The Alchemist Chapter 33

 

Chapter 33

The verdict was in. My first issue of the Brownfield Times was a hit success, and most people who read it were horrified with the practice of dragon hunting. Plus, we gave them an alternative: kerosene. Within the week we had a cottage factory in my hamlet producing kerosene using the town’s magic adept, who were generally very weak but had enough magic between them to output a good amount of the stuff.

I named my hamlet Freedom Hill. Soon after the naming ceremony, I went to the Royal Society to discuss education.

I entered Moray’s office, Claude behind me as usual.

Moray was leaned back in his chair, playing with a paper airplane. He looked up as the door closed behind us.

“I heard you took the offer,” he said.

“I did,” I said. “I thought that, with a parcel of land and some peasants to work with, I could come out better.”

Moray scoffed. “If it were anyone but you, I would have written you off as a greed monger. However, with you …” Moray moved the paper airplane through the air. “You’re different. I’ve heard that you’ve been flooding the market with that new Kerosene stuff.”

“I have,” I said. “Purely as an alternative to dragon oil.”

Moray nodded. “And just in time, too,” said Moray. “There’s an old prophecy that says that the moment the last dragons die, the Elders will return.”

“Uh,” I said. “Why haven’t I heard of this before?”

“Because I didn’t know it last time we talked,” said Moray. “I’ve been doing my research. The Royal Society has an archive library with information dating back thousands of years.”

“And you found a book with that prophecy?” I asked.

“It was more of a scroll,” said Moray. “But yes. I’ve found a few other interesting tidbits as well. There was another person who came from your sphere. Tibius Martell. He came here suddenly one day two hundred years ago, carrying a huge amount of power. He tore up the local city and set himself up as a rogue warlord. He was killed two years later by a coalition sent by the church. I have reason to believe that he came from the same sphere you do.” Moray paused. “But he was not known as an inventor.”

“Two hundred years ago was the beginning of the industrial revolution on Earth,” I said. “He may not have been nearly as educated as I am.” I paused. “On the topic of education. I want to hire some teachers to teach my peasants how to read, write, and do math.”

Moray raised an eyebrow. “And why would you want that?” he said.

“Because I’m going to need educated workers for the town I’m planning on building,” I said. “I’ve turned it into a special economic zone.”

“I heard about that,” said Moray, playing with his paper plane. “You removed all taxes? That was both incredibly smart and incredibly stupid. Where are you going to get your money to run your estate?”

“I can draw up enough gold from the ambient metals beneath us to finance pretty much anything I can think of,” I said. “I do not need money. What I want is a steam engine, and at the moment there is no amount of money in the world that can buy one. Money is not an object to me. What I want is intelligence, skill, and craftsmanship.”

“And that’s why you want us to teach your peasants?” said Moray.

“Exactly,” I said. “A single skilled worker can produce enough value to rival ten simple farmers.”

“Ah,” said Moray. “When you put it like that …”

“I know what I’m doing,” I said. “I haven’t been teaching you a lot about economics, but I know more about it than anyone else in this world. Period. Not because I’m better, but because the world I live in has been there and seen everything. Free economies produce wealth.” I thought for a moment. “About peasants. Once they are working on the land owned by the lord, can they leave when they want to?”

“Some lords allow it, some don’t,” said Moray. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I have a hunch that a lot of peasants are going to move to my hamlet soon. In fact, it’s probably not going to be a hamlet for long.”

Moray chuckled. “And that’s what you want, right?” he said.

“Yes,” I said. “I want to build a city that will be a light on a hill. Everyone will know the power of enlightenment.”

“Let me get this straight,” said Moray. “You’ve abolished taxes for your peasants,”

“Yes,” I said.

“And you’re going to teach them how to read and write for free,” said Moray.

“Yes,” I said.

“And you’re going to allow industry not regulated by the guilds to work there.”

“That’s right,” I said.

Moray sighed. “Well, good luck. No one has ever done this kind of thing before.”

“That’s because all the nobles are greedy bastards,” I said. “They just want to exploit their populace.”

“How are you going to feed your people?” said Moray. “If they’re all working in your, eh, factories, then how are you going to get food?”

“Many ways,” I said. “I can increase productivity with fertilizer or I can import food on the proceeds of our factories.”

“Fertilizer?” said Moray. “Where are you going to get that?”

“Chemicals,” I said. “Phosphorus and nitrogen. They will increase crop yields ten times.”

Moray whistled. “That’s some projection.”

“It’s science,” I said. “Plants will yield many times what they do without it if it is spread on the soil.”

Moray tapped his fingers on the desk. “So the whole town is your bed for experiments,” he said.

“While I don’t like to phrase it that way, yes,” I said.

Moray sighed. “Great. Because you’re my friend, I’ll trust you on this.” He continued to tap his fingers. “But first. Who, exactly, will you trust with teaching your peasants?”

“You,” I said. “And anyone you trust. The pay will be very competitive.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Moray. “But I don’t know many scientists who would be willing to take you up on your offer. There’s too much that they plan on doing. Everyone has their own experiments.”

“If the pay is not good enough,” I said, “I will finance any research that they may want to perform.”

“Now that’s a sweet deal,” said Moray. He clicked his tongue. “What’s your budget?”

“Depending on the science, about a thousand cris per year per person. That’s just for research purposes, not including wages for teaching.”

“And where are you getting that money?” said Moray.

“I’m making tens of thousands of cris a week selling Kerosene,” I said. “I have money.”

Moray whistled. “Then I’m on board. I’ll get as many others as I can to come with me.”

“Be there in two days,” I said. “In the meantime I’m going to get working on building a school house.” I turned to Claude. “Let’s go.”

We left the building and went back to the shop location. We weren’t going to close it. We were just expanding into Freedom Hill. All operations at the original location would continue.

I went in and said hi to the guy we had tending the front, and then I went into the back and said hello to Rachel.

“We’ve been working at it for sixteen hours,” said Rachel, showing up a test print of our second newspaper issue. “We’re reporting on the fire that burned down Littleton yesterday.”

“Great,” I said. “But I need to talk to you.”

“Hm?” said Rachel.

“I need to hire some builders.”

“To renovate the keep?” said Rachel.

“That, and to build a school house and a factory,” I said. “We’re going to start producing plastic and plastic derivatives in addition to kerosene. For that we need a big factory building.”

Rachel sighed. “I’ll get to it.”

“I also need to do a bit of traveling so I can locate a source of phosphorus and nitrogen. Are there any coasts along here that have a lot of bird poop?”

“Bird poop?” said Rachel. “I know your ideas are always crazy, but why in the hell would you want bird poop?”

“That stuff is worth its weight in, at least silver I suppose. If you spread it onto crops you can triple your yields.”

“Hah,” said Rachel. “The ocean is a hundred miles from here.” She sighed. “I’ll hire a sky ship.”

“Great,” I said. “Can we go as soon as tomorrow?”

Rachel turned away, waving her hand. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it for you.”

I nodded and went upstairs to sleep in my bedroom. I didn’t need to—I could sleep in the keep—but that place was drafty, dusty, and kind of creepy.

When I woke up there was a letter at the bedstand.

I’ve chartered the Green Heron to take you to the ocean. Find all the bird poop you want there.

I got up, brushed my teeth, and then met Claude at the door. We went to the docks and boarded the Green Heron. The captain was a nice man, kind of elf-like, named Gover. We took off within the hour and, half a day later, we were at the ocean. It was a long stretch of uninhabited beach with several rocky outlying islands. Those islands contained exactly what I was looking for.

Bird poop. This stuff, once people knew what it could do, would be very valuable. I, however, had to prove that it was worth harvesting. And to do that I had planned a bit of an experiment.

I told the captain to take us close to the island. I had prepared a number of barrels and sacks to put the poop in. I climbed a ladder down to the island and, using my alchemy powers, filled five sacks full of bird poop. From what I had researched, this was enough to fertilize ten acres. Not much but it was a start. We hoisted the bags and barrels onto the ship using pulleys and then turned around and headed for home.

When we got to Freedom Hill, I put the poop in storage and told the peasants to not touch it. They, of course, said they would not. It was just bird poop, after all.

In the meantime the personal horse carriage I had ordered had been delivered to the keep. I looked around it, admiring the craftsmanship. I had ordered it a week before from the top carriage maker in Brownfield. We also had two very nice draft horses to pull it, as well as a butler named Regen who drove it.

“Hello, sir,” said Regen.

“Hello,” I said. “It’s been a while. Have you figured out how to clean the keep?”

“I have hired five maids,” said Regen. “They will take care of the keep for you.”

I stepped into the carriage, followed by Claude.

The Green Heron took off, to fulfill its next contract. Claude and I rode back to Brownfield, to my shop. I entered and went to get Rachel.

“How have the sales of the second issue been?” I asked.

Rachel sighed. “Not very good. I told you before that not enough people know how to read.”

“And I’m planning to change that,” I said. “The newspaper will be an incentive for people to learn.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Rachel.

“What other kinds of things are we printing?” I asked.

Rachel showed me around the works. There were pamphlets, fliers, and posters for advertising goods. Even a few flags. Upon inspecting it all, I gave it my approval and returned to the carriage in order to get back to Freedom Hill and start my experiments.