Delhi, Prime Minister's Private Study, South Block, April 2nd, 1949
The morning sun filtered through the drawn curtains, casting long shadows across Arjun's study. He had not slept all night. His mind, usually precise and methodical like a well-oiled machine, had been churning nonstop since yesterday's meeting with Planning Minister Pant.
He stared at a blueprint on his desk. A high-precision machine tool, decades ahead of its time. He knew every specification, every tolerance, every critical measurement. He had provided the designs himself, along with comprehensive manuals.
But Pant's report kept echoing in his head, refusing to be ignored.
The Ashoka Group's Layer 1 facilities could build prototypes. That was fine. But their precision remained stubbornly inferior to British machines. Why? Because what they had was limited to civilian-grade equipment, nowhere near good enough for military applications. The gap was enormous.
The truth was harsh, and Arjun could not ignore it anymore. His future blueprints and comprehensive manuals were not a magic bullet.
Sure, they gave his engineers maybe seventy or eighty percent of what they needed. The what and the why were covered pretty well. But they were missing something crucial, something he had stupidly underestimated.
They did not have the subtle, practical tricks that only came from years of hands-on experience. All those accumulated insights, all those countless failed experiments, all those intuitive shortcuts that an experienced engineer picked up after decades of actually building things and watching them fail in interesting ways.
It was like the difference between someone who had read every book about surgery versus someone who had actually performed a thousand operations. Both had knowledge. But only one had real mastery.
Only one knew what to do when something went wrong in ways the textbooks never mentioned, when the patient started bleeding in unexpected places or when the anatomy turned out to be slightly different than the diagrams showed.
When Arjun first started planning all this, he had believed that with his blueprints, India's natural genius, and his demanding timelines, they could compress decades of learning into just a few years. Speed-run technological development like it was some kind of game.
He had been wrong. Seriously, embarrassingly wrong.
He had underestimated how stubborn technological progress could be. There was this enormous inertia built into any nation's technological base, this grinding resistance to rapid change.
Bridging the gap between brilliant theory and practical industrial precision was a slow, difficult process that could not be rushed no matter how smart your people were or how good your blueprints looked on paper.
Going the current route, trying to learn everything through self-study and reverse engineering from static manuals, would take way too long. Maybe ten years longer than he had planned. Maybe fifteen for some of the really critical fields.
India could not afford that kind of delay. Not with China breathing down their necks, not with Pakistan constantly looking for weaknesses, not with the Cold War heating up and everyone choosing sides.
The bottleneck became really painful when Arjun thought about military programs, especially aerospace. His dreams for the Agni program were massive. Missile engines, jet propulsion, advanced fighter aircraft.
India had to develop its own jet engines, its own military aviation industry. But the gap here was absolutely enormous, almost laughable. India had virtually zero experience building modern military aircraft or advanced propulsion systems.
His memories brought back all the crucial figures who had led aerospace development in the original timeline. Brilliant minds, pioneers who had built India's space and aviation programs from nothing.
The problem was that those engineers were still children right now. Or they had not even been born yet. The people who were supposed to pioneer India's aerospace future were decades away from being useful.
Arjun scanned through his internal archive, that vast repository of future knowledge packed into his head. Germany had been the absolute world leader in jet propulsion and rocket technology during World War II.
Their engineers were brilliant, experienced, and they understood practical implementation in ways nobody else did.
But here was the problem, the massive frustrating problem. All of Germany's top aerospace minds had already been scooped up by the victorious powers after the war ended.
The Americans had Operation Paperclip. The Soviets had Operation Osoaviakhim. All the really crucial figures like von Braun, von Kármán, Sänger, Lippisch, they were already working securely for either the US or USSR. Most had been recruited by 1945, and the rest were long gone by now.
There was nobody left. Nobody who could lead India into the aerospace future.
Nobody who could teach his Ashoka Group engineers all the unwritten rules of jet design, all the practical nuances of supersonic flight, all those thousand small tricks that transformed a theoretical blueprint into a working, deadly machine.
For the first time since starting this whole project, Arjun felt genuine frustration bordering on despair. He had planned everything so carefully. He had anticipated so many problems and worked out solutions.
But the human element, the irreplaceable genius of a specific experienced mind, was proving to be a bottleneck he could not simply design his way around.
Just when the doubt was really starting to creep in and make him question everything, a name flickered in the back of his memory. Like a light bulb suddenly turning on in a dark room.
A German aerospace engineer. A brilliant aerodynamicist specializing in supersonic wing design and transonic flow. Not one of the absolute top-tier names that got poached immediately, but still a crucial figure with exactly the kind of experience India needed.
Arjun's future memory confirmed what he was thinking. This individual was highly talented and had somehow managed to slip through the initial dragnet of Allied and Soviet recruitment. He had not been recruited by either the US or USSR yet, which meant there might still be time.
According to what Arjun remembered, this engineer was currently working at the Royal Aircraft Establishment in Farnborough, England. But he was planning to leave for the United States soon because the British had not given him much support for his research after the war ended.
They had treated him like just another captured German scientist, useful but not special.
The name was Hans Multhopp.
"That is it," Arjun said out loud, slamming his hand down on the desk with renewed energy. Multhopp was the missing piece. The architect who could bridge the gap between theoretical knowledge and practical mastery. Someone who could provide all those shortcuts and hands-on training that his blueprints alone simply could not deliver.
This would require direct intervention and careful manipulation of human factors, which was much more delicate than ordering around a tank division or drafting a new law. There was no guarantee Multhopp would agree to come to India.
After all, the Americans had probably already started the process of recruiting him. But if Arjun played his cards exactly right, if he offered exactly the right incentive at exactly the right moment, Multhopp would agree.
He knew precisely what could attract someone like Multhopp to India. Demonstrate one groundbreaking piece of research that had not been discovered yet. Something revolutionary. Something like the Area Rule theory.
Arjun pressed the intercom button, his voice carrying real urgency. "Please ask Foreign Minister Menon to come meet me immediately. This is urgent."
Menon arrived within an hour. He was fresh from his diplomatic tour of neighboring countries and still coordinating RAW deployments in those regions. When he walked into Arjun's study, he looked genuinely confused.
What could possibly be so urgent that it could not wait? Had something serious happened while he was busy planning covert operations?
"Krishna ji," Arjun began, his voice tight with an urgency Menon had rarely heard before. "I have a new absolute priority mission for your Ministry. There is a German aerospace engineer named Hans Multhopp.
My intelligence sources indicate he is currently working in Farnborough, England. I want you to locate him discreetly and recruit him to work for us. We need him in India as soon as possible."
Arjun leaned forward, his intensity ratcheting up. "This is the highest priority, Menon ji. The entire future of our Agni division, our complete aerospace program, depends on getting this one man. Do absolutely whatever is necessary to make this happen. Cost is no object.
He must be brought to India as quickly as humanly possible. I am also sending one of our most capable aeronautical engineers with you. He can handle the technical discussions if Multhopp initially refuses."
Menon listened with his usual calm professional demeanor, but his eyes showed clear surprise at the sheer intensity of Arjun's demand for this single, relatively obscure German engineer.
This was honestly the first time he had ever seen the Prime Minister this worked up about recruiting one specific person.
"I understand completely, Prime Minister. This will be top priority. I will mobilize both our diplomatic assets and covert resources. We will locate this Multhopp and bring him to India. Is there any particular incentive you want me to offer?"
"Offer him absolutely anything he desires, Krishna ji," Arjun replied, his voice carrying a chilling certainty that made Menon pay very close attention.
"Promise him complete academic freedom and unparalleled resources, a genuine opportunity to build an entire nation's aerospace future from the ground up. Promise him...a real place in our history."
Arjun's expression hardened. "Make absolutely sure he understands this is not just about taking a new job. This is about shaping the destiny of the entire subcontinent. But remember, do not make it look like we are desperate for him.
Make it look like intrigue and serious commitment. Show him exactly how much we are willing to put on the line to get him here."
"You can leave all of that to me, Prime Minister," Menon said with a confident nod.
Arjun leaned back as Menon left. After a few minutes to collect his thoughts, he called for Dr. V.M. Ghante.
Delhi, Ashoka Group's Covert Facility (Agni Division), Later that day
Dr. V.M. Ghante was one of India's leading aeronautical experts. He currently served as lead engineer in the Agni division, part of Ashoka Group's Layer 3 operations.
He worked in a highly secure facility at an undisclosed location, completely immersed in the complex designs and theoretical manuals that Arjun had provided.
These were blueprints for advanced jet propulsion and missile technology that stretched even his considerable intellect to its absolute limits. He had only just begun to truly understand the monumental leap in knowledge these documents represented.
The summons to meet Prime Minister Mehra personally, bypassing even Minister Pant, was both immediate and highly unusual. Ghante was a man who lived and breathed flight dynamics and aeronautical theory.
When he arrived at the Prime Minister's office, he carried a mixture of professional curiosity and genuine apprehension.
Arjun greeted him with directness that quickly put Ghante at ease. "I am sorry for calling you here on such short notice, Ghante ji, but your work in the Agni division is absolutely critical. I trust the blueprints and manuals we provided are proving challenging?"
Ghante nodded, his face showing an expression that was almost like awe. "Prime Minister, these documents are completely revolutionary. The concepts for jet propulsion, for both subsonic and supersonic flight, they are literally decades ahead of current global understanding."
He paused, choosing his words carefully. "My team and I are still working through the theoretical analysis. But the practical application, the actual path from these designs to working prototypes, and the amount of experience needed to understand all the subtle nuances of aerodynamics is absolutely immense."
Arjun smiled slightly, but it was satisfied rather than happy. "Indeed, Ghante ji. And that is exactly why I summoned you. I believe I have found a solution to bridge that experience gap."
He reached across his desk and handed Ghante a set of carefully bound papers with no identifying marks. These were completely distinct from the larger manuals Ghante already possessed.
"This material represents original research. A theory that can be called as the Area Rule."
Ghante took the papers, his brow furrowing with intense curiosity. He began reading the first page, then the second. As he continued, his eyes gradually widened with surprise and then amazement.
His heartbeat quickened the more he read. The mathematical elegance of it, the sheer groundbreaking simplicity of the core concept.
The idea that a supersonic aircraft's cross-sectional area distribution should vary smoothly along its entire length to reduce drag. It was like a revelation hitting him.
This was a fundamental principle that would completely revolutionize aircraft design, yet it was utterly unheard of in 1949.
Nobody in the world, at least nobody he knew of, had conceived of this concept with such crystal clarity, let alone reduced it to precise mathematical formulas that actually worked.
Ghante looked up, his face pale with genuine astonishment. "Prime Minister, this research is absolutely groundbreaking! Completely revolutionary! This is the missing piece we have been looking for, the fundamental principle for truly efficient supersonic aircraft design! Where on earth did this come from?"
His mind was spinning with questions about how the Prime Minister could have gotten his hands on something so incredibly advanced, so utterly secret.
Arjun's gaze was steady when he looked directly at Ghante. "Like I told you before, Ghante ji, the origins of this research are completely classified. But I can guarantee you its scientific truth is absolutely verified.
I want you to study this research thoroughly and make sure you understand every single concept mentioned in these papers."
His voice became firm as he laid out Ghante's new assignment. "The reason I am showing you this is that Foreign Minister Menon will be leaving very shortly for England on a priority mission to recruit a highly reputed German aerospace engineer named Hans Multhopp.
Multhopp is a brilliant mind who specializes in supersonic aerodynamics. He possesses invaluable practical experience in advanced jet design from the war years. You, Ghante ji, will be accompanying Minister Menon on this mission."
Ghante blinked several times, looking genuinely confused. What did any of this have to do with him personally?
Seeing the confusion, Arjun explained further. "Your specific task will be to help recruit this Multhopp if Krishna ji's initial diplomatic offer does not convince him."
"When that moment comes, Ghante ji, you will reveal this Area Rule theory to him. Not the complete theory, not every single detail, but just enough of the basic concept to give him a clear idea of what we are talking about.
Just enough to let his brilliant mind grasp the revolutionary potential of the research he would be working on here in India if he joins us."
Arjun's smile was cold and completely confident. "You will then ask him directly whether he is willing to pursue the absolute cutting-edge limits of aeronautical development, to literally define the future of flight itself, working with us here in India.
You will present India as a nation that truly understands genuine innovation and is willing to support it completely.
This Area Rule research will be your final, completely unbeatable argument in the recruitment process. It will serve as definitive proof of India's commitment to advanced research and of the unique future we can offer someone with his talents."
Ghante stood there gripping the papers detailing the Area Rule theory, feeling the immense weight of this new mission settling on his shoulders. He was not just a scientist anymore.
He had suddenly become a crucial covert diplomat wielding the future itself as a bargaining chip in international recruitment.