Chapter 706 - 330: Pennsylvania, Irreplaceable

Deep in the Allegheny Mountains, an abandoned open-pit coal mine had been filled in.

It was once a scar on the face of Pennsylvania, where black coal ash covered everything and acidic mine water flowed through the ravines.

But now, the area had been repaved with thousands of tons of concrete, and massive steel-frame structures were rising from the ground.

Dozens of tower cranes rotated under the gray sky, their mechanical grinding echoing throughout the valley.

This was Site One of the Pennsylvania Computing Power Special Zone.

A massive, temporary white tent stood in the center of the leveled, barren mining area.

The tent was surrounded by broadcast vans bearing the logos of various stations. Reporters from CNN, Fox News, and the Associated Press set up their cameras and long lenses in the mud.

Satellite dishes pointed toward the sky, and cables snaked haphazardly across the ground.

Outside the police cordon stood over a thousand witnesses.

Most were blue-collar workers and mining families from the surrounding districts, wearing heavily worn jackets and baseball caps printed with the logos of various Unions.

These people didn’t even know what was happening inside. All they knew was that a setup this grand meant a new project was starting, and as long as a project was starting, they would have jobs.

Inside the tent, a long signing table was draped in heavy, dark blue velvet. Seated behind it was a group of professional elites who dictated the flow of the nation’s resources.

Sterling, the representative from the National Energy Association, sat squarely in the center, as was his due.

Flanking him were Red Scassa, President of Constellation Energy; Julian McComb, CEO of NRG Energy; and other energy merchants.

The giants of the pharmaceutical industry sat in rows on the opposite side.

Adrian Selwyn, a special advisor to Pfizer, was flipping through the details of the contract in his hands.

Diane Crawford, the Chief Technology Officer of Merck, sat beside him.

These pharmaceutical companies had been forcibly roped into this venture by Leo.

They despised Leo’s pharmaceutical legislation but coveted the computing resources available here.

Modern drug development no longer relied solely on test tube reactions in a lab; it involved hundreds of millions of protein folding simulations, massive gene sequencing, and clinical data analysis.

Every one of these tasks required an astronomical amount of computational resources.

Elsewhere in America, they had to endure fluctuating electricity prices and tedious carbon emission audits.

But in Pennsylvania, Leo had promised them an uninterrupted energy supply and priority access to the Computing Power Special Zone’s resources.

The tech giants from Silicon Valley sat on the other side of the pharmaceutical representatives.

David Chen, Vice President of Infrastructure at Google.

Kevin Scott, Global Head of Energy Strategy at Microsoft.

These were the new-money tech execs who usually spent their days in Palo Alto wearing hoodies and drinking cold brew coffee.

Now, they were all dressed in extremely formal dark suits, sitting bolt upright with expressions even more tense than the energy tycoons.

Because they were facing unprecedented existential pressure.

The demand for computing power was growing exponentially, while California’s power grid was on the verge of collapse, and the independent grid in Texas was as fragile as paper in the face of a blizzard.

They desperately needed a stable safe harbor.

Governor William Saint Cloud stood at the center of the signing table.

He was wearing a relatively plain, light-colored suit today, but the bright pink silk pocket square in his breast pocket still betrayed his aesthetic tastes.

He glanced at the temporary tent with some disdain and complained in a low voice to Bernard beside him, "Couldn’t we have found a more decent place? Like the Philadelphia Art Museum? Signing here, the mud is about to splash onto my pant cuffs."

Bernard reminded him in a whisper, "Governor, this location represents industry and pragmatism. That’s the main theme of our publicity campaign."

"Not a shred of aesthetic sense."

Bernard added, "This was also Mayor Wallace’s idea."

William pursed his lips and said no more.

He picked up the pen on the table, looked at the men before him who held the nation’s economic lifeblood in their hands, and put on the charming smile he had practiced countless times.

Then, with a flourish, William signed his name on the contract with flamboyant calligraphy.

He was followed by Sterling, Kevin Scott, David Chen...

Camera flashes flickered wildly, capturing the historic moment.

This was a marriage that crossed industry lines.

Old energy, new technology, and traditional medicine—three behemoths that normally wouldn’t see eye to eye—were being forged together by mutual interest.

’Is this the future Leo wants?’ Ethan asked himself in a low voice, standing below the stage.

Sarah watched the stage. "Data centers are the steel mills of the new era," she said. "They consume enormous amounts of energy and produce enormous value."

"Leo is just retelling a story from a hundred years ago. Except this time, we’re not burning coal; we’re burning data."

After the signing ceremony was complete, William cleared his throat, picked up the microphone, and said only, "Ladies and gentlemen."

Then he turned and handed the microphone to Leo, who was standing behind him.

"Alright, I’m done with the pleasantries."

William flashed a brilliant smile at the cameras.

"I know you don’t want to hear a playboy like me drone on. You want to hear from the person who’s actually getting things done."

"So, now, let’s turn the stage over to the man actually in charge of this project, the man who dug all of this out of the ruins."

"My friend, the hero of Pittsburgh."

"Mayor Leo Wallace."

William led the applause. He knew his role perfectly.

He was the mascot, there to liven up the atmosphere. Saying too much would only annoy people.

Leo took the microphone from William and walked to the podium.

"Thank you, Governor."

Leo first nodded to William, giving his nominal superior the proper respect.

Then, he turned to the crowd below.

His voice, amplified by the sound system, echoed layer upon layer through the desolate valley.

The microphone volume was turned up, and the sound system emitted a slight HUM.

In the audience were not just the bigwigs, but also the workers, miners, engineers, and opportunistic young people who had flocked from the surrounding areas.

Thousands of pairs of eyes were fixed on him.

On this land that once represented decay, the people were waiting for an answer.

Leo placed both hands on the podium.

"Seventy years ago."

Leo began to speak, his voice steady and incredibly powerful.

"When people mentioned Pennsylvania, what did they think of?"

"They thought of smokestacks, of fire, of flowing molten steel. They thought of the backbone of this country."

"We built the tanks, the aircraft carriers, the skeleton of the Empire State Building."

"We defined that bygone era."

Leo paused, his gaze sweeping over the weathered faces in the crowd.

"But then, someone slapped a label on us."

"The Rust Belt."

"They said we were old, dirty, and obsolete. They said the future was on the West Coast, in Silicon Valley, in the lines of code written in office buildings."

"They said we were only fit to watch over our ruins, collect welfare checks, and slowly rot away."

A stir went through the crowd. This was a thorn in everyone’s side.

"But they were wrong."

Leo’s voice suddenly rose.

"They forgot a fundamental fact. Or rather, they forgot their history."

"1946."

Leo held up one finger.

"Right here in Pennsylvania, at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. That year, the first general-purpose electronic computer in human history, the ENIAC, was born."

"It was a thirty-ton beast that took up 170 square meters, and its power consumption was so great that when it was turned on, all the lights in Philadelphia would dim."

"But that was the beginning."

Leo stared at the representatives in the front rows.

"The internet we’re so proud of now, the intricate smartphones in our hands, the artificial intelligence everyone’s talking about—the origin of it all is right here, in Pennsylvania."

"We are the starting point of the computing age."

"We are not the outcasts abandoned by the times. We are the ancestors of this digital world."

The crowd fell silent.

Many were hearing this piece of history for the first time. A long-suppressed sense of pride began to stir in their veins.

"Now, the world has come full circle, right back to where it started."

Leo pointed to the massive construction site behind him.

"Those geniuses in Silicon Valley discovered that code can’t run in a vacuum. Artificial intelligence needs computing power, computing power needs energy, and energy needs industry."

"They’ve come full circle only to realize they can’t do without us."

"They can’t do without our natural gas, our nuclear power plants, or the immense energy buried beneath this land."

Leo’s voice grew impassioned.

"So, standing here today, I want to tell the whole world, and I want to tell every single one of you."

"Tear off that damned Rust Belt label."

"From this day forward, not only will we continue to forge steel and generate power, we will also host this nation’s brain."

Leo pointed to the frames of the data centers under construction.

"In the future, that site will run the world’s most complex molecular drug simulations, searching for a cure for cancer for our children."

"It will train the most advanced artificial intelligence models, which will determine the direction of technology for the next decade."

"And all of this will be driven by Pennsylvania’s power, built by Pennsylvania’s workers, and hosted on Pennsylvania’s land."

"We are not abandoning our traditions; we are upgrading them."

"Our coal will become computing power. Our natural gas will become intelligence."

"We are going to prove one thing."

Leo clenched his fist, addressing the sky, the earth, and everyone present.

"Pennsylvania is, and always will be, this nation’s Keystone."

"In the industrial age, and in the digital age."

"We will always lead."

"We will always be irreplaceable!"

The moment the speech ended, there was no immediate explosion of cheers.

The crowd seemed stunned by the grand narrative.

「A few seconds later.」

An old miner took off his hat and waved it forcefully.

"Pennsylvania is irreplaceable!" he shouted.

Then, the wave of sound erupted.

"Pennsylvania!"

"Wallace!"

The cheers swept through the valley like a tsunami.

Sterling sat in the front row, watching the young man on stage.

"He sure can talk," Sterling said to McComb beside him. "He almost had me believing we’re saving the world, not just selling electricity."

McComb watched the frenzied crowd, his expression complex.

"He’s given these people a new dream," McComb said in a low voice. "A dream more captivating than just having a job and getting a raise. He’s made them feel like they’re back at the center of the world."

"As long as he can keep this dream alive," Sterling said with a smile, "we won’t have to worry about selling our electricity."

Leo stood on stage, looking down at the roiling sea of people.

He could feel it—that power called confidence was returning.

He had to make these people believe that they were still important, still valuable.

’Mr. President,’ Leo said in his mind, ’History is always strikingly similar, isn’t it?’

’Yes.’ Roosevelt’s voice carried a trace of nostalgia. ’When I was building dams in the Tennessee Valley, this is what I told them, too.’

’Electricity is civilization. Industry is freedom.’

’You’ve done well, Leo.’

’You’ve given this old house a new heart.’

Leo turned and walked off the stage.

The roar of the construction site resumed.

It was the rhythm of a new era.

At that moment, Pennsylvania’s transformation had officially begun.