It was Agustín I who stepped forward to restore order, bringing the weapons demonstration to a close. Before Lieutenant General Fernando departed, he was sent off with several dozen rifles—samples crafted during the development of the rifling machine. These were provided so the military could conduct independent verification.
"These are modified flintlock muskets with rifling grooves engraved. We're also planning to offer a service to cheaply retrofit existing military muskets. Of course, if you place an order for newly manufactured rifles, you'll receive a far superior version."
"Thank you, Your Highness. I look forward to it."
Though rifling was the most significant innovation, Eduardo planned to implement several other improvements he had long contemplated in a new production model.
Within a week, an official procurement order arrived from the government:
Retrofitting 5,000 used flintlock muskets
1,000 of the new Eduardo rifles
1,000,000 rounds of Eduardo ammunition
Deadline for delivery: April 1827
"A full year to deliver… generous, but even so, we must begin at once."
Even with such a window, delays would prove fatal. He intended to invest tens of thousands of pesos in initial capital, yet for now, all he possessed was a single rifling machine.
"Eduardo, perhaps it's time you dropped out? You weren't planning to become a soldier anyway. And, honestly, it doesn't suit your temperament."
"That may be true… but I've already reached my third year. If I don't graduate now, Father will be furious. Still, if I leave the academy only to become a weapons factory technician…"
"What are you talking about? You'd be the president. I'm thinking of naming the company Industria de Defensa Vega. I'll even give you a 10% stake. Considering the money I've already invested—and will continue to invest—I think it's fair I retain 90%."
Naturally, patent rights were part of the arrangement: Eduardo would retain 100% of the patent on his specialized ammunition and 20% on the rifling machine.
"What? I'm the president? I was content just being a weapons technician…"
Eduardo cried out in astonishment before his voice faltered, overwhelmed by emotion.
"There's no one more suited to lead a weapons company than you. And no one I trust more."
Eduardo had earned his reward.
"...Thank you. I'll do my best."
With a resolute look in his eyes, he continued,
"Now that I'll be withdrawing, I'm no longer your classmate. From this moment, I shall address you with the proper honorifics, Your Highness."
That escalated quickly.
Given the times, such deference was understandable—but friends were rare in this life, and he had no intention of demoting one of the few to the rank of mere subordinate.
"Look... when we're alone, just speak casually. Only use formalities around others. It's too cringe to bear otherwise."
"Hmm… if you insist."
"I've established the company, but it's still just a shell. Once you leave the academy, you'll be responsible for everything—start to finish. Think you can handle it?"
"I'll give it my all."
"I'll provide enough funding, so don't stress too much. First, hire the same engineers we worked with on the rifling machine, and start from there."
"Understood."
"Once the factory's running and rifle and ammo deliveries are secured, begin development on the breechloader we discussed."
"Got it."
"While you're at it, refine the artillery design as we planned, and begin preparations for mass production."
"...Will do."
The tasks were many—but none beyond reach.
'I'll make you rich, so get ready to hustle.'
He had experience, and so did the engineers—men who'd previously crafted guns and ammunition. There was little cause for worry on that front.
'Still, this covers the army's weapon system. What about the navy? I know a bit about ports, but ships? Not a clue.'
All he knew about naval history was that wooden ships-of-the-line were eventually replaced by ironclad dreadnoughts, which rendered all previous ships obsolete—and later, that aircraft carriers surpassed even those behemoths.
In short, he was utterly unqualified to interfere.
'No matter how strong the army is, without a navy we're at Europe's mercy. Even in real history, the French shelled the ports with impunity.'
There was no other choice—foreign expertise had to be imported. Britain would be ideal, France acceptable, and even the Dutch or Spanish might suffice. If all else failed, America could be considered.
'The navy won't just need tens of thousands—it'll devour millions of pesos. Let's focus on making money first.'
If he could bring in talent and maintain steady investment, perhaps, someday, they could catch up to those imperialist bullies.
He could only hope
June 1826
Exactly one year had passed since the California Gold Rush had begun in earnest. At last, a letter arrived from the agent entrusted with operations in California.
'Took them longer than expected. I was beginning to worry.'
With a practiced slice of the letter opener, he broke the seal and unfolded the message from Hernando in Sacramento.
Skipping over pleasantries and ornate flourishes, he found the core of the report:
[With the funds Your Highness provided, I commenced gold mine development in Sacramento and simultaneously constructed numerous commercial and lodging facilities.
The gold rush began later than expected, but as you foresaw, an overwhelming number of miners have begun to flood the area.
Following Your Highness's instructions, I secured only those areas with high yield and profitable seams, while turning a blind eye to the rest.]
'You need some actual gold to be found, or no one else will come. A little leniency is necessary.'
It was bait—to draw in the miners.
[The restaurants, shops, and inns we built are packed to capacity. Agricultural tools, mining gear, jeans, and tents—every product under Your Highness's brand is selling like wildfire.
Though miners employed at our gold mines receive 2 pesos a day—double the average wage—half of it is spent at our own facilities, thus returning to us.
These profits are being reinvested into expanding mining operations and constructing more commercial buildings.]
Levi Strauss had become a millionaire just by selling tents and jeans. And here, his own companies were supplying nearly everything the miners needed. The money was flowing so freely, it almost felt like printing it.
[We are also continuing efforts to encourage miners to settle and participate in frontier development.
A considerable number have already done so, and our stockpiled land is running low. I seek Your Highness's guidance on whether we should acquire more.]
'Already running out? I recall buying a vast amount back when it was less than a peso per ten acres.'
Land prices must be rising. Ideally, like Stephen Austin in Texas, he too would have liked to invite settlers and collect payment—but that would only draw the ire of conservative factions.
'Guess I'll have to use my own funds to buy more.'
Though frontier development did not directly enrich him, it benefited the nation as a whole.
While one might argue that scattering the population across the countryside could hinder industrialization, self-sufficient homesteads brought their own advantages.
The plots assigned to settlers were too large for even a family of three to eight—spanning two generations—to fully farm. Yet those same families would yield more crops than they could consume and owe no taxes for five years.
A surplus of food and a shortage of labor. A perfect formula for rapid population growth.
'This is an investment. A strategy to multiply the population quickly. The children of today's settlers will marry and raise the third generation before long.'
At this time, Mexico's population hovered between 6 and 6.5 million. The United States? Between 9.5 and 10 million. That gap might not seem vast—but in GDP, the U.S. outpaced Mexico by a factor of 3.5.
By 1846, during the Mexican-American War, the difference would become staggering: Mexico at 7.6 million, the U.S. at 21 million.
'And the GDP? Practically a different universe.'
The thought alone inspired dread.
Finishing the letter, he found that Alfonso's logistics and passenger company had entered operations in Sacramento—and that a large number of indigenous people were now migrating into California.
'Alfonso's managing well as expected… but the natives? That's concerning.'
This could provoke the ire of landowners who treated tenant farmers as their own property. Should their rage reach a boiling point, they might exert political pressure to halt the gold rush entirely.
'Before that happens, I need to complete the mechanical harvester and improve agricultural productivity.'
A second letter arrived from Isidro Solis, overseeing development in nearby San Francisco. Its contents were largely similar.
He sent both agents words of praise and encouragement, instructing them to continue purchasing land and investing in shops and mines.
'Feels strangely empty.'
The warehouse where he and Eduardo had developed the rifling machine now stood hollow.
Clap.
He struck his hands together once, alone, as if to ignite his own resolve.
"Now then—let's begin in earnest."
What he sought to create was a mechanical harvester: specifically, the kind invented by Cyrus McCormick in 1831.
Of course, he knew only the concept, not the intricate details.
'Still, it's only five years early. I should be able to develop it.'
This machine, known as the Reaper, was said to replace up to five farmhands—slashing labor costs and exponentially increasing harvest speeds.
A revolution in productivity.
By the time McCormick died in 1884, over 100,000 reapers had been sold. For a non-consumer good, that was an astonishing figure—more than enough to say it transformed American agriculture.
'If it's too expensive, landlords won't adopt it. To them, people are cheaper. Thankfully, the Reaper wasn't that costly.'
Unlike the rifling machine—reliant on steam power and vast quantities of steel—the Reaper needed neither steam nor excessive metal.
Some wheels, gears, blades, and a platform—all connected with modest amounts of iron—would suffice.
He planned to attempt mass production using steam power only once the prototype was complete and costs needed further lowering.
'It sold for about $120 in the 1840s. I'll aim to match that price in mass production.'
Glancing over the preliminary schematics he had drafted during spare moments, he picked up a sheet of iron and got to work.