, and Kofi climbed aboard. "Ready?" Jai called. Kofi nodded, and the cart rolled over a rutted path, the suspensions compressing smoothly, the tires gripping without jolt. "It works!" Kofi shouted, his voice booming. "Smooth as silk—no bumps!" The system pinged: "Prototype success! Nobles'll eat it up, kid. But roads are garbage—fix that, and you're golden."
Jai's eyes narrowed, the cart's test revealing a flaw: Surat's dirt roads, pitted and muddy, dulled the ride. "Kofi, it's good, but the roads are bad. We'll sell these carts, but first, I'm paving Surat—from Vora Heights to the restaurant, and key spots. Better roads mean better trade." Kofi grinned. "You're thinking big, Jai. Nobles'll love it." Jai's ambition burned: roads would make Vora indispensable, a step to crush the EIC.
That evening, Jai drafted a letter to Vikram Singh, sealing it with wax. "Dhruv, deliver this," he said, handing it over with gifts—Vora's Durable Thread clothes, glassware, and medicine vials. The letter read:
Dear Vikram Singh,
*Your gifts strengthened Vora's heart, as your friendship strengthens mine. The EIC creeps in Masulipatnam—factories, guards, cruelty to workers. We disrupt, but they persist. Now, a request: Seek the emperor's permission for Vora to pave Surat's roads—from our Heights to the port, and key paths. If he permits, ask for funds; we'll build them strong, boosting trade. If not, grant me leave to create a factory in Surat—spices packaged, sold abroad, undercutting the EIC. Vora's coin will fund it, but your voice in court is our key. If the emperor refuses, we'll do it alone—roads for the empire's good.
Your ally, Jai Vora
Dhruv bowed, his scar twitching. "It'll reach him fast, Jai. Vikram's eager for your rise." The system buzzed: "Roads and factories? You're reshaping India, kid. That EIC undercut? Genius. But Jahangir's not your puppet—play nice."
As couriers carried invitations for Vora Heights' completion, Jai stood by the Tapti, his empire's foundations solid. Roads would link his ventures, a web to trap the EIC.