The Alchemist Chapter 37

 

Chapter 37

The first steam engine prototype was up and running in a week. It took another week before the prototype was working correctly, well enough to run a power station on. The boilers needed to be constantly fed throughout the day, though, but I was just happy to be able to charge the Oracle from a natural power source.

Since we weren’t advanced enough to use transformers and various electrical circuitry, the light bulbs in Freedom Hill had a tendency to flicker.

The school house was completed a day after we started up the power generation plant. Moray and the scientists moved in, and all the thirty children under the age of eighteen were made to attend. Moray and the scientists spent their free time working on their research, which I sponsored. Among all this, I continued to give lectures at the Royal Society. We were getting closer to the limit of my high school learning. Soon I would have to prepare the material by doing research—which was much easier than if I didn’t know anything at all.

But I did have a smartphone with connection to the internet, after all. It was my trump card. I could learn about anything that my world had done.

I made a proposal to Moray one day about a week after the construction of the school house.

“A paper airplane contest?” said Moray, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I said. “We’ll have people from all over build paper airplanes and see whose will fly the furthest.”

“I think that would be great,” said Moray. “But you’re going to have to negotiate with the parchment-paper guild.”

The guild previously known as the “parchment guild” had recently been renamed to the “parchment-paper guild.”

“Sure,” I said. “Getting their permission will be easy. I suppose we do have to follow tradition at some point, eventually.”

“Let’s take a tour of the factory,” said Moray, standing up from his desk. The factory was still in the process of being tuned for use. Currently, we were manufacturing guns, cannons, and fiber steel armor. Three wings in the building were designed for the three branches of our manufacturing business. Kerosene and oil cracking were done in a different facility.

We entered the factory, which was bustling with activity. There were at least a dozen workers doing various jobs around the floor. They weren’t actually making product yet, as we had not set up all the assembly lines.

I met with Barns, who was directing a number of workers hoisting a heavy piece of shelf. He turned to greet me.

“Lord Peters,” he said, bowing. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“We’re just making sure everything is going according to schedule,” I said.

“Very well,” said Barns. “I am doing my utmost to make sure everyone works their hardest.”

“Good,” I said, “But make sure to take your breaks. I could get sued if you guys don’t.”

“Sued?” said Barns. “Why?”

“It was a deadpan joke,” I said.

No one laughed. Not even me. I sighed. “Okay, forget it. Just make certain that they have enough time to eat their lunches.”

“Aye aye,” said Barns. He turned. “Get to working, you slobs!”

Oh well. Instilling the values of a postmodern service-based economy onto a medieval work force building an industrial era factory was a moot hope. If only.

Moray and I walked through the rest of the factory, inspecting the progress. At this rate we would be able to open for business within the week. We left the factory and headed to the oil cracking warehouse.

The oil fields outside the warehouse were still producing a large amount of the black sticky stuff. We entered the warehouse; it smelled of chemicals. Of course, it was an oil refinery run by magicians.

“Is everyone wearing masks like I ordered?” I said, as I entered.

Several people quickly donned their cloth masks. I sighed. “Look,” I said. “This is for your own good. If you don’t wear masks you could suffer lung, nerve, and brain damage.”

“Yes, sir,” said one of the foremen.

I tapped the man on the head with a rolled-up piece of paper. “Don’t forget it. The health of these men depends on your adherence to my guidelines.”

“Yes, sir,” said the foreman.

I paused. “And I’ll dock your pay ten cris per person I catch not wearing a mask.”

“Yes, sir,” said the foreman, now much more motivated. “Get yer masks on, ye fallow wizards!”

I put my hands behind my back and turned around.

Moray frowned. “Why are you going to such lengths?” he said. “First you order your workers to not work on your dime. Then you threaten the foreman because some workers were not wearing masks? Why?”

“When you come from a post industrial society like I do, you understand the human suffering that can be caused by poor working conditions,” I said. “I’m protecting them. The breaks are to keep them sane. The masks are to keep them healthy. I don’t care if it costs me more. The well being of my workers is my utmost priority.”

“You’re a strange one when it comes to this,” said Moray. “But I can’t say I don’t like it. You really do care about everyone who works for you.”

I paused. “How is teaching coming along?” I asked.

“The younger children tend to take to reading better than the older students,” said Moray. “In a complete contradiction to how I imagined it being.”

“Ah, yes,” I said. “I haven’t done many talks on psychology. Young children are more impressionable, which means that they absorb information much easier and quicker than older people.”

“I could have understood that,” said Moray. “But why do the seventeen-year-olds get so rebellious when I try to teach them their numbers?”

“Tell them that the numbers are to help them make money,” I said. “Everyone needs to know numbers if they plan on doing business.”

“A good strategy,” said Moray. “But I know you understand the underlying theory.”

“See, an older person’s brain is more developed,” I said.

“Don’t you mean their heart?” said Moray.

“Um, no,” I said. “The brain is the center of executive function.”

“Now that’s a surprise,” said Moray. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because that is such basic knowledge in my sphere that I didn’t think you’d know any different.”

“Hm,” said Moray. “What else is common knowledge for you that would be revolutionary to me?”

“Um, light moves,” I said.

Moray raised an eyebrow. “And how—wait, my heart hurts.” He paused. “I mean my brain.”

“Also,” I said, “Objects accelerate downward at nine point eight meters per second.”

“Meter?” said Moray.

“About ten toms,” I said.

“Oh,” said Moray. “So, downward objects accelerate?”

“Exactly,” I said. “Also, if you drop a big ball and a soft ball of different weights and sizes from the same height they will hit the ground at the same time.”

“Prove it,” said Moray.

I grinned. “Is there somewhere tall we can drop stuff off of?” I asked.

Moray seemed to be bit with the same fever I was. “Of course,” he said. “I can get us access to the bell tower. We’re going to need some witnesses, of course.”

“I’ll find a cannon ball and a small rock. You go find the scientists. We’ll convene here in ten minutes and I’ll call my carriage.”

Ten minutes later everything was ready for our expedition into Brownfield to drop stuff off the bell tower. Jones, Canary, and Reginald were coming with us, along with Litmus the dog.

We took off along the road until we came to Brownfield. There, we traveled through the streets until we came to the church’s bell tower.

We knocked on the door to the church. Fey Grimes answered.

“It’s not time for worship,” he said. “Please come back—” he paused. “Ah, come in, come in,” he said. “You’re important guests. Why are you here?”

“We’re here to test a hypothesis,” said Moray. “About falling objects.”

Fey Grimes rubbed his hands together. “I, uh, I don’t know how I can help you with that …”

“We need access to the bell tower,” said Moray.

“Yes, of course, of course,” said Fey Grimes. He looked very fidgety. “Right this way.” He led us to a small door that opened into the bell tower’s interior. I looked up at the rows of stairs spiraling up. I was going to have to carry a cannonball up there. I had always been a bit afraid of heights.

But we started up anyways. Reginald and Jones stayed below to see when the objects struck the ground. Moray, Canary, and I brought the materials up to the top.

We made it to the pinnacle and stood at the bell tower’s edge. I held out both objects, one in each hand. The cannonball was heavy but I could barely manage.

“One, two, three,” I said. I dropped both objects at the same time.

They hit the ground at exactly the same instant. The world was silent for a moment.

“Damn!” said Reginald, loud enough for me to hear up at the bell tower’s top.

“Damn,” said Moray, muttering under his breath. “It worked.”

“This is called the scientific method, ladies and gentlemen,” I said. “Proving that objects that are different sizes fall at the same speed and acceleration. Newton be damned.”

Moray sighed. “As always,” he said. “You’re right.”

I pumped my fist. “Okay,” I said. “Will this make you more likely to believe me next time I say something?”

“Hah,” said Moray, snorting. “We’ll see about that.”

We climbed down from the bell tower. When I got to the bottom, I saw Yonas standing at the door to the church.

“Heya!” I said. “How are you?”

“Good,” said Yonas. “I came here because I caught wind of a peculiar science experiment.”

“They fell at the same speed,” said Moray. “Even though they were different sizes.”

“Now that’s something entertaining,” said Yonas. “I’ll be sure to write about that in the paper.”

“You do that,” I said. “It’s what I’m paying you for, anyways.” I shook his hand.

Yonas saluted and then returned to the shop.

Just as Rachel came turning around the corner. “What have you gotten into now?” she said.

I shrugged. “Just a little physics experiment,” I said.

Moray’s eyes still contained excitement. “He proved through demonstration that gravity affects objects of different size and weight the same.”

Rachel tilted her head. “And?” she said.

Moray frowned. “Ah, yes. You’re not an academic like us.”

I put my hand on Moray’s shoulder. “Don’t look down on her. Eventually we’ll change that distinction so that everyone knows at least something.”

Moray sighed. “Okay,” he said. “I suppose that’s what you’re paying me to do.”

We turned around. “I’ll be seeing you later, Rachel,” I said. We returned to the carriage and got inside.

Jones was still chuckling. “I can’t believe it,” he said.

“I’ll teach you the calculus behind that when we get back to Freedom Hill,” I said. “Two thousand years of mathematics condensed into a single lesson.”

“Please do,” said Moray. “I want to learn more about this calculus of yours.”

“Well, scratch that,” I said. “We need to build a strong foundation in the basic maths. Right now you’re at about the level a tenth grader in my world would be at. We still have algebra two and pre calculus.”

Moray sighed. “Okay, I’ll bear with it,” he said. His fingers tapped anxiously against the plush seat. “What more do you know?”

“Oh, I haven’t showed you a compass yet, have I?” I said.

“Compass?” said Moray.

“Ah, exactly,” I said. “It’s a device that aligns itself with the world’ magnetic field, telling you at all times what direction is north.”

Moray’s mood seemed to shift. “Show me,” he said.