The Alchemist Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I spent the night turning oil into its derivatives, including plastic but not limited to just that. We ended up with barrels of kerosene, gasoline, and even diesel. With the plastic orders filled for now, I grabbed ten extra dunces and rushed over to the workshop.

Moray and friends hadn’t slept either, from what I saw upon entering. Moray stood up, covered in grease.

“Hey, the triumphant returns!” he said. His eyes went to the bag with the plastic in it. “Is that the plastic?” he said.

“It is,” I said. I handed it to Moray. “Do with it what you want. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Moray took the ingots out of the bag and stacked them up. “This material is remarkably light,” he said. “And it’s … Transparent? No, not the right word. Opaque? I don’t know how to describe this.”

I took a single ingot and formed it into a little crude figure. “In my world this stuff is used for cheap packaging and toys. Not heavy industrial or competitive uses. Composites, on the other hand …” I took a brick of plastic and turned it over in my hand. “I’m going to try to make twenty versions of plastic. I want you to see which ones you think will work the best.”

I changed the composition of the plastic ingot to represent the full spectrum of plastics in my world. From PVC to PET to LDPE, I created as many different kinds as I could remember from my home world.

When I had the products arrayed, Moray took a look.

“This is the most versatile element I’ve ever seen,” he said, picking up a piece of PVC. “Some of these are pliable, some are tough, some are light …”

“And you can make clothes, containers, and even synthetic rubber out of this,” I said.

“This stuff has the power to change the world,” said Moray. “I can’t believe that it’s so cheap where you come from.”

“It’s actually a byword for cheap in my world,” I said. “There’s so much of it in my world that it’s become quite a problem. The oceans are full of it and all the fish are eating it and it’s a huge disaster.”

“We’re going to have to see if we can get regular magic to work in refining it from … Tar? Did I hear that correctly?” said Moray.

“Yes,” I said. “Crude oil is probably the most useful substance on the planet.”

“And you can manipulate any element with your power?” he said. “Anything at all?”

“All one hundred and eighteen elements,” I said. “Though I would have to try a little to create the last ten or so …”

Moray held up his hand. “Save it for a lecture at the society,” he said. “For now, we have a golem to build.” He picked up the PVC pipe that I had formed. “This looks like a good core for the new drill,” he said.

Canary took it from Moray. “Indeed. The properties of this material are almost magic. This will do great.” He began to fit it into the drill in place of the beaten copper core.

We ran up the clock until just fifteen minutes until the time for our match. Rushing out of the workshop, we carried out golem covered in a sheet.

The arena was packed with people, even more than the last match.

Our second bout was against the woodmancer’s guild. Their golem was a massive tree Ent that must have stood at eight feet tall.

“Is that legal?” I said, upon looking up at the monstrous figure.

“The only limits to golem construction are the number of people controlling it,” said Moray. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up at the monstrosity. “Since wood is natural and so light, it’s easy for three controllers to handle something big.”

Our golem was the size of a large dog. Its head didn’t even go above the tree golem’s legs.

The crowd was going wild. At this point, I didn’t know how we were going to win.

But we had to try. There was a bet riding on this and, more importantly, I didn’t want to disappoint Moray.

“What are the rules about fire?” I asked. “Can you manipulate it with magic after igniting it?”

“Sure,” said Moray. “Same with water and air. But we don’t have a way to make fire, and we don’t have any pyromancers!”

“Can you cross-class?” I asked.

“A bit,” said Moray. His eyes glinted. “You have something in mind, don’t you?”

“If you can take an ember and turn it into a blaze, then yes,” I said.

Moray grinned. “Go for it.”

“You know how a firebow works, right?” I said.

Moray snapped his fingers. “I know exactly what you’re planning to do. Canary! Get that drill pressed into the legs of the woodmancers’ golem!”  

“On it!” said Canary. He and Jones maneuvered our golem until its drill was in place—a rather easy thing to do considering the clumsiness of the hulking giant.

“Let her rip!” said Moray.

The drill spun up to speed and almost immediately smoke began to appear. Then a little spark popped out—and, in an instant, became a raging flame. We backed our golem away and the woodmancers’ golem was engulfed in red fire. The woodmancers tried to put it out, but no avail. The golem was consumed and collapsed to the ground in a heap.

“The win goes to the Royal Society!” said the announcer.

We were on to the quarter finals. Our next match was two days from now.

We had a lot of work to do. The win against the woodmancers was just a fluke. Our golem needed a new suite of equipment. The drill worked well against smaller enemies, but would be pretty useless against a larger stone golem.

A chainsaw would be nice. However, I wasn’t sure I would be able to build one with the equipment here.

I decided to take it to Moray.

“Hey,” I said. “Do you think you can evaluate a prototype for me?”

“Sure,” said Moray.

I spent the next ten minutes explaining the mechanics of a chainsaw.

Moray rubbed his chin when I was finished. “I think we can make it happen,” he said. “We have two days. If we work as much as possible, we can create this rotating chain saw mechanism before our next match.”

For the next two days we worked almost nonstop. Prototype after prototype fell apart, exploded, or was shredded. An hour in I gave everyone safety glasses—and they were necessary on several occasions.

Two hours before the match we perfected the mechanism. Canary funneled magic into a rotating engine that pulled the chain across the body. The sound was a lot quieter than a mechanical chainsaw, but it still worked.

Moray stepped back, a grin on his face. “This technology can be used for a lot more than churning,” he said. “I know you’re working on special projects of your own, but what about turning this into a business?”

“I’ll help you as much as I can,” I said. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the development of this as well as my printing press.”

“All right,” said Moray. “We can discuss the details when we win this competition.” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s be there early. We’re in the top eight and we have to make a good impression.”

Canary and Jones picked up the golem and brough it out of the workshop, putting it on the back of a horse cart by the door. Moray and I climbed aboard and then we headed towards the arena.

Once there we found it was already crowded with spectators. Were they tailgating? Did people in ancient societies do that?

In any case, it looked like they were having a lot of fun.

“How much money is riding on your bet?” I said, to Moray. “I’m curious.”

“It’s not a bet about money,” said Moray. “It’s about a dog.”

“A dog?” I said.

“Reginald and I found a beautiful dog on the streets and adopted it,” said Moray. “Before we knew it, the whole Royal Society was in love with the little guy. Both Reginald and I wanted to keep him in our offices. So we made this bet.”

“What’s his name?” I said.

“Litmus,” said Moray. “He’s the most wonderful pupper this side of heaven.”

I didn’t know how to feel, knowing that it wasn’t about money.

Well, at least it’s probably going to get more fun, I thought.

We went through the contestants’ entrance and set up in our dugout. The seats of the arena were already being filled.

“Does anyone want drinks?” said Moray, standing up and dusting off his hands.

“Sure, I’ll take fruit juice,” I said.

“Milk,” said Canary.

“Tea,” said Jones.

“Great,” said Moray. “I’ll be back.” He left the three of us in the dugout.

“Why haven’t I met Litmus yet?” I asked.

“You haven’t?” said Jones. “Litmus wanders around the Guild Hall during the day. Maybe you just missed him.”

“Well, I’ll have to meet him someday,” I said. “The whole town knows about this bet, right?”

“Moray is famous, after all,” said Jones. “He was the one who brought running water to the city center.”

“What type of magic does Moray command?” I said.

“Elemental,” said Jones. “That means that he can observe the elements. Though his control of them is a little shaky.”

“He was able to create a blaze in the last game,” I said. “How did he do that?”

“I don’t know myself,” said Jones. “You’d have to ask him.” Jones brushed a bit of dirt off of the golem. “Thanks to you, we might actually win this.”

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes until Moray returned with drinks. They came in wooden mugs that were banded with copper.

Moray handed me a mug filled with a strange purple liquid. I drank some of it, and it reminded me of the fruit I ate the first day I was here. It was, for lack of a better term, purple tasting. I finished it in a long draught.

“Hey there!” said a familiar voice.

It was Claude. I stood up and greeted her.

“I heard you were working in a churning team,” said Claude. “I came over to see how you were doing.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

“So what’s this all about?” said Claude, walking around the golem and inspecting it.

“It runs a piece of equipment called a “chain saw”,” said Moray. “A very innovative design put forth by Markus.”

Claude looked at the rough approximation of my world’s chainsaw. “This looks like it will be useful in a number of applications,” she said. She turned to me. “Do you mind if I put in an order for some of these when the churning competition is over?”

“Sure thing,” I said. “Chainsaws are cool, after all.”

Claude leaned against the wall. “Is it okay if I watch from here?” she said.

“Go ahead, Claude-win,” said Moray.

Claude nodded and then crossed her arms.

We spent the next hour and a half fine-tuning our golem. Then it was time to start. We put our golem out in the field and prepared to pilot it.

The enemy team this time was the goldmancers. Their golem gleamed with a shell of solid gold.

“That’s not practical,” said Canary, as the golem walked out onto the field.

Jones whistled. “Leave it to the goldbugs to bring the bling,” he said.

The game started. Our golem rushed towards the enemy, chain saw whirring.

The goldbug swiftly dodged our charge.

“Damn,” said Moray.

“Gold is the optimal metal for precise control,” said Claude, still leaning against the wall. “Of course they would prioritize mobility in their golem.”

“I probably should have suggested a gun,” I said, my fists clenched.

The goldbug skittered—glitteringly—towards us. A gigantic golden hammer popped up out of its carapace.

“Move, move!” yelled Canary.

“I’m trying!” said Jones.

The goldbug was just too agile. Our golem dodged a strike with inches to spare. The sound of the hammer hitting the dirt was like a gong. The whole ground shook.

“Would’ya look at that,” said Moray. “Jones. Take me to the edge of the ring.”

“On it,” said Jones. Our golem sprinted to the nearest corner.

“Now let him at us,” said Moray.

The goldbug rushed us. At the last moment, Moray turned the chainsaw sideways.

The chainsaw sheared the goldbug and cut off its entire right side. Glittering pieces of gold flew everywhere.

“Looks like we’re getting somewhere,” said Moray. “Have at it!”

We bore down on the goldbug, chainsaw running. There was no escape.