Chapter 131: A Year Later
Spring arrived early in the year 1514.
By the time Ernest’s carriage entered Oriel, the fields surrounding the district had already turned green, and the last traces of winter mud had begun drying along the roadside. Farmers worked beneath clear skies while carts moved steadily between markets, warehouses, and the industrial roads leading toward Helmarte.
Much had changed during the past year.
The differences appeared before the carriage even reached Arcada.
Wooden poles stood along both sides of the main road, spaced at regular intervals and connected by heavy copper conductors carried on glazed ceramic insulators. Beneath them, narrower lines branched toward workshops, public buildings, and several residential streets. Iron street lamps had been installed at major intersections, each holding a sealed glass bulb instead of an oil reservoir.
They were unlit beneath the morning sun.
Still, their presence changed the appearance of the district completely.
Hollen sat opposite Ernest and watched the poles pass outside the window.
"I remember when those roads had nothing but trees."
Ernest glanced toward him.
"There are still trees."
"Yes, but now there are wires between them."
"That is an improvement."
"That depends on who you ask."
The older man leaned closer to the window as the carriage passed beneath another line.
"How much copper did we use again?"
"Across the entire first-phase network?"
"Yes."
"Approximately three hundred and eighty tons."
Hollen slowly turned toward him.
"Three hundred and eighty tons."
"That includes the main feeders, district distribution lines, building connections, switchboards, generator windings, replacement stock, and grounding conductors."
"I was happier before you explained it."
Ernest smiled.
The amount had been enormous, but not unexpected. Electrifying Oriel required more than installing lamps. Every conductor needed enough cross-sectional area to carry current without overheating. Longer routes required thicker copper to reduce voltage drop. Public buildings and workshops consumed more power than homes, while the main lines connecting the generating station to each district had to carry the combined demand of entire neighborhoods.
Copper had become one of the project’s largest expenses.
Fortunately, the telegraph industry had already created wire-drawing workshops capable of producing long, consistent conductors. Those facilities had required substantial expansion, but without them, the Oriel project would have been impossible.
The carriage continued deeper into Arcada.
Unlike Beryl and Apex, the district had changed in ways that went beyond poles and wires. A wide industrial road now connected the southern market to a large brick complex near the river. Two tall chimneys rose above the surrounding rooftops, releasing thin streams of gray smoke into the spring air.
The Oriel Central Power Station.
Even from a distance, the building dominated the southern edge of the district.
The main generating hall extended nearly seventy meters from end to end. Beside it stood the boiler house, coal yard, water-treatment building, machine workshop, ash storage yard, and administrative offices. Railway tracks had not yet reached Oriel, so coal still arrived by wagon from Helmarte and the western mines, though Ernest had deliberately reserved land for future sidings.
He had learned not to build anything without considering railways.
Arthur guided the carriage through the power station gates.
Workers immediately stepped aside as the horses slowed near the entrance. Several engineers waited beneath the stone portico, led by Samuel Wren and Master Edwin. Both men looked older than they had a year earlier.
Not dramatically older.
Only tired in the particular way created by long projects, impossible deadlines, and Ernest Teucher.
Samuel bowed.
"Master Ernest. Master Hollen."
Ernest stepped down from the carriage.
"How are the preparations?"
"Final inspections were completed before sunrise."
"Any major faults?"
"No major faults."
That wording caught his attention.
"Minor ones?"
Samuel handed him a report.
"Three loose service connections in Arcada, one cracked insulator in Beryl, and a leaking lubricating line on the second engine. All have been corrected."
Ernest scanned the report quickly.
"What about the Apex feeder?"
"Passed the insulation test yesterday evening. The voltage drop remained within your limit."
"Good."
Hollen climbed down after him and looked toward the chimneys.
"I still cannot believe we paid for all of this ourselves."
Ernest folded the report.
"We agreed that government funding would come after the demonstration."
"I remember."
The older man looked around the power station yard.
"I simply did not understand what ’all of this’ meant at the time."
That was probably true.
The original estimate had placed the first phase near one hundred forty million riels. The final cost reached one hundred sixty-eight million after the price of copper increased, the boiler foundations required reinforcement, and Ernest approved larger district stations to allow future expansion.
Every riel came from Teucher Industrial Group.
It was the largest private infrastructure investment in the kingdom’s history.
Possibly on the continent.
Ernest walked toward the generating hall.
"Let’s begin inside."
The heavy doors opened.
Heat and sound greeted them immediately.
The station had not yet begun full operation, but the boiler house was already active. Two of the three Lancashire boilers had fires burning beneath them while workers moved along the firing floor with shovels and long iron tools. Coal disappeared into the twin furnaces, heating large cylindrical shells filled with treated water.
The third boiler remained cold as reserve equipment.
That had been deliberate.
A power station required redundancy.
If every boiler needed to operate merely to meet normal demand, then one failure would shut down the network. Ernest had designed the station so that two boilers could support the initial electrical load while the third remained available during maintenance, breakdowns, or sudden increases in demand.
Hollen wiped sweat from his forehead.
"It feels like summer in here."
"Boiler houses are rarely comfortable."
"Someone should invent a machine that cools buildings."
Ernest stopped walking.
Hollen immediately pointed a finger at him.
"No."
"I did not say anything."
"You were thinking."
Ernest continued walking without answering.
The older man muttered something behind him about creating problems by accident.
Samuel led them along an elevated walkway where pressure gauges, water-level glasses, steam valves, and feedwater pipes lined the boilers. Each unit measured nearly nine meters long and over two meters in diameter. Reinforced brickwork surrounded the furnaces, while large flues carried hot gases toward the chimneys.
Ernest stopped beside the first boiler.
"Operating pressure?"
"One hundred twenty pounds per square inch."
"Feedwater temperature?"
"Seventy-eight degrees."
"Coal rate?"
"Three and a half tons per hour at present firing."
He looked toward the gauge.
The needle held steady.
Good.
The boilers did not require full firing yet. The engines would only receive load during the afternoon test, when street lamps, public buildings, and selected homes were energized simultaneously.
Until then, the crews were raising steam slowly.
Fast heating damaged boilers.
Metal expanded unevenly.
Seams strained.
Tubes leaked.
Patience prevented expensive repairs.
They entered the engine hall through a fire-resistant iron door.
Three generating units stood in a straight line across the building.
Each consisted of a horizontal compound steam engine connected directly to a large electrical generator. The high-pressure cylinder received steam first, extracting part of its energy before sending it into a larger low-pressure cylinder. Expanding steam pushed both pistons, turning a common crankshaft and heavy flywheel.
The arrangement produced more work from the same amount of coal than a simple engine.
Each machine could generate approximately one megawatt at full load, giving the station three megawatts of installed capacity. The building also contained an empty reinforced foundation beside the third unit, reserved for a fourth generator once demand increased.
Hollen noticed the empty section.
"You left space for another one."
"Of course."
"We have not even started using these three."
"We will need the fourth eventually."
"How eventually?"
Ernest considered the expected growth.
"Within two years."
Hollen closed his eyes briefly.
Samuel looked away to hide a smile.
They approached the first generator.
Its iron frame stood taller than Ernest’s shoulders, with thick copper windings hidden inside the casing and a rotating armature connected to the steam engine shaft. Brushes rested against the commutator, ready to collect the electrical current produced when the armature rotated through the magnetic field.
The equipment looked rough compared to generators from Ernest’s previous life.
Exposed in places where modern standards would demand protective enclosures.
Still, it worked.
That was what mattered.
Master Edwin stood beside the bearing housing.
"We completed the mechanical run yesterday."
"Unloaded?"
"Yes. Three hours at rated speed."
"Bearing temperature?"
"Forty-six degrees at the hottest point."
"Vibration?"
"Low. The third unit has slightly more movement near the coupling, but it remains within the allowable range."
Ernest crouched and examined the alignment marks.
The foundation bolts remained tight.
Oil filled the sight glass.
No visible leakage.
He placed one hand against the frame.
Cool for now.
That would change once the copper windings carried current.
"Insulation resistance?"
"Passed on all three machines."
"Commutator condition?"
"Clean."
"Brush pressure?"
"Adjusted this morning."
Ernest stood.
"Good."
Hollen looked between the machine and the engineers.
"I understood none of that."
"You do not need to."
"I am the one paying for it."
"That does not make you an electrician."
"That seems unfair."
The inspection continued toward the switchboard gallery.
A long wall of polished wood supported copper busbars, heavy knife switches, ceramic insulators, fuses, ammeters, voltmeters, and district control handles. Each feeder had been labeled carefully.
Beryl.
Apex.
Arcada.
Street Lighting.
Public Buildings.
Emergency Circuits.
The panel allowed operators to disconnect any district without shutting down the entire station. If a line failed in Apex, Arcada could remain energized. If street lighting required maintenance, homes and public buildings could continue receiving power.
That separation was essential.
A network without sectional control was not a network.
It was one large accident waiting to happen.
Ernest ran his eyes over the instruments.
"Have the district crews reported?"
Samuel checked his watch.
"Arcada is ready. Beryl completed final patrol an hour ago. Apex is testing the last group of estate connections."
"And the lamps?"
"Eight hundred eighty-seven street lamps installed. Eight hundred seventy-nine passed last night’s low-voltage continuity test."
Ernest frowned.
"What happened to the remaining eight?"
"Six defective filaments. Two broken glass bulbs."
"Replace all eight before sunset."
"Already underway."
Ernest nodded.
Good.
The network was almost ready.
Almost.
The difference between almost ready and ready often decided whether a demonstration ended in applause or fire.
He walked toward the large windows overlooking the yard.
Beyond the station, poles and copper lines stretched outward through Oriel. They disappeared between rooftops, crossed roads, climbed hills, and divided toward the three districts. Thousands of connections waited at the far ends.
One station.
Three districts.
Nearly two thousand properties.
Hundreds of street lamps.
For the past year, workers had dug foundations, installed poles, stretched copper, wired buildings, trained operators, and tested every section repeatedly.
Today they would find out whether all those parts could function together.
Hollen joined him at the window.
"Nervous?"
"Yes."
The older man looked surprised by the honesty.
"You usually say confident."
"I am confident."
"That does not sound like the same thing."
"It is not."
Ernest watched smoke rise from the chimneys.
Confidence came from preparation.
Nervousness came from understanding how many things could still go wrong.
The second boiler could lose pressure.
A generator bearing could overheat.
A feeder could short.
A poorly installed service wire could start a fire.
Hundreds of failures remained possible.
Engineering did not eliminate risk.
It reduced risk until action became reasonable.
Samuel approached them.
"Master Ernest, the station crew is ready to begin the preliminary synchronization test."
Ernest turned from the window.
"Start Unit One at noon. Bring it to rated speed without load, then connect Arcada’s public circuit only."
"And Unit Two?"
"Hold it warm. We add it only after Unit One carries the first load cleanly."
Samuel nodded and departed to relay the instructions.
Hollen watched him go.
"So this is only the beginning."
"Yes."
"And the full test happens tonight."
"Yes."
The older man stared toward the three silent generators.
"What if it fails?"
Ernest looked at the switchboard, the boilers, and the network stretching beyond the station walls.
"Then we identify what failed, repair it, and test again."
Hollen gave a slow nod.
"That sounds disappointingly reasonable."
"It usually is."
Outside, the clock tower in Arcada struck eleven.
One hour remained before the first generator began turning under steam.
For the first time since construction began, Oriel’s entire electrical system stood complete and waiting.
The poles were raised.
The copper was connected.
The boilers held water.
The engines held oil.
The generators were ready.
By sunset, every calculation Ernest had made during the previous year would face the only test that mattered.