Laying the Foundation for the 811 Institute

Three days after Sheng Lan said those words, they were validated again in another way in the third conference hall of the Ministry of Defense Science and Industry.

The conference hall was not large. Fourteen people sat around a rectangular table.

The deputy minister of defense chaired the meeting. Three military representatives sat on the left, while five executives from the military-industrial system sat on the right.

Lin Yuan sat at the east end of the long table. Before him were only a projection terminal and an untouched glass of water.

Sheng Lan sat in the observer section one row behind him, a paper memorandum resting on her knees.

"The proposal for establishing the 811 Special Tactical Research Institute has been distributed to everyone." The deputy minister chairing the meeting spoke at an unhurried pace, his gaze sweeping across the table. "Director Lin, please begin your presentation."

Lin Yuan pressed the projection terminal.

Three lines of text appeared on the screen.

Positioning: A cross-department military-industrial integration platform.

Directly subordinate to: Special Equipment Bureau.

Objective: Establish an independent East Asian mobile suit technology system.

"As you can see," Lin Yuan said quietly, "the 811 Institute is not a materials laboratory, not a software verification center, and not a project office that exists only in name. It is East Asia's first comprehensive research and development institution centered on an independent MS technology path."

He switched to the second page.

"Everyone here understands the problems in East Asia's military-industrial system better than I do. Materials belong to the Materials Bureau, energy to the Power Institute, munitions to the Ordnance Group, and control systems to the Electronics Research Institute. Five departments, five sets of standards, each pursuing its own technical path. The information barriers between projects are thicker than the enemy's defensive lines."

A middle-aged man on the right coughed softly.

Luo Qiming.

A member of the National Defense Committee and East Asia's coordinating director for United Army technical cooperation projects.

"Director Lin." He took over the conversation. "I have read your proposal carefully. The idea is very good, but there are several practical problems."

Lin Yuan looked at him.

"Please, go ahead."

"First, the notion of an independent MS technology path is too ambitious. East Asia's foundation in the MS field is far behind that of the Atlantic Federation and PLANT. Starting from scratch to catch up will take decades. The 811 Institute's five-year plan is overly aggressive."

"Second." Luo Qiming turned a page of the proposal. "Reassigning core personnel across departments involves the key technical forces of the Materials Bureau, Power Institute, Ordnance Group, and Electronics Research Institute. These departments are currently responsible for seventeen contract manufacturing projects and six technical verification tasks under the United Army framework. Pulling personnel away will directly affect fulfillment of existing contracts."

He paused, then looked up.

"Third, and most importantly, East Asia's position in technical cooperation within the United Army system was not easily earned. If we openly pursue an independent MS project, the Atlantic Federation will interpret it as a signal of technological decoupling. Everyone here can extrapolate the consequences for themselves."

Several people in the conference hall nodded slightly.

Lin Yuan did not immediately refute him.

His fingers tapped the tabletop twice as he switched the projection to the third page.

A table appeared on the screen.

The dates ran from C.E. 52 to C.E. 70. The vertical axis listed East Asia's technical cooperation applications submitted to the Atlantic Federation, while the horizontal axis showed approval results.

Eighteen years.

Forty-seven applications.

Approval rate: 4 percent.

"Everyone." Lin Yuan's voice did not change. "This is the list of East Asia's high-end military-industrial cooperation applications submitted under the United Army technical cooperation framework over the past eighteen years. Forty-seven applications. Two were approved. One was a level-three maintenance authorization for the Dagger MS, and the other was a secondary development license for shipborne communications modules."

The air in the conference hall became very still.

Lin Yuan switched to the next page.

A new table appeared.

This time, it showed East Asia's military expenditure and manpower contributions under the United Army framework.

"During the same period, East Asia bore 32 percent of the United Army's military funding, provided 27 percent of its logistical support personnel, and contributed 41 percent of its basic industrial capacity."

He set the projection pen on the table.

"Director Luo says East Asia's technical cooperation position was not easily earned. Then I would like to ask: what exactly is that position? Spending the most, contributing the most, and receiving the least technology. Is that a position, or merely a seat?"

Luo Qiming's expression shifted slightly.

"Director Lin, international cooperation is about the overall security framework. We cannot only calculate individual gains and losses—"

"The overall security framework." Lin Yuan cut him off. "Director Luo, have you read last year's exercise assessment report from the Alaska Defense Line?"

Luo Qiming did not answer.

"East Asian forces were deployed at the outermost perimeter of the line. Their equipment consisted of standard United Army Daggers and MAU-M3 infantry carriers. The opposing force in the exercise used ZAFT-standard Ginn-type MS units. The exchange ratio was seven to one, and the simulated East Asian casualty rate was 43 percent."

Lin Yuan looked around the long table.

"Forty-three percent. Everyone, our soldiers hold weapons discarded by others, stand on defensive lines drawn by others, and take bullets for other people's strategic objectives. That is the overall security framework Director Luo speaks of."

Among the military representatives on the left, a middle-aged man who looked like a major general set down his teacup with a muffled thud.

It was He Changying, commander of the Space Force.

"Director Lin." Luo Qiming spoke faster. "Your data is certainly striking, but establishing an independent technical path and withdrawing from the United Army system are two different matters. If the 811 Institute is positioned too highly, it will be interpreted as a political signal—"

"Director Luo." Lin Yuan's voice remained steady, yet every word was crisp. "The 811 Institute's position is my business. How the Atlantic Federation interprets it is their business. East Asia's national defense direction will be decided by East Asia itself."

"You are too young. There are some things—"

"If Director Luo's opinion is that the 811 Institute should be downgraded into a materials verification center, then I can tell you this: that proposal will not pass."

Luo Qiming narrowed his eyes.

"What makes you so certain?"

Lin Yuan did not answer.

He withdrew the projection pen, shut down the terminal, and leaned back in his chair.

The deputy minister chairing the meeting glanced to both sides, about to speak and ease the tension.

Just then, a side door at the back of the observer section was gently pushed open.

An elderly man in a black Zhongshan suit walked in. He was not tall, but his back was ramrod straight.

A secretary carrying a briefcase followed behind him.

Everyone in the conference hall turned to look in that direction.

Luo Qiming closed his mouth.

The old man did not sit down.

He stood beside the side door, swept his gaze across the table, and finally let it settle on Lin Yuan.

He paused for two seconds.

Then he turned to the deputy minister chairing the meeting. His voice was not loud, but every word traveled through the conference hall.

"I have read the proposal."

The deputy minister half rose from his seat.

"Elder Lin—"

"Let him try."

The three words landed.

No one in the conference hall spoke.

Lin Dingyue turned and walked out through the side door. The secretary followed, and the door closed again.

Luo Qiming's fingers trembled once against the tabletop.

The deputy minister cleared his throat.

"Everyone, you have all heard Comrade Lin Dingyue's opinion. The 811 Institute establishment proposal will enter the formal approval process. All departments are requested to cooperate with personnel secondment arrangements. Any objections must be submitted in writing within three days."

The meeting ended.

Sheng Lan followed Lin Yuan out of the conference hall, turning her memorandum to a fresh page.

The other attendees dispersed through the corridor in groups of two or three. Some gazes lingered briefly on Lin Yuan's back.

"Director, the Spark Data will arrive tomorrow. Xu Yanqiu's team is already on standby."

"Mm."

"Should we add Luo Qiming's performance today to the relationship map for tracking?"

"No need." Lin Yuan did not slow his pace. "Every word he said today, Sheng Lan—did you notice his phrasing?"

Sheng Lan considered it for a moment.

"He said the Atlantic Federation would interpret it as a political signal. Not that it might, but that it would."

"Exactly." Lin Yuan reached the elevator and pressed the button. "An East Asian official knows the Atlantic Federation's reaction patterns better than East Asia itself. He is not making a guess. He is relaying a message."

The elevator doors opened.

The two stepped inside.

"Give me two weeks," Sheng Lan said. "I will get the full chain of his financial dealings with the Atlantic Federation."

"No rush." Lin Yuan watched the floor numbers descend. "First, let the 811 Institute put up its framework and get Xu Yanqiu's Taogang Alloy data into the lab for verification. Once we have our first finished armor plate, Luo Qiming will no longer matter."

The elevator reached the underground level, and the doors opened.

Sheng Lan stepped out, then looked back at Lin Yuan.

"Director, did you arrange for Elder Lin to come today?"

Lin Yuan stepped out of the elevator, his military boots striking the corridor floor.

"I went to see him at the East Sea Sanatorium yesterday. I showed him two things."

"What were they?"

"One was the simulated casualty data for East Asian soldiers on the Alaska Defense Line. The other was the preliminary verification report on Taogang Alloy."

Sheng Lan's stride halted for a beat.

"What did he say after reading them?"

Lin Yuan walked ahead, his back vanishing around the corner of the corridor.

His voice echoed faintly from the walls.

"He said that what he had not dared to do twenty years ago was something someone needed to do now."