The Alchemist Chapter 20

 

Chapter 20

A rather normal-looking man entered my shop a couple of days after I returned from the Incursion. I was working on my first prototype for a steam engine when he arrived.

I walked out into the shop area. “Can I help you?” I said.

The man took a bag of coins out of his cloak and dropped it on the counter with a clank. “I need your help, son of Meliapolis.”

“How do you know my connection to him?” I asked.

“It’s common knowledge among my folk,” said the man. He crossed his arms. “Are you going to help me?”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” I said. “It depends on if it’s dangerous enough.”

“You’ve put yourself in plenty of danger lately,” said the man. He extended his hand. “My name is Yonas,” he said.

”Markus,” I said, shaking his hand. 

“I’m sure you have heard that dragons are hunted for their oil and bones in this world,” said Yonas.

“They’re just whales of the sky, right?” I said. “Are you a conservationist?”

“I’m not entirely sure what that word means,” said Yonas. “But I think I know what you’re trying to label me as. No, I am not working out of a sense of pity for the creatures. I have other reasons.”

“That was on my agenda anyways,” I said. “At some point I want to end the hunting of dragons for their oil. Back in my world, across the phlogiston, people used to hunt whales.”

“Most people don’t know this,” said Yonas, “But dragons are sentient. My people are just as deserving of life as humans.”

“So you’re a dragon?” I said. “I’d heard that you could take on different forms, but I didn’t expect to see one so soon.” I paused. “What is it that you want me to do?”

“I want you to move the hearts of the people,” said Yonas. “I know you have a way to do this. A way to create a large number of treatises with little effort.”

“You mean my printing press?” I said. “You want me to print anti dragon whaling pieces?”

“Yes,” said Yonas. “But to do that, you need to know how dragon hunting works. If you accept my task, I will get you onto a dragon hunting ship and you can experience for yourself what it’s like to kill such noble beings.”

“Most people aren’t literate,” I said. “How are they going to read the publications?”

“We can use pictures, right?” said Yonas. “And the important ones can read. I also know you’re working on something called a … Canary?”

“Camera,” I said. “Yes, that is part of my ongoing research.”

“And it can capture specific instances with good fidelity?”

“Pretty much, yes,” I said. So he wants me to do some muckraking investigative journalism, I thought. I’m up for that. I picked up the bag of money. “I’ll build a camera before the week is out,” I said. “Until then, hold off on finding me a place on a dragon hunting ship.”

“Of course,” said Yonas. He bowed, and then left the shop.

I sat down in a chair and sighed. Things are getting interesting, I thought. Who knew that the dragons being hunted were sentient? I sat back up and took out my smartphone, looking up the process to create a simple light exposure camera. I would need Rachel and Moray to help me source the materials and chemicals I would need. My steam engine project would have to wait until another time.

Also, I would need to work the final kinks out of my printing press, as well as figure out how to duplicate the pictures that I did take. Then I would have to carry the camera—which would probably be large—onto the ship.

It was a rare occasion around Brownfield, but occasionally sky ships would pull into the tiny port and deliver goods and passengers. The city as a whole was away from major trade routes, and most sky ship sightings happened on the far horizon.

The ships, of course, flew with magic, appearing to be just like old fashioned ships back home with sails on every axis.

About half an hour after Yonas left, Rachel returned from some errands she had ben running.

“Can you get Moray for me?” I said.

“Um, sure,” said Rachel. “What are you up to this time?”

“I need some specific chemicals for a new invention,” I said. “It’s very important.”

“More important than this steam-powered engine of yours?” said Rachel.

“Much more,” I said. “Though for different reasons.”

Rachel nodded. “I’ll go and grab him. He’s usually in his office at this hour.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said.

Rachel shrugged. “Let’s go. I’m sure you’re in a hurry.”

We walked across town to the Royal Society building. After passing the guards and entering, we wove our way through the maze of corridors and found Moray in his office, playing with some test tubes.

“Yes?” he said, without looking up.

I had written down a number of chemicals and materials. “I need what’s on this paper,” I said.

“Hm,” said Moray. “What do you need all these strange chemicals for?”

“A machine that creates an instant painting,” I said. “In black and white for now, but there is a possibility of color later.”

Moray looked up and down the paper. “This looks complicated. How does it work?”

“Remember, a few weeks ago, when I explained optics?”

“Right,” said Moray. “I don’t see how these two things are related, though.”

“They are,” I said. “The light enters through a tiny pinhole into a dark chamber and causes a reaction on a piece of paper coated in chemicals. Then, you take the paper that was exposed and then bathe it in more chemicals to develop the final photo.” I paused. “And, once the photo is made, it’s possible to print copies of it on a printing press.”

“And what are you aiming to do with this device?” asked Moray.

“Save the dragons,” I said. “I received a request from a strange man who might have been a dragon himself.” I thought for a minute. “Do people know that dragons are sentient?”

“That goes against the church,” said Moray. “The church believes that only humans, elves, and dwarves have souls. Orcs have half a soul. All other animals, even if they speak, do not have a soul.”

“That sounds pretty xenophobic to me,” I said.

“It’s the dictate of the pentaty,” said Moray. “No being without a soul can be afforded the rights of man.”

“But isn’t it obvious? That dragons are noble and intelligence creatures?”

“They kill our livestock, steal our treasure, and burn down our cities. Do you not remember the draconic wars?” Moray paused. “Oh, of course. You’re from a different globe. You probably don’t know much about the history of this land.”

“What happened with the dragons?” I said. “Did they attack?”

“It was a long and difficult fight,” said Moray. “Hundreds of thousands of innocent people died due to breath weapons. Frozen, burned, acidified, shocked.”

“And humanity won?” I said.

“Of course we did,” said Moray. “We had the backing of the pentaty. The dragons have no god to protect them.”

“Did you even try to negotiate?” I asked.

“Negotiate?” said Moray. “With beasts?”

“I told you!” I said. “They’re sentient!”

“I assume you equate sentience with the ability to speak,” said Moray.

“Um, isn’t that what it means?” I asked.

Moray sighed. “I have my own doubts, but I cannot challenge the accepted doctrine of the pentaty.”

“Otherwise you’ll be burned at the stake,” I said, with a bitter tone.

Moray was silent.

Rachel clapped her hands. “Why don’t we go get something to eat?” she said.

I sighed, and drummed my knuckles on the wood desk. “Sure,” I said. “All this frustration is making me hungry.”

Moray was silent for a while longer. Then he spoke. “Have you ever tried dragon meat?”

“What?” I said. “Why would I want to eat that, knowing what I do?”

“It’s the byproduct of dragon hunting,” said Moray. “It’s not very palatable, except for the breath gland, but I want you to taste it. Then you may get a different perspective on things.”

“Eating a being who is as intelligent or more intelligent than I am will not sit well with my stomach,” I said.

“Try it,” said Moray. “The beast is dead anyways, killed for its oil and bones.”

“Dragon bone does make good armor,” said Rachel. “Though it’s very expensive and nowhere near as light and flexible as fiber steel.”

I sighed. “I’ll try it,” I said. “But just this once. This is one of the injustices of this world that I think I was brought here to fight.”

“And you’re going to use a camera for that?” said Moray.

“You don’t know the power of a well-placed image,” I said. “Some images in my world were powerful enough to change the course of history.”

Moray stood up. “Let’s go, then,” he said.

Rachel and I followed Moray through the maze of the Royal Society building and traversed half the town to arrive in a small diner at the corner of a street. Moray pushed his way into the establishment, ringing a bell along the wall.

“Hey!” he said, raising his voice. “Stephen! I need three dragon steaks, and two glasses of beer!” He turned to me. “I know you’re young, but do you want some beer too?”

“I’ll just have, um,” I said. “Water. Boiled.”

Moray nodded. “Yeah, that. I don’t know if Stephen will agree to that if he doesn’t know what it’s for. I’m not even sure I know what that ritual of yours is for.”

“One of my next projects will be a microscope,” I said, sitting down at a table, across from Rachel.

Moray sat down between us, to my right. He steepled his hands. “Let’s talk more about this camera of yours,” he said. “How, exactly, does it work?”

“It uses a lens to focus light onto a material that is sensitive to it. Thus, the light etches onto the material and you get a representation of the thing you were pointing at.”

“The light does the painting?” said Moray. “With those, what you called, particles?”

“Indeed,” I said. “Light photons hit the material and cause a chemical reaction. Since dark objects give off less light, they cause less impact on the treated paper. Thus, you get a black and white painting near instantaneously.”

Moray whistled. “Wow. And when do you plan to have this project finished?”

“In a week,” I said. “I have the funds.”

Stephen arrived with three plates of dragon meat and two glasses of beer. He looked at me a bit funny. “Your water is still boiling,” he said. “I’ll have it out as soon as I finish.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You’re doing me a great service.”

“I would have recommended that you not drink the water here,” said Moray, “But you seem to have taken care of that.”

“Boiling water kills pathogens,” I said. “Like I said, I’m eventually going to build you a microscope.”

The dragon meat in front of me looked surprisingly tasty. I took a knife and cut off a small amount, putting it into my mouth. It tasted of, of course, chicken; but also of wild game and a little hint of beef flavor. I put my fork down. “This is surprisingly good,” I said.

Moray’s lips curved up. “I still don’t understand your position on the dragon matter,” he said. “I told you our history with them.”

“That’s the thing,” I said. “I believe in forgiving your enemies if they change their ways.”

“That’s a view you can’t hold if you want to win,” said Moray. He sighed. “Of course, I know you understand far more than I could ever imagine. The culture you grew up in is just, different.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’ll play along with you for as long as I can,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said.

We finished our meal in silence.