Chapter 135: The Modernization Plan Part 1
Three days after King Edward witnessed Oriel glowing beneath electric light, Ernest returned to the Royal Palace.
This time, the invitation had not come from the king alone.
The Royal Council had been summoned.
By the time Ernest entered the council chamber, nearly every seat surrounding the long table was occupied. Prime Minister William Ashford sat to the king’s right, while the Minister of Finance, the Minister of Public Works, the Minister of Health, the Royal Treasurer, and several senior council members waited with ledgers and reports arranged before them.
The atmosphere felt different from his earlier meetings.
There was no curiosity this time.
This was government.
Every man present understood that the discussion could affect the kingdom for generations.
King Edward stood near the head of the table while several large maps of Helmarte covered the wall behind him. The city had been divided into districts, roads, industrial zones, markets, residential neighborhoods, government quarters, and military compounds.
Ernest immediately noticed that copies of his preliminary electrical estimates had already been distributed.
That explained the expressions around the table.
Some looked interested.
Others looked concerned.
The Royal Treasurer looked personally offended by the numbers.
"Baron Teucher," King Edward greeted. "Thank you for coming."
Ernest bowed.
"It is an honor, Your Majesty."
The king gestured toward an empty chair near the maps.
"Sit. I have already informed the council of what we witnessed at Oriel."
The Minister of Finance, a thin man in his early sixties named Lord Harold Fenwick, adjusted the spectacles resting upon his nose.
"We have read the reports."
His tone remained polite.
Carefully polite.
The sort of politeness used by officials preparing to question an expensive idea.
Ernest took his seat.
King Edward remained standing.
"Gentlemen, I asked Baron Teucher to demonstrate whether electricity could serve more than a single estate. He illuminated three districts, public roads, businesses, workshops, and residences without serious failure."
The king looked around the table.
"I believe that question has been answered."
Several ministers nodded.
The Royal Treasurer did not.
Lord Fenwick glanced toward Ernest.
"Your estimates for electrifying Helmarte range from seven hundred million riels for an initial system to several billion for complete expansion."
"Correct."
"And you believe construction would require at least three years."
"For electricity alone."
That answer immediately changed the room.
Lord Fenwick’s fingers stopped above his ledger.
The Minister of Public Works, Lord Marcus Hale, leaned forward.
"What do you mean by electricity alone?"
Ernest had expected that question.
He stood and approached the blackboard positioned beside the city map. Picking up a piece of chalk, he wrote a title across the upper section.
Modern Capital Infrastructure.
Then he wrote six categories beneath it.
Electricity.
Water Supply.
Sewer System.
Storm Drainage.
Road Reconstruction.
Underground Utility Corridors.
For several moments, nobody spoke.
The king’s expression sharpened with interest.
Lord Fenwick looked less pleased.
"You were summoned to discuss electric lighting," he said.
"I understand."
Ernest placed the chalk down for a moment.
"But electrifying Helmarte without addressing the city beneath it would be a mistake."
Lord Hale frowned.
"The city beneath it?"
Ernest turned toward the large map.
"Most of Helmarte’s roads were built before anyone imagined underground water mains, sewers, electrical conduits, or modern drainage. If we install electrical lines now and return five years later to construct water pipes, we will dig up the same streets twice."
He raised another finger.
"If we add sewers ten years after that, we dig them up a third time."
Another.
"When the roads finally require replacement, we disturb everything again."
The Minister of Public Works slowly looked toward the city map.
Ernest continued.
"Every excavation disrupts trade, damages roads, delays transport, and increases cost. If the kingdom intends to modernize Helmarte, then we should stop thinking of these systems as separate projects."
He picked up the chalk again and drew several parallel lines beneath a street section.
Water main.
Sewer line.
Storm drain.
Electrical conduit.
Telegraph conduit.
"Lay everything together."
The room became quiet.
Prime Minister Ashford leaned back slowly.
Understanding appeared on his face first.
"You’re not proposing to electrify Helmarte."
Ernest looked toward him.
"No."
Lord Ashford’s eyes moved toward the diagram.
"You’re proposing to rebuild it."
That statement settled over the council chamber with considerably more weight than any cost estimate.
Ernest nodded.
"Exactly."
The Royal Treasurer closed his eyes.
"That sounds more expensive."
"It is."
At least Ernest had no intention of hiding that.
King Edward walked closer to the blackboard.
"Explain the rest."
Ernest pointed toward the first category.
"Electricity extends operating hours, improves street safety, powers machinery, and reduces dependence on candles and oil."
His chalk moved downward.
"Clean water improves public health, supports indoor plumbing, and reduces dependence on shallow wells that become contaminated during floods."
Another line.
"A sewer system removes human waste from densely populated areas before it enters drinking water."
The Minister of Health, Doctor Alistair Monroe, looked up immediately.
That part had his full attention.
Ernest continued.
"Storm drains carry rainwater away from streets. Without them, roads flood, foundations weaken, and sewage overflows into neighborhoods."
He stepped back and looked around the table.
"These systems support one another."
Lord Monroe folded his hands.
"You believe contaminated water causes many of the city’s illnesses."
"I’m certain of it."
The doctor studied him carefully.
"Certain?"
"Yes."
Ernest knew the germ theory of disease had not been properly established in Belfast. Physicians understood that filth and illness often appeared together, but they lacked the complete scientific explanation.
He chose his words cautiously.
"Waste enters wells and streams. People drink that water. Illness spreads through households and neighborhoods. We may not see what causes it, but the pattern is clear."
Lord Monroe remained silent.
He could not easily dispute that.
Helmarte experienced severe outbreaks of intestinal illness almost every summer, especially in major cities and the riverside districts. The poorest neighborhoods relied upon wells dug dangerously close to latrines and refuse pits.
The Ministry of Health possessed years of records proving the pattern.