“I hope we can make wax stencils using just normal wax, but if we can’t, I’ll try to get the wax workshop’s help improving the wax. I would want them to add resin similar to (pine) resin to make it a little stickier.”
Wax used for mimeograph wax stencils had pine resin or paraffin mixed into it, but since they definitely didn’t have any paraffin made from crude petroleum here, I wasn’t sure how far that knowledge would take me here. Given the strange coloration that we had seen with the colored ink, it was more than likely that weird stuff would happen to the wax as well, so I really wanted the help of a professional.
“Hmm. Alright, we’re just buying stuff today. We only need to get involved if you fail at whatever it is you’re doing, right?”
“Right.”
Benno entered the wax workshop with me in tow. The heat inside was oppressive, and the stench of what seemed like animal fat was so thick that it made me want to hold my nose.
The foreman came to see us right away since Benno had sent word of our arrival ahead of time.
“Good to see you, Benno. What business brings you here today?”
“Could you pour your cheapest wax into these?” I asked, holding out my and Gil’s diptychs. The foreman nodded and did so right away, remembering me from last time.
Gil stared at the clear wax eagerly. He hadn’t touched it yet since we had told him to wait until the wax had hardened, but he was grinning with excitement anyway. Every now and again he would blow onto it, trying to speed up the cooling process. It was a little cute.
“Gil, if you do that, the wax may have an uneven surface when it hardens,” I said with a smile. Gil jerked and looked in my direction.
“Yeah, she’s definitely right,” Lutz added. “She poked hers a lot while it was hardening and it ended up pretty bumpy.”
“Lutz, shut up!” I glared at him for spilling my secrets for no reason, and Gil stepped away from his diptych while laughing a little. Apparently he didn’t want to repeat my mistake.
“Hey, Benno. There’s gotta be something else, right? You wouldn’t’ve contacted us if all you needed was this,” the foreman said, walking over to Benno after putting away his tools.
Benno nodded. “Yeah. I want a small box of every kind of wax you sell here.”
“E-Every kind? You’re not after candles like usual?”
“Yeah, and don’t mix ’em up. We want your wax, not your candles.”
Benno’s order left the foreman dumbfounded. The owner of a major store like the Gilberta Company, who usually only came to get a specific number of candles of a particular size, was suddenly asking for every kind of wax he sold—and not even as candles. He never could have predicted that.
“What in the world do you need it for?”
“Now that, I can’t tell you yet.” Benno grinned, and the foreman put a hand on his cheek in thought. He knew Benno had been making new product after new product, and it was clear that he was wondering whether he was bearing witness to the next new invention.
“Alright. I’ll have ’em to your store by tomorrow.”
“Could I have one or two boxes of some wax you have on hand?”
“Yeah, I can get those no problem.” The foreman went into the busy workplace to speak to the workers. Then, once he returned, we left the workshop with two boxes of wax in hand.
“There. You can start working now, yeah?”
“Yep. Thanks, Benno.”
After returning to the Gilberta Company, I tapped cards with Benno to pay for the wax. I then wrote down the salting-out process on paper and worked out a price for him negotiating on my behalf. With that done, Benno would work things out with the wax workshop for me.
“Okay, let’s start experimenting as soon as we get back to the workshop,” I said, handing Gil the boxes of wax. Lutz gave a worried frown and grabbed my shoulders to stop me.
“Myne, hold on a second. What’re you doing? What’s the plan? You haven’t given us half of the explanation we need. Get us up to speed, then go back to the temple.”
Since I couldn’t do any work at the temple, it was necessary that I give my explanation first. My plan had been to do it in my director’s chambers, but it would probably be easier to keep the information under wraps by talking it over at the Gilberta Company.
I nodded. “You know the thin paper we made, right? We’re going to thinly apply wax to it. We’ll shave the wax down, sprinkle it onto the paper, and then use a (clothing iron) on it. That’s it! Simple, right?”
“Myne, what’s that and where can we get one?” Lutz gave a little frown at my simple explanation of how to make wax-covered paper. It seemed that the phrase “clothing iron” didn’t get carried over.
I tried to explain what it was while searching my memory. “U-Umm... It’s a piece of metal with a flat bottom that gets really hot and straightens out the wrinkles on cloth. Does that ring any bells? I would think they exist in clothing workshops or the homes of rich people.” Considering how smooth my robes had been when Corinna made them, I was pretty sure she had one.
Benno spoke up from the side. “Yeah, Corinna’s workshop has an iron. You need one?”
According to Benno, rich people and clothing workshops had wide pot-like things that they filled with charcoal to heat up. It resembled a charcoal iron from the past. My family naturally didn’t own one since we just wore secondhand clothes, and Lutz didn’t know about them for the same reason.
“Benno, do you sell irons in the Gilberta Company?”
“Nah, you gotta order those from a
