The Reformer

Adrian sighed. 'Well, if that's all that can be done. .'

the artisan is not being entirely truthful, Center pointed out. An image of his face sprang up, with pointers indicating temperature variations and the dilation of his pupils. mendacity factor of 27 %, ±7. i suspect that he is merely establishing an initial bargaining position.

Oh, Adrian thought. He was the son of a merchant, but most of his life had been spent among the Scholars of the Grove. What should I do?

Well, I wasn't a trader either, Raj's mental voice said, amused. But I did do a fair bit of dickering with sutlers. I'd suggest you say that's not enough to make the project worthwhile. He'll scream and modify his terms; then point out that he and his friends will be able to sell the muskets elsewhere, too. .

* * *

'What is this, a flowerpot?' the brassfounder said.

'No, it's a weapon,' Adrian replied, biting back the first words that came to mind. 'The one the King has commanded me to build,' he added.

'May the King live forever!' the artisan said, without taking his eyes off the model Adrian had had carved from soft wood.

The Emerald's hands trembled slightly as he pulled on it. Not enough sleep, he thought to himself as the model split down the middle.

'This is a-' He paused, frustrated. What's 'cross-sectional view' in Islander? he thought.

Lad, there's no word for it. There's no word for it in your language either, Raj said.

'— what it would look like if it was cut down the middle?' Adrian said. Have I changed so much in a year?

He shook aside the obscure sense of instability that lay like a lump of cold millet porridge below his breastbone for a moment. The reasonable man did not doubt that he himself was, the School of the Grove taught.

The brassfounder was in a bigger way of business than any of the smiths; he was a merchant, as well as the manager of a workshop. Iron was much more common than copper, vastly more common than tin. You had to have long-distance contacts to deal in bronze. Hence the warehouse attached to his house, and the courtyard with its ruddy tile and fountain, that Islander symbol of status. The man's turban was of plain cotton, though, and the eyes below it were shrewd and dark.

'Like a tube closed at one end, then,' he said, tracing the model. 'You know, this trick might be useful for making preliminary models of castings of many types. . and the metal outside the tube grows much thicker towards the closed end. What's this, though?'

'It's a thin hole going from the outside-this depression-into the tube at the breech end. The closed end,' he added, at the man's frown.

'Hmmm. Well, with bronze, it would be simpler to drill that afterwards. And what are these little solid tubes at right angles to the main one for?'

'You'll find out,' Adrian said, smiling slightly.

Good. We don't want too much getting out too early, and I'd be surprised if some of these people aren't for sale, Raj said.

Or all of them, Adrian replied.

* * *

'Well, you make pumps with close-fitting pistons, don't you?' he said.

'Of course, honored sir,' the metalworker said. 'By lapping-you use the piston head to do the last little bit of boring out, covering it with naxium-emery is your Emerald word, I think. That will give you a very close fit.'

'Well, then, that's how we'll make this engine work,' he said, forcing cheerfulness into his voice.

'Yes, but I really don't think it can be done with iron,' the metalworker replied. 'Iron is too hard-and too hard to cast, honored sir. By the Sun God, I speak the truth.'

Adrian sighed and let his head drop into his hands. My back hurts, he thought; he was never, never going to get used to sitting cross-legged on cushions.

'All right,' he said. 'We'll start off by using bronze for the pistons. We want two, to begin with, six inches in bore and four feet long. But the piston rods will have to be made of iron-wrought iron.'

'Hmm-auhm,' the Islander-his name was Marzel, a plump little man with a snuff-colored turban-said.

He picked up the model Adrian had had made by standing over a toycrafter. It showed a single upright cylinder, with a piston rod coming out of its top. The rod connected to one end of a beam; the beam was pivoted in the middle, and the other end had a second rod that worked a crank, that in turn moved a wheel with paddles.

'I've seen wheels like this used to move grindstones,' Marzel said. 'This is the same thing in reverse, isn't it?'

Gray-Eyed Lady, thank You, Adrian thought. Finally, someone who understands what I'm talking about!

'Exactly!' he said aloud. 'The steam pushes the piston, the piston pushes the beam up and down, the crank turns that into around and around, and the wheel pushes the ship-one on each side.'

'Hmmm-auhm,' Marzel mused again. 'You know, honored sir, one could use this to move a grindstone, too.'

A hecatomb of oxen to you, Lady of Wisdom. Aloud: 'Yes, it could-think of it as a way of transforming firewood into work, the way a man or a velipad converts food into work.'

Marzel laughed aloud. 'Ah, you have a divine wit, honored sir!' He returned to the model. 'So, let me see if I have grasped this. The steam goes through these valves here, at each end of the cylinder. As the piston moves, it uncovers these two rows of outlets here at the middle of the cylinder, letting the steam escape.'

At Adrian's nod, the artificer turned back to the plans, tracing lines across the reed-paper with a finger and then referring back to the model.

'Honored sir,' he said at last, 'I love this thing you have designed-so clever, you Emeralds! Yes, I love the thought of making it. But I am not sure that it can be made, in the world of real things. In the. . how do you Emeralds say it? In the world of Pure Forms, yes, this will work as you say. But it has so many valves, so much piping, so many joints, you see. Holding water in such a thing, for say the fountains and curious metal beasts in the Garden of Curiosities in the King's Palace, that is difficult. Holding hot steam. . can fittings be made precisely enough? Even with the finest craftsmen? And these parts will be large.'

Adrian nodded in respect for the man's honesty; and his courage, expressing doubts here in the palace rather than telling the royal favorite whatever he wanted to hear.

'I am certain that if any man can do it, Marzel Therdu, you can,' he said. 'And I am certain that it can be done.' He spread his hands and smiled. 'And my head answers for it, if it cannot, not yours.'

Marzel rose and made the gesture of respect, bowing with palms pressed together. 'Perhaps. . Perhaps we would be well advised to try first a model of this thing, this. . hot water mover?'

'Steam engine.'

'Steam engine, then. Not a toy model, although that was useful. A working model, enough to drive a small launch, of the type rowed by ten men?'

probability of success of steam ram project has increased to 61 % ±7, Center said. as always, stochastic analysis cannot fully compensate for human variability.

Adrian smiled; if that had been a human voice speaking aloud, and not a supernatural machine whispering at the back of his mind, he'd have sworn there was a rasp of exasperation in it-rather the way one of the professors of Political Theory in the Academy had spoken of the Confederacy of Vanbert's Constitution; it should not work, but it did.