Chapter 130: Start Writing Letters
The following morning arrived beneath a pale autumn sky.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains long before Ernest opened his eyes. For several moments he simply lay still, listening to the quiet sounds that had become familiar since moving into Oriel Estate.
Somewhere downstairs, servants had already begun preparing breakfast.
Outside, birds called from the trees lining the estate gardens while the distant murmur of the hydroelectric station drifted faintly through the open window. The sound was almost soothing now. Six months ago, the valley beyond the estate had contained nothing more than a stream winding between rocky banks. Now turbines rotated beneath stone foundations, transforming falling water into electricity every hour of the day.
He smiled faintly.
It was strange how quickly extraordinary things became ordinary.
Eventually he threw aside the blanket and climbed out of bed.
The wooden floor felt pleasantly warm beneath his feet thanks to the radiator installed beneath the bedroom windows. The heating boiler had already been running for nearly an hour, circulating hot water through copper pipes hidden inside the walls of the manor.
Another luxury he rarely thought about anymore.
That, Ernest reflected, was usually the greatest compliment any technology could receive.
Once people stopped noticing it, it had become part of everyday life.
He crossed the room toward the adjoining bathroom, changed into a fresh linen shirt, and opened the brass faucet above the porcelain washbasin.
Clear water flowed immediately.
Even after all this time, the simple act still brought a quiet sense of satisfaction.
Gravity never failed.
The water tower behind the estate stood nearly fifteen meters above ground level, constantly supplied by steam-driven pumps drawing from the nearby stream. Once the reservoir filled, water pressure remained almost perfectly constant throughout the manor.
After washing and dressing, Ernest made his way downstairs where the dining room had already been prepared.
Anna looked up first.
"Good morning."
"Morning, Mother."
Victor folded his newspaper and nodded.
"You’re earlier than usual."
"I actually slept."
His father laughed.
"I was beginning to wonder whether engineers required sleep at all."
"They do."
"They certainly don’t act like it."
Breakfast passed comfortably.
Fresh bread arrived first, followed by smoked ham, eggs, butter, fruit preserves, and hot coffee. Conversation stayed light. Anna spoke about the estate gardens, Victor mentioned that one of the machine shop supervisors had finally learned how to submit reports without forgetting half the inventory numbers, and Ernest mostly listened while finishing his coffee.
Eventually Ernest checked the clock mounted above the fireplace.
"I should get going."
Victor nodded knowingly.
"Hollen?"
"Hollen."
"I almost feel sorry for him."
Ernest smiled.
"So do I."
Anna looked between the two of them.
"What have you done this time?"
"I haven’t done anything yet."
Victor chuckled.
"That’s exactly what worries him."
A few minutes later Arthur brought the carriage around to the front entrance.
Roland handed Ernest his coat.
"The office has already received today’s correspondence, sir."
"Anything urgent?"
"Nothing beyond the usual production reports."
"Good."
Arthur climbed into the driver’s seat while the horses pulled smoothly away from Oriel Estate.
The journey toward Helmarte Machine Works had become almost routine over the past few years.
The road wound past workshops, warehouses, and newly constructed residential streets before gradually merging into the wider industrial district.
Traffic increased noticeably the closer they came.
Coal wagons.
Timber carts.
Merchants delivering supplies.
Workers walking toward the factories carrying lunch pails over their shoulders.
Three years earlier the road had been little more than packed dirt connecting scattered workshops.
Now it resembled the main artery of a growing industrial town.
Ernest watched it through the carriage window.
Industrialization had a curious habit of creating its own momentum.
Build one factory, and suppliers appeared.
Build another, and housing followed.
Soon roads required widening, merchants established permanent shops, blacksmiths expanded, schools appeared for workers’ children, and before long an entirely new district existed where empty fields had stood only a few years before.
Cities, he realized, were simply industries that had grown large enough to require neighborhoods.
The carriage eventually rolled through the familiar gates of Helmarte Machine Works.
Steam drifted above the workshops exactly as it did every morning.
The rhythmic pounding of the forge echoed across the yard while overhead shafting inside the machine halls hummed steadily beneath steam power.
Workers greeted him as he crossed the courtyard.
"Morning, Master Ernest."
"Good morning."
He returned each greeting with a nod before climbing the staircase toward the administrative offices.
The moment he stepped inside, he found Hollen already sitting behind a mountain of ledgers.
Without looking up, the older man spoke.
"I know that expression."
Ernest stopped.
"What expression?"
"The one that usually costs us money."
Only then did Hollen raise his head.
His eyes narrowed immediately.
"...Why are you smiling?"
Ernest pulled a rolled district map from beneath his arm and laid it across the conference table.
"Because I have another project."
Hollen closed his ledger.
"I knew it."
"You say that every time."
"And I’m always right."
Ernest unrolled the map, revealing Oriel divided into its three districts.
Hollen leaned forward.
"...This isn’t another invention, is it?"
"No."
The older man visibly relaxed.
"Good."
"It’s infrastructure."
Hollen sighed so deeply that Ernest almost laughed.
"I’m not sure that’s any better."
"It isn’t."
For a few seconds they simply looked at the map together.
Finally Ernest spoke.
"We need the same people who built the hydroelectric station."
"The civil engineers?"
"All of them."
"The surveyors too?"
"Especially the surveyors."
Hollen frowned.
"The station already exists."
"I know."
"So why do you need them again?"
Ernest pointed toward the roads winding through Beryl, Apex, and Arcada.
"Because this time we aren’t building one power station."
He traced the routes leading through every neighborhood.
"We’re building an electrical network."
Hollen followed his finger until realization slowly spread across his face.
"...You’re serious."
"I’ve never been more serious."
He looked up.
"The king wants proof that electricity can power more than one building."
"So we’re giving him an entire community."
"Exactly."
Silence lingered between them for several moments.
Finally Hollen leaned back and gave the same resigned smile Ernest had seen dozens of times over the past three years.
"I suppose I’d better start writing letters."