Traxler
patreon
B2 - Ch7 - Time
🕑 Added 2023-08-18 15:02:13 +0000 UTCThe problem with modernization is time.
Just building a modern house takes six to twelve months to complete, let alone modern factories that require years.
Then there’s building the heavy manufacturing equipment that builds other manufacturing equipment and all the intricacies of its parts.
Motors.
Sensors.
Hydraulics.
Circuit boards.
Controllers.
Actuators.
Valves.
So much of what’s required for modern machinery doesn’t exist, and making them relies upon other intricate technology that also doesn’t exist.
It’s frustrating.
Therefore, before I leave for Antigua, a campaign that will take me a year to displace Garfield Redfield, I must consolidate political control and educate my people.
Thea, Zenith, and I returned to Sundell, where I entered a church that doubled as an orphanage for children who lost their parents in the Battle of Sundell or during Edikus’ attack.
Inside, I met a woman wearing golden robes representing the Sundell branch of the Church of Solara.
“Hello, Ms. More,” I greeted, smiling as I watched the children hide behind benches, peeking through the openings.
“King Everwood,” Elizabeth smiled, bowing slowly. “Please call me Elizabeth like everyone else.”
I nodded, appreciating that she wasn’t obsequious and kneeling. While I didn’t particularly dislike being revered as a god-like figure—obviously—but it was harsh when everyone treated me like that.
“Okay,” I replied. “Then call me Ryker.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t possibly….”
“I insist,” I replied. “I’m hoping that we could build a friendly relationship.”
Her eyes glanced at Thea, who had a neutral expression, and then she turned to the children. “Please go play in the courtyard.”
They looked at one another and gulped before scurrying away.
Elizabeth led us to her office and made tea, sitting us at a new wooden table. “Forgive me for not having more to offer,” she replied. “We spend money frugally here, prioritizing the children over quality.”
“That’s something I can appreciate.” After all, I requested that when I built and subsidized the church. “That’s actually why I’m here.”
She set the porcelain cups on the table and sat. “What do you mean?”
“I’d like you to teach all the children under ten in Sundell,” I replied, taking a sip of tea.
Elizabeth coughed, nearly spitting out her earl grey tea. “W-What did you just say?”
“I’m requesting that you teach all the children under ten how to read and count money,” I reiterated. “In exchange, I will pay for breakfast for all students during the week, and for the orphans during the weekend.”
She gave me a wry smile. “A third meal is generous and necessary for growing children…. That’s hard to refuse.”
I studied her expression, seeing the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. In a previously agrarian society, most people had a lot of children so they could help on the farm. As a result, I asked her to teach over a thousand children.
"Naturally, I'd be hiring another ten full-time monastics to help you, ten extra teachers, and ten helpers," I added casually.
"W-Wait…" Elizabeth stuttered.
"Also, I'll be setting up a program that specifically teaches and employs orphans." I took another sip of tea. "And supply them with clothing and counseling."
"K-King Everwood," she swallowed, putting up her hands.
"Of course, to do that I'll need to supply toys," I pondered aloud. "And a playground. That'd be necessary to teach children."
Thea burst into giggles, watching the woman's face turn from panic to embarrassment and then to complete defeat.
"I-I'd have accepted if you only asked, King Everwood!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Please stop. I couldn't possibly accept such generosity."
"Hmmm?" I hummed, stopping my muttering. "These things are basic requirements of a modern school. I feel bad for being so frugal."
Thea's ears twitched, and her tail snaked around her back, seeing the woman's expression crumble. I smiled, glad that such minimal caring could make her so happy.
"What must I do…?" Elizabeth whispered. "Just tell me what and consider it done."
I pulled out a thin stack of papers. "For now, your only goal is to teach children how to read, write, and count to 100," I explained. "Once you've done that, we'll get them practical experience."
"So soon?" she asked, confused.
I nodded. "Yes. Right now, people struggle to follow my blueprints and interact with my financial incentives. If we can teach children to read blueprints and aid with finances, we can employ all of them at low cost to teach business owners and guilds around the city."
Elizabeth looked at me and Thea with wide eyes. "Wait. Did you just say that you're turning children into teachers?"
"That's right,” I confirmed. “I aim to create an army of teachers who can earn money for themselves, this school, and their parents while improving this empire. It also solves the problem of extra labor."
After the advent of the mechanical reaper, farmers could accomplish the same amount with exponentially less labor. That would allow them to send their children to school; since the children will earn some money and learn trade work, the families will benefit.
"While I agree that would be good for the children and their parents, how will you protect them?" Elizabeth frowned. "You're leaving young children with strangers…."
"I’m implementing the death penalty for sexual abuse and prison time for physical abuse for students." I sipped my tea.
Elizabeth's eyes remained glued open as she processed the finality of my words. "Y-You cannot be serious…."
"I am," I confirmed. "Just for students. Children become adults at 15 for practical reasons, so as much as I hate it, I can't outlaw underage relations yet. It will come in due time, though."
Unlike the first-world countries on Earth, where society can afford to send children to school for 18 to 25 years before starting work, people had children in Solstice to obtain labor for their guilds and farms. Moreover, without healthcare, modern medicine, and retirement programs, people required children to care for them when they couldn't work.
Therefore, as much as I hated it, I couldn't switch the legal adult age to eighteen until I built robust programs and technology to address the practical needs of child-rearing.
That said, with my schooling program, I could implement any law I wanted, and I wanted people to hang if they touched children.
Elizabeth's eyes welled with tears, making me sharply stand and walk away.
"I'll send you alphabet and number posters, toys, pens, paper, and everything else you need."
"THANK YOU, KING EVERWOOD!" Elizabeth sobbed, bowing deep in my periphery.
"Ummmmm… Yeah. Sure." With those words, I quickly left the building to avoid the waterworks.
Thea burst into giggles when we got outside.
"What?" I frowned.
"You can survive archwizards and dragons, but you can't handle crying," she laughed.
"Is that strange?" I asked. "People look so wretched and killable that it bothers me. Can people really be so vulnerable in this violent world?"
"So it's practical, huh?" Thea jabbed my side playfully. "So you could handle crying in your old world?"
My eyes glazed over. "That world was worse in many ways."
Thea giggled, seeing me subtly concede as we walked away.
***
It was almost winter, so I returned to Goldenspire to bring daylight to the night. Once we arrived, Carter, Kaley, and dozens of Immortals strung up lights through the city, and I called people to Golden Square.
There, amid the darkness and chilly weather, we started the steam engines, and the entire city lit up, radiating light off the brass-lined buildings.
It made the city look like it was actually made of gold.
While the event wasn’t special to me, seeing the look in Thea, Lyssa, Zenith, and my family's eyes when the whole city lit up made me feel… good.
So that night, I brought out the liquor sent from King Thrain, and we had a toast to the future.
With Bringla’s port construction finalized, Goldenspire politically stabilized, and the schools and time standardization underway, there was nothing to do during the winter.
Therefore, Thea, Zenith, Lyssa, and I took our annual trip to see Regma and Chief Zora in Luminara, now three times its original size.
Trade was booming from the chocolate and coffee trade with Valencian countries importing our wares. The business brought me gold and silver in the tens of millions monthly.
We quickly bought more wares from Valencia to prevent deflation, including magical herbs and spices. We also spent the summer expanding our enterprise by starting a palm oil company, which would later be used for food processing, soap, and candle making.
In my off time, I researched the area's magical plants, rocks, and gemstones, experimenting and seeing if I could recreate different substances. That was my ultimate goal.
Before long, winter had passed, and we said goodbye, returning home.
When we got back, I was in for a surprise.
On my desk was a box from a certain someone that made me grin with delight.
Opening it, I found a shiny, golden timepiece that ticked in standard intervals.
I picked it up and wound it up.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
“Leslie finally created a pocket watch,” I grinned. “She’s going to be pissed when I tell her we need a new one that accounts for 32-hour days.”
Over the years, I accumulated astronomy information on constellations and recorded solar days to find the peculiarities. Additionally, I used hourglasses that I made with the omnipotent tool to verify the hours semi-regularly. Lastly, I paid scholars to record the time for consistency and to determine what was happening.
As a result, I learned that Solstice had a 32-hour day with 526 days in a year.
I wanted Leslie to build a 32-hour watch from the beginning, but my blueprints were for 24 hours, so I had her build what worked.
“What’s so special about this?” Thea asked, grabbing it and tilting her head.
“There are countless benefits of standardized time in creating an orderly society,” I asserted. “However, the most important is ensuring that there aren’t train collisions.”
Time has existed for thousands of years on Earth. However, it didn’t become standardized until George and Robert Stephenson created the first railway in 1825, and the conductors required time to close down the streets to avoid collisions. Moreover, they needed to know when to switch the tracks to avoid two trains hitting one another.
It was a requirement then, and it is a requirement now.
“The train we’ll be building would send a small wyvern flying with a direct collision,” I grinned. “We must ensure that the people running the train can shut down roads so it doesn’t hit people or other vehicles.”
“I see…” Thea said with wide eyes, staring at it with a new light.
“Alright, let’s throw Leslie a party and get her working on the finalized watch,” I grinned.
***
“No.” That was Leslie's response when I offered her the party.
“Absolutely not,” she echoed when I said I needed a watch for 32 hours.
“Get out of my shop!” she screamed when I said I brought her a bribe.
“Whatever you want, just give me that!” she demanded when she saw the bribe.
In my hand was an absolutely hideous 3-carat, princess-cut diamond ring with a split-shank, channel set band studded with diamonds.
It was the type of ring that football players wore to show they were rich or that rich women wore to prove they were of high status.
However, it was made with modern machinery on Earth and loaded with every feature and style that wasn’t conceivable in Solstice.
“I can’t give you this because it’s special to me,” I said. “However, I’ll give you drawings of Earthian designs if you make me this watch.”
Leslie gave me a murderous smile and then looked at the ring again with glittering eyes.
“Get out of my damn shop!” she yelled, snatching the helpful instructions I brought her out of my hand.
Thea’s tail bristled, but I poked her cheek and led her out of the room. “See you soon!”
With those words, I dropped a sack of gold on her desk and left the shop.
Leslie initially chased after me. However, when she saw the paper tag that read, “So you don’t have to worry about finances when you obsess over this again,” she grumbled and returned to her desk to hole up for the next three months.
***
With the watch’s completion on track, I returned home and enjoyed a fire with Thea, drawing and writing feverishly.
“What’s this?” Thea asked.
“It’s called a vacuum,” I replied. “We need it to suck the air out of light bulbs to replace it with other gases. That will make the lights last longer. We can even make lights that grow plants at night with the right gasses. True sun in the darkness.”
More specifically, I was creating a drawing of a steam-powered diffusion pump, or rather, a diffusion pump with instructions on how it works so Carter could make it steam-powered.
A diffusion pump is strange. It heats silicon oil into high-speed vapor particles that bump into other gas particles, pushing them out of the pump exhaust.
To visualize, imagine that the vapor particles are buffalos running toward a cave entrance (the steam exhaust), and you (normal air) are standing between them. Even though you’re not moving to the cave, the buffalos ram into you, moving you there whether you want to go or not. That’s how it works.
Kinda. These are particles, so they’re closer to getting pushed around by coked-out cheetahs on roller skates bouncing between walls and hitting you on their way to the club exit.
But I digress.
Thea looked at the image in fascination. “That’s amazing.”
“What are these?” she asked, picking up other sheets of heavy machinery.
“Commercial distillation chambers,” I replied. “We’ll need those to capture the various gases in the air. Using these gases, we can do cool things like turning soybeans into candles.”
Hydrogenating soybean oil can create candle wax, which would be exponentially cheaper and more efficient than tallow or beeswax candles.
Hydrogenating oils can also create lard, which is disgusting unless it’s in an unhealthy tortilla—and I miss tortillas. Healthy tortillas are just insults to real tortillas.
I refuse to settle for less.
Thea’s eyes glittered as she looked at the drawings and then helped me with the lesson plans for the new schools. Before long, her eyes drooped, and she snuggled up before passing out in my lap.
I love my little cat woman.
Since there was very little to do outside pawning off work on Rema and making decisions, I spent the next three months like that.
Each afternoon, I copied learning materials from my school and sent them to Riley, my master printing press professional, to create bindings. She then sent them to Elizabeth, who started teaching children.
The school was voluntary and would start every three months. There were only 40 students this round, but we expect another 200 once people trust in our mechanical reapers.
“I’m so bored,” I groaned, crashing onto a couch.
“Am I not fun anymore?” Thea asked, hesitantly sitting down beside me.
“No, it’s not you; I love every moment we spend together,” I reassured, pushing myself further and using her lap as a pillow. We were so close that little things like this became customary.
“Then what is it?” she pressed, running her fingers through my hair.
“Time,” I answered. “Machining requirements are measured in size, speed, and tons; building a railroad can take years; and education is measured in decades. Therefore, I must set up a lot before I journey to Antigua, so it’s working in the background while I’m gone.”
It would take at least a year to get through Antigua, and it would be far more difficult than I originally thought. So I needed things working for me while I was gone.
Thea smiled. “So you’re not bored. You’re frustrated because things are moving too slowly?”
I frowned and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Why are you relying on Carter instead of finding other people?” Thea asked. “Even though he now has a thousand employees, they can still only do so much.”
My frown deepened. “My technology doesn’t use steam engines, but Carter figures out ways to make them work with one. No one else can do that, and I don’t want to give away that technology until we make motors. I want to give away tech, but we must stay on top.”
“Well, yeah. That makes sense….” Thea nodded, falling silent. There wasn’t much else to say.
As I said, it would just take time. Soon, I’ll be handing out technology to anyone who applies for it in Sundell and Silverbrook, then offering it to Novena after six to twelve months. But for now, it was at a snail's pace.
***
Fortunately or unfortunately, my boredom didn’t last long. A letter from Rema immediately drew me back to Inspira, where a diplomat from Cyrvena awaited me in the Golden Cathedral.
Rema hastily met me on my launch pad as Zenith landed, perching on the changing chamber.
“Is he already here?” I asked.
“He is,” Rema frowned.
“Name?” I pressed.
“Maximilian Resian. He’s the Economic Minister of Syrvene.”
“So this is a port matter, not between our countries?” Syrvene was a port city like Bringla and Ardenthal, belonging to Cyrvena, Goldenspire’s largest trading partner in Novena. If the emissary were from Syrvene, he could be like Serpahin, a head merchant. However, if he were like Benjamin Hughes, an economic minister from Cyrvena’s capital, it would be a serious problem.
“It appears to be an economic trip,” Rema replied. “He’s fascinated by your steel products and pleased by your lower grain prices. However, he’s still standing firm against your takeover, so make sure to use tact.”
“Alright.” I nodded.
Rema gulped, and she looked me in the eye. “Seriously, Ryker. These people are of another caliber.”
I studied her expressions, biting her lip, averting my gaze, and trembling while holding her forearms. ‘She’s genuinely scared,’ I thought. Then I looked her in the eyes and spoke up, “I’ll use tact.”
Rema’s eyes widened in astonishment, relief washing over her face. Just the sight annoyed me, so I turned away and awaited Zenith and Thea to finish applying her makeup.
When they exited, I followed the redhead through the Golden Cathedral to my council chambers, where maids bustled around, bringing tea and snacks to the man.
As I entered, all the servants parted and greeted me, opening the door and revealing a man wearing a bicorn hat and an undeniably… modern white waistcoat.
Ish. It was gaudy 18th-century wear that made me cringe at first sight. ‘I thought we could escape cravats, but that was idealistic,’ I silently lamented.
Around his neck was the traditional neckcloth that looked like a tie had breakfast with a scarf on a nobleman’s neck. It was unbelievably gaudy and undeniably European.
More importantly, that meant that a reincarnator once—or still—lived in Cyrvena’s region.
“Greetings, Mr. Resian,” I greeted, triggering the man to bow and lift his hat. “King Everwood”
I narrowed my eyes at his accent, which seemed like a bastardized French accent thrown over the top of another language, adding an unnatural twang to a language that used the Y’s liberally.
Maximilian took Thea’s hand and tried to kiss it, but she sharply pulled back, making his eyes widen and Rema’s fill with panic. The redhead tried to cover for her, but I spoke first.
“Please forgive my partner,” I bowed. “She comes from a culture where such contact is a sign of insult. But please continue with Princess Redfield and my close ally Princess Veil.
Maximilian’s eyes narrowed, but his expression melted when he stared at the two beauties that exuded a regal elegance that the catkin did not.
He grabbed Rema’s hand, kissing it with more ceremony than necessary. He tried to do the same for Zenith, but the princess, while exuding grace and form, seemed infinitely less approachable.
“Have you enjoyed the treats?” I asked, motioning for him to sit before his tea and cookies.
The corner of his lips curved into a smile. “Yes. I’ve never tasted sweets so crisp and delightful. Are these from your world?”
“That’s right,” I confirmed. Knowledge of my reincarnation was famous, so hiding it was pointless. “I believe he could make some treats specifically suited to your leader’s palate.”
Maximilian’s eyes sharpened, confirming my suspicions. Cyrvenan merchants likely saw steel, cannons, and chocolate and confirmed that I was from Earth after the 18th century or was spying on them. After all, judging by his attire, there was no way they didn’t have cannons.
Since trade between Antigua and Novena was limited to ports and information gathering was a national offense, likely due to a deal with the Wreaths, the revelation made me nervous.
“You imply that you know something of our nation.” Maximilian narrowed his eyes. “Do you understand that information gathering outside our ports is a declaration of war?”
The room’s temperature dropped multiple degrees as he stared at me.
I looked at his attire. “Where I’m from, your attire is similar to European attire. Does the word ‘French’ mean anything to you?”
Maximilian’s eyes widened, and he balled his fist as if looking to grab onto something but found nothing.
Rema sucked her teeth, Thea and Zenith’s eyes sharpened, and their bodies tensed. The man’s aura was not weak, and they were prepared for a battle if necessary.
“Do you understand the gravity of your words?” Maximilian asked. “Such a word is not common in our society, meaning that your words raise questions about espionage.”
Translation: That word is limited to the nobility, so you shouldn’t have heard it from merchants, indicating spying. Worse, you may know our leader is also a reincarnator.
Rema smiled wryly, taking a deep breath.
“Yes, but having similar weapons will instantly trigger war,” I replied. “Or did you come here without knowing how I destroyed Bringla’s harbor?”
Translation: We share weapons, yet you’re worried about a word? Right now, war is guaranteed.
Maximilian’s frown turned to a scowl, but he took a deep breath and drank his tea, calming his breathing. “Tell me, King Everwood,” he said. “What do you think we should do about this?”
“I believe you should allow me to prove my knowledge is legitimate,” I suggested, taking a drink of my tea. While he was concerned, I wasn’t. “If I can create things your leader remembers but do not exist, it would prove it, would it not?”
The emissary chuckled. “Do you think that I would disclose information about our leader?”
“If it’s required to prevent a greater conflict, I believe you would,” I argued, placing my cup on the saucer. “Due to the nature of our relationship, conflict is inevitable, but that would deprive you of iron ore and cause intercontinental problems, will it not?”
Maximilian stood up. “I will return home and request that you have six months to prove your legitimacy,” he said, wiping his hands on a napkin and throwing it. “Until then, I refuse to speak to someone who doesn’t address this with the gravity it deserves.”
He stomped to the door. “My emotional range is limited, Mr. Resian,” I called out, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll prove my legitimacy in six months.”
‘And have warships ready,’ I silently added.
Maximilian stood silent for a moment before walking out the door, using less energy.
Rema turned to me. “Thank you for using tact there.”
“I tried,” I responded.
The redhead shook her head. “You succeeded. That was the most you could offer, given the situation.”
I sighed when she left, staring at the ceiling. “At least I don’t need her reminding me how terrible that was.”
“What are you going to do, Young Master?” Zenith asked. “Should we prepare for war?”
“Absolutely,” I chuckled. “But we should avoid it at all costs.”
Thea turned to me with a hesitant glance. “Can you do it? Prove it?”
“Of course, I can,” I smiled wryly. “But I don’t know what Cyrvena has, and the last thing that they want is for me to mass-produce and disseminate their secrets.”
The atmosphere turned grave. It was a lose-lose situation.
“So, what’s your plan?” Zenith asked.
“It’s almost summer, so I’ll introduce the cotton gin, a modern loom, and textile treatment,” I replied, staring at the ceiling. “Those three things will allow us to mass-produce clothing. Maybe I can produce British, Austrian, Russian, Prussian, and Spanish clothing as well….”
Zenith frowned at my mumbling. “I’ll just take that as you having a plan?”
“Yes, I have a plan,” I smiled.
Europe is a relatively small area, tightly packed with countries. If Cyrvena’s leader is still alive, they’ll recognize garb from other countries. While some might trigger them, they’ll see that there’s enough to prove I wasn’t from a warring nation.
Yes, that was a perfect idea.
I suppose I wouldn’t be bored anymore. It’s officially time to mass-produce textiles.
-
[A/N: I hope this chapter puts the pacing requirements into perspective. Everything Ryker does takes months or years, and technology needs time to mature. That’s why this novel takes place over a hundred years despite only being three novels.]
