A update for the tv tropes? And map for Dalatyr as of 45 AI?
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Infrastructure (Original and Illustrated)
- Thread starter Zor
- Start date
- Original
Infrastructure: Aki and Miss Hatofski
Zor
More of a Zor than You
A new story post is mostly done and will be posted soon. In the meantime, here's something nice and quick...
Here we have two toys which belong to Yeva and Raya Dorsunov, the daughters of engineer Vitali Dorsunov. Aki is a plush Akula (shark) and belongs to Yeva and Miss Hatofski is a rag-doll Bureaucrat that belongs to Raya, both of which were made by a small toy-shop in Dalatyr and both are fairly common Infrastructural toys.
Here we have two toys which belong to Yeva and Raya Dorsunov, the daughters of engineer Vitali Dorsunov. Aki is a plush Akula (shark) and belongs to Yeva and Miss Hatofski is a rag-doll Bureaucrat that belongs to Raya, both of which were made by a small toy-shop in Dalatyr and both are fairly common Infrastructural toys.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Zor
More of a Zor than You
(Velnariath, Late Summer 45 IA)
Exhaustion, Frustration, Boredom and low key Dread. Those had been Reival ti'Valcas' primary emotions over the last five years.
As governor of Velnariath, he had a lot to do and little to do it with. Initially he had two hundred and ten Drow and five hundred slaves. Most of the former were drawn from the Discarded and half of the latter were Disposables. There was also the Khylhon in the first year, but she and her crew only provided minor aid early on and mostly loitered about in case of attack. Additional supplies and a couple hundred more settlers and slaves would be dropped off about twice a year. But even so this operation was still little more than a dingy village. There was a couple make-shift taverns, the occasional hunt and some improvised bands, poetry contests and sparing matches, but there was still little diversion in this sweltering land. His wife Kyrial had made that clear.
Not that setting it up was in any sense easy. The first goal on arrival was establishing shelter, storehouses, a dock, pens for animals, wells, defensive fortifications, collecting rock samples, setting up wards and coaxing what crops they could out of the dry soil. He did more shovelling in the first year than he'd ever expected to do in his life on top of the paperwork and meetings. Work on such things would continue with new arrivals, but once the basics of survival had been achieved other ends could be effected. Thirteen months in, work began on a pair of mines (one for iron and another for coal). This meant establishing the mines themselves, as well as billets for miners, roads to mines, railways to mines* and storage yards. This was followed by a basic blast furnace for basic smelting. Already about 1,600 ven of pig iron had been sent back to Valnothron and 400 more had been traded with Novo Oestia for wheat and Ilhong for Rice and some more manpower, though that was a drop in the bucket of the mission's cost.
All the while there was the ever present risk of attack by the Eternal Foe. They had arms and armour and several shore batteries, but even so there still only 800 soldiers. Even though this was about as far off the beaten path as you could get, a few Arrowships to snuff them out. There was also a scare when a Coldlander fleet was seen sailing East. Even thought it did not come anywhere near and the treaty was still in effect, it was enough to put people on edge. This was leaving aside the possibilities of a renegade pirate fleet from the North or Oestian Treachery which were less likely but still quite possible.
But despite all of that he remained committed to this project. Both out of loyalty to the family and what it could mean for his state and himself. And after a lot of work, it had begun to come together.
Two days ago a pair of ships had arrived with carried some anticipated passengers. Master Tyrjhen ti'Donzul of the Valnothron Runesmith's Guild, along with two journeymen and four apprentices. The Guild was one of the most powerful institutions in Valnothron with a permanent seat on the Council, vast wealth, a lot of inluence, several companies of formidable warriors and their own agenda. For all that, they were a fundamental part of the venture. After a day of rest, he showed them their new workshops and that evening he took Tyrjhen out to see a key development.
Five miles from the main settlement on a patch of hilly ground there was a small base. Most of it was unremarkable: a pair of watch-towers, slave barracks, drow quarters, field kitchen, well, pen, a couple of sheds, an makeshift warehouse, a couple of miscellaneous buildings and a fence surrounding the whole affair. All of which existed to support a strange contrivance which sat the complex's southeastern corner.
"So, this is the Vyankaill*." Tyrjhen ti'Yilijath said after she dismounted.
It sat on a specially made iron carriage mounted on a secure pivot, similar to those used by the latest naval cannons. The whole affair could be rotated by means of a wheel running along a rail and a two man crank and the array itself could be oriented by means of another set of cranks. It was incredibly slow, but precision was far more important. The array itself was counterbalanced by a set of concrete weights behind it and mostly consisted of a large dish of finely polished mirrors on an iron frame. All of which directed light into a metal cylinder. A number of slaves worked around it as dusk began to fall.
"A Vyankaill, we set up three smaller arrays over the last two years for tests, training and to work out issues." Reival said. "This one is made for practical production. It can track the sun to gather light and focus it into the collector."
"Must take a fair bit of work to keep it clean."
Reival grinned "I would hand it to Mistress Izlien."
"A full polishing is done every night past sundown." The site's supervisor said. "If there's a storm, we secure the array and cover it up with a tarp. My teams can have it done within four minutes. We're tapping the furnace for the night, would you like to see?"
"Indeed."
"Crew! Prepare for tapping!" A wheeled staircase was manhandled over the rocky terrain and a slave soon walked up carrying a large crucible. Very carefully he put the crucible, into position, pulled to open the furnace, filled it up with molten iron and sealed it up again. When that was done, he took the resulting metal down and poured it out onto into a depression in a box full of casting sand. He repeated the task four times, leaving six ingots.
"Four carriers would be quicker." Thyrjhen said as the fifth ingot was poured.
"They'd also jostle against each other going up and down the staircase. One hand can do the job quickly enough and doing so prevents spillage and unnecessary injuries. A device is in the works for winching up a crucible and pouring remotely."
"Indeed." She did not sound impressed. Reival had seen the mentality before: the way you got something done was with slaves, if you want it done faster use more slaves. Runesmiths were as a rule insular and self-important concerned about the Guild, their craft, the market for their goods and the proper training of apprentices and inductees. Technical solutions beyond their field were trivial matters. "Even so, i would like to inspect today's crop."
"Of course." Reival said as Thyrjhen approached the length of still molten liquid. She crouched down, extended her hand to near touch one of them and closer her eyes.
A couple seconds latter she opened her eyes and got to her feet. "Not perfect, but still more than adequate for most of our purposes and consistent with the samples you've provided. This device can make sixty vaul of infused iron at a time?"
"Yes, every four days. Over the last two months we've produced twelve loads. Within two months we will set up another one that should be able to handle seventy at a time."
Thyrjhen stood "Lord Reival, when she proposed it your mother's plan sounded like pure madness. Upon seeing your little outpost, I can say that it remains absurd to travel half way around the world to a godsforsaken desert to build massive iron teacups. As such you should be grateful we live in absurd times and I can not deny the effectiveness of your plan. You have upheld your end of our deal and we shall work on ours, we will have our metal and you shall have your flasks."
"It is an honour to accept your services." In truth, it was more of a relief. The long-term objective required Guild cooperation since they had a vast pool of skilled runesmiths authority over the manufacture and sale of any Runic item. Even slave Runesmiths needed to be registered with the guild who got a cut of the sales of any goods they produced. Strictly speaking there was still a contract in order, but an uncooperative master would be a major pain at least. It took a fair bit of discrete strategic bribery to get the Guild on House Valcas' side even though they stood to profit by it. Runesmithing required iron infused with magic and getting it in was a tricky business. Providing the Guild with a steady supply of infused ingots would raise their output and profits considerably, but that was just the beginning once the other function of these solar collectors was in full swing.
Managing Velnariath was a demanding job, he did it because he knew it could be a key driving force of Valnothron's economy and the edge needed to finally achieve ultimate victory.
*At the time, ox powered. A small locomotive was being built for the operation, but it would not arrive for another four months.
**Mirror Blossom
(Urblaast/Loriv construction zone, autumn 45 IA)
There had never been a lot of Dwarves in the Coldlands. A few outcasts had been forced to carve out a chilly life for themselves and a few clans that established Holds in flanking mountain ranges. Even so between the climate, low levels of background magic too low for their agriculture and raids by warlords interested in high value slaves there were only about 18,000 Dwarfs in what would become Infrastructure during the Wars of Unification. The Committee brought the six Coldland Dwarf-Holds into line by eliminating enemies and negotiation and in general they did well. They retained a decent degree of autonomy and gained security, improved trade opportunities and access to some impressive machinery. Even so, they were still fairly small components in the Great Machine.
Dhori Nolfrikson of Brundinkhor Hold had grown up with that change. He'd been 5 when the Infrastructural envoys arrived and he'd seen the changes first-hand. Demand for copper and defensive rune-stones were high so the clan made healthy profits and the population was growing. Despite that, there was still a resilient sense of insularity in Brundinkhor among the older generations which you could not really blame for having. The younger generations were a bit more open to the prospects that this new world could offer than three centuries in a modest hold in the Greytooth mountains.
As such after mulling it over, saving up and putting it off on his 33rd birthday he gathered up his pack and set out north. He'd thought he'd find work on the railways digging tunnels like his older sister Feltr did, or maybe in one of the new factories. To his surprise, the job he got was a construction job along the coast of the Urblaast/Loriv canal. Once there he was shifted from UL-109 to UL-077 to UL-121 and then to UL-152, but these projects were basically just sections of a greater whole, a massive fresh water and sewer system.
The basic procedure involved digging a long trench and setting down pipes. Smaller pipes were simply lowered in and fastened into place while larger main lines were built out of bricks. These were massive, a human could stand up straight in a finished pipe and they were by far the most time consuming to build. Even with multiple bricklayers working together setting up even a meter of main line was a long and involved process, leaving aside the building and rebuilding of scaffolding. Dhori could keep up a pace that most humans could not and found himself quite popular because of that. Each team of bricklayers had a length they were expected to do each shift and if that was exceeded they got a bonus. You could also earn more by doing overtime, and he usually got a couple extra hours in every day. He normally made about 20-24 credits a day, about 8 of which went back home to his parents.
In general, there was a lot of work being done here. The UL-144 had the largest workforce assigned to it, but there were dozens of other projects in the works in the area as well. There were tens of thousands of workers here, the vast majority of which were humans. You did see the occasional Dwarf here and there and he had shared a few pints with them at the pub but most of his circle of friends here were human. For someone who'd lived most of his life mostly underground in a mountain with the Clan for decades, it was a major change. In a month or so, things would slow down as winter set in and a good chunk of the workforce would go home until spring. Even so, Dhori was planning on staying on board. The pay was good, he found the work relaxing, he did not like to leave things unfinished and he found watching the great meta-project the Committee take shape to be fascinating.
(Valcas Estate, early winter, 45 IA)
In general the years after the Escort War for Jailys zi'Valcas had been busy. Long days and nights working on dozens of projects involving electrical expertise; from studying Coldlander equipment, working on prototypes, setting up new factories and workshops, electrification of the complex and translating documentation. Despite that, she pushed through partially; because she enjoyed her work and partially because of a prospect once distant and remote but increasingly within sight. In 43 IA a marriage was arranged between her and Fharien ti'Valcas, a distant descendant of one of Lady Talnara's uncles and a reasonable clerk. It came with a massive dowry which included the ownership of a home within the walls of the city, a few domestic slaves and the service of several body-guards. The next year she had a daughter, which was enough for the foundation of a new Minor House. Within her first century, she'd gone from an orphaned gutter rat to an indentured worker before emerging as Familiarch of House Zhonjath. She still owed fealty to House Valcas, but the rights and privileges of her new station were most definitely appreciated.
On a cold winter morning thirty five Drow youths filed into a makeshift lecture hall. They took to their seats and readied paper and quill in anticipation, before them was a curtain that was pulled back to reveal Jailys, well dressed and poised by her table. From a corner her assistant Beilaith announced "Students I present to your teacher for the day Mistress Jailys ti'Zhonjath*!" before slinking off. Jailys question the theatrics of it, but it was tradition and ultimately a minor issue.
She took in the crowd and smirked. "Interesting..." she said "...these are the ones that her esteemed Ladyship has sent me this year. I see some who's reports had shown considerable potential and had my recommendation and others...with another disposition. I don't know what criteria her Ladyship and her esteemed progeny make their selections, but I know they have their reasons." Mostly these were political. The majority of this lot were the sons and daughters of other Valcas vassals, along with a few wards and a couple of children of middling houses sworn to an major ally. "But regardless, the powers-that-be have instructed me and my department to instruct you in the mysteries of this."
In a quick motion she scooped up an electric light and flipped it on. She did not have the carefully constructed poise of the highborn and some of her students did find her efforts to be quaint, but the point was made.
"The marvels of Electricity. You've seen the new lights, experienced a few novel contrivances and maybe have even heard a radio. But make no mistake, this is but a sampling of what can be done with electrical power. Greater marvel are being drafted, built and tested in our workshops as we speak and marvels greater still lie in the future. A bright future that will be shaped by your will, if you pay attention to both your lessons and to what you're doing. Last year there were thirteen electrical fatalities, four of them Dark Elves. It's like a fire spell, if you don't handle it right it can easily burn. Electric machinery may be key to defeating The Eternal Foe, but to do that House Valcas and Valnothron need skilled masters of the electric arts. We don't need the charred remains of damn fools who fry themselves on live wires stinking up up the workshop." That got a nervous laugh. "So I implore you to be attentive in your studies in the wonderful world of the Electric."
"To begin with, we'll start with the most simple of electric mechanism: the Circuit." With that, she ran through the basic principles, using a few props for demonstration and explaining concepts such as conductivity and resistance along the way. In general the class paid attention and most were enthusiastic, though she noticed that there were a few resentful. Most likely those who fancied themselves warriors upset that they had to learn a useful trade, even when the Navy had an increasing demand for electricians as much as industry.
For the most part, these lectures were handled by Beiliath and a few other trusted subordinates. Even so, she liked to carry out the first one herself. It would be another four years at least before this lot was up to snuff and another three years of apprenticeship after that until they'd be fit to operate on their own. This was leaving aside those which needed to be up to date on the theoretical side which also involved Coldlander language lessons. More still for some of the more specialized fields that were cropping up. Even with another 120 or so ahead of them in the primary electrical training and there were still a chronic shortage of skilled masters of electricity. Despite the suggestions of some, there was no general way to accelerate the training process without reducing quality. They could just expand the intake of new students to hopefully keep up with future demand.
In classrooms like this and in workshops, manufactories, shipyards, warships and mines a new class of Dark Elves was rising. One which would shake their society as much as the machines they tended. A fact that Jailys might have seen coming if she was not constantly swamped with work.
*Drow naming conventions stipulate that a ward or a houseless individual vassal sworn to an establish House adopt the last name of the house with the "zi" prefix (which means "associated with") instead of the "ti" (which means "a part of"), prefix used by full members of the House either by Birth, Marriage or Adoption.
(Urblaast/Loriv Construction Zone, late winter 46 IA)
Every day in Dormitory 27 at 6:00, there was a wake up call. The lights were turned on and a bell was wrung. With that a hundred people were stirred into activity. Over the next few minutes they got to their feet, some making their beds as they went. Once that was done they filed their way to the changing rooms where they could wash up, brush their teeth, relieve themselves and get dressed for the day. This was normally done within half an hour at most. With that done most went off to the nearest canteen for breakfast and then to their various construction projects. Even on days off, people rarely lingered in the dorms while they were awake. The long two storey structure was designed to provide workers with a reasonably warm place to sleep and ready yourself for the next day, not to live. The fact that a hot-bunking situation was often in effect sealed the deal. Even so, the Dorms were still better than the informal warrens made of whatever could be scavenged up that some people (mostly the hangers on not directly employed by the Ministry of Construction) had been forced to make do with.
Lavra Lymirelko awoke with the rest of them but was among the last to get up. Two days ago there had been an accident at site UL-144 involving a fire at one the worksheds that spread to a storage pile and caused a steam engine to burst it's boiler. Thankfully nobody died, though eight people were injured and numerous machine tools and construction materials were lost. She was of course worried about the accident and felt for those those affected by it and it was no small relief to hear that Gordy and a few others were unhurt. But for her, that meant paperwork. Lots of reports which needed to filed to document the event, requests needed to be drafted and sent out for replacement equipment and materials, clean-up efforts to mobilize on top of the usual request forms which the construction sites ran on, all of which needed to be typed out for the Engineers and Bureaucrats. She could do sixty words a minute and she had to put in an extra three hours of work to get most of it done. She was exhausted at the end of it when she crashed in her bunk and even with a good night's sleep she was left beat.
Groggily she peeled herself from her sheets, got her glasses from the nightstand and with a well practised hand taking orders from a brain that had yet to build up steam put them on. She groaned in frustration as she got to her feet and shuffled forward to the stairway. She'd have to get her mess of a mop into order and she would not have much time for breakfast even though she badly needed a hot cup of tea. Spring was just beginning to stir, which on the one hand meant that she would not have to bundle up super tightly, but it also meant that things would be wet and muddy.
As she made her way to the daily grind she considered what she was working for. She was making a better wage than in Dalatyr and her savings account was filling up, even so there was not much to spend it on here. Nor did she have much space for anything she bought. The Ministry of Construction was not charging her for her bunk and the canteen's grub was cheap and adequate. She did send some of her wages back to her parents and there were a few places to find diversion around here on your days off. In general this was a good thing, even if the fact that the fruits of her labour largely lay in the future was frustrating.
(Urblaast/Loriv Construction Zone, Spring 46 IA)
A slab of concrete, 3 meters tall, 2 meters wide and for the most part 20cm thick with a large square hole a meter tall and 120cm wide rose into the air. Lifted up from a stack of such slabs by a large motorized crane, it was moved through the air purposefully as it's carrier moved along a set of rails and rotated gently. Nobody wanted it out of control and either slamming into something or to come crashing down, especially not onto some worker. This was especially true as it was brought to it's destination, as the Crane's operator communicated with workers three storeys up on what was currently the roof of a rough building. This was particularly the case in the last couple of meters as it was carefully lowered down while two workers guided it down to rest right on the rim. Among them was Ghrody Tsimil.
"Alright, looking good here Kilrova." He said to the young woman who was behind the panel, holding it by the window. He on the other hand was straddling the rim trying not to fall over. He had a safety line tied to his belt, but not actually falling over the side was always the best option.
"Looking good, just gotta pull her in a bit more, mind your feet." Kilrova replied.
"Of course". Ghrody replied. With a few quick shoves and pulls they got the panel right where it needed to be as it landed a smear of mortar and was braced up against another panel. "Looks Good."
"Still got a few hundred to go." Kilrova replied.
"Yeah yeah. Let's get this one secured". They went off to put in a couple fasteners to hold it in place as the mortar set. After that, they disconnected the chains and signalled the crane operator to repeat the process.
Ghordy had been working here at site UL-178 for nine days now. The Ministry of Construction frequently moved resources and people on and around UL-144. Various projects and stages in construction frequently concluded, new ones were starting up, more people were coming in and workers who'd received training (either formal or on-the-job) or were simply experienced were often in demand. Spring saw the beginning of several new projects as the weather made things generally easier. After the completion of floorboard installation on one of the huge complex's offices, Ghrody was not surprised and he and his general crew were sent off here. It was a bit out of the way, but walking a few clicks to his dorm and back was at worst a mild annoyance.
What did surprise him was the strange way the building was built. Lorries, steam tractors, cargo trams and ox drawn wagons brought in a constant supply of the concrete panels from either a storage yard or direct from ULBSF-2. Each one was a wall or a floor which just needed to be set into place with mortar and there you go, you got a wall, or a floor or a supporting pillar. The same went with stairs, which were also made in large number fully formed before being dropped in. Even on UL-144, you had to build a framework and then floors and walls from basic materials rather than making everything out a few types of subtly different but large segments to assemble the structure. Apparently this sort of thing was called "Prefabrication" and he had to admit that if nothing else it was fast. When he'd arrived, this was just a hole with some cranes. Now more than half the work was done, even though there was a lot of stuff being done downstairs, installing everything from windows and flooring to electrical systems and toilets.
For about a year now, Ghordy had been on this site and in that time he had slept in tents, half-finished structures, makeshift shacks, a dugout and a cramped wooden dormitory. A few dozen old passenger railcars had been brought in to serve as barracks, and they were considered to be an improvement by those who dwelt in the shanty-camps. Back on the farm he'd shared a room with three brothers, but even so the living arrangements left a lot to be desired at the best of times. It came as a relief that UL-178 was to provide housing to people, especially given how bit it was. When it was completed it would be more than 70 meters long and have more than 80 flats in it. At the same time there were another three buildings like it going up next door, four more were going up across the road and more foundations were being dug. The shanty-towns and Dormitory camps had served their purpose and soon will be a thing of the past. That fact in of itself was good enough to keep him in high spirits.
(Urblaast Loriv Construction Zone, spring 46 IA)
Engineer Vitali Dorsunov walked up a stairwell and down a hallway as bemused thoughts went through his mind. These days he went to the factory in his work uniform, a hard wearing robust functional garment designed for someone who got their hands dirty with soot and motor oil, and he spent most of his time talking to people, reading reports or typing up paperwork. Today he was in his dress uniform hauling boxes and chairs from a wagon. Admittedly he left the heavier loads such as the bed, table and his desk to some porters he'd hired, but there was still a lot number of more sensitive items he preferred to bring up himself. The notion ran it's course as he got to the west end of the hallway and opened the door into his new abode.
As soon as the door began to open, his eldest daughter Yeva darted out and soon ran to him. He grinned. "Woah there kid!"
"Dad! This place is amazing! It's Ginormous and there's two toilets, this huge bathtub, windows as tall as me, fancy walls, closet doors that slide," she reached over and demonstrated this "air tunnels, fancy floors, these hot metal things..." she was going full tilt as an impetuous seven year old could.
"...Well I know something it did not have...." he said as he cut her off "Aki! Grrrr!" He picked out a plush Akula from the box and loosed the stuffed sea creature on her without mercy. She burst out giggling with delight. A few seconds latter she collected Aki along with a few other things from the box.
"Now you can play for now, but you have to do it in your bedroom. Have you chosen one yet?"
"Yes I did!" She soon ran down the hall and pointed a door out. In their previous dwelling they all shared a bedroom that made up basically the entire upper storey.
"Does mom know this?"
"Yeah I told her." There was a pause from Yeva. "And thank you for making this place."
"You're welcome. But even so, I just keep the machines working at the factory and made sure the panels were properly made. There's a whole lot of people who put this place together."
"Yes dad. We're all part of the Great Machine and we can do together what none of us can do on our own. You still made it, even if others helped you."
"Well then you should thank the workers building more of these buildings." Anthropomorphism was a trait of humanity and it could badly skew how they viewed the world. When people saw something and wonder how it came to be, they preferred to imagine a human face as it's creator and ignore the hundreds or thousands of people who worked to bring it about. He loved his daughters dearly, but a little gentle correction needed. "Some of them are living in this building".
"Oh I will." She said slightly indignantly.
"And tell Raya that I have Miss Hatofski is here and the rest of the toys will be up here soon." He turned away to go down stairs for the other box.
Given his position as head Engineer at ULBSF-2, Vitali was at the front of the line for a housing upgrade. As soon as the first prefab apartment buildings was completed he was assigned one of the double-sized three bedroom family flats. A much needed upgrade from the basic house they'd called home for the last few years, not that their old residence would go to waste. From what he heard the shack had already been reallocated. Lila was a bit uncertain about the place in general terms, but she changed her mind quickly enough once she'd taken a quick tour. It was further away from the factory, but a few steam buses had been set up and a trolley route was planned.
Despite the decor, the empty set of rooms felt oddly sterile. It would take some time to make this assemblage of prefab panels a home. Even so with heating, plumbing, a new gas stove, plenty of electrical outlets, ventilation and other conveniences it offered along with the view of other such buildings going up around it, it definitely felt more civilized.
(Urblaast Loriv Construction Zone, Late Spring 46 IA)
At 5:50 on a warm morning in late spring Liv Nereskovo casually drove her streetcar on it's route through the Urblaast/Loriv Construction Zone. There was not a lot of traffic yet nor a huge amount of passengers at most of her stops. There were a few early risers such as canteen workers and some graveyard shift personnel at UL-144 and a few more of the big projects going home and in about half an hour there would be the surge of day-shift workers but for now things were fairly easy going. As she considered this, she was surprised at how quickly she'd settled into her routine. She'd been transferred from Dalatyr Transit and arrived here three weeks ago as the first passenger streetcars were finished* and did a few practice runs before services officially began a week latter.
She knew that a lot of people were working here in general of course; there were news articles, posters, recruitment and a fair number of people from Dalatyr which were either hired or transferred here. Even so, she'd been amazed at what had been done. It was amazing to think that a couple years ago this place was mostly empty fields. UL-144 was a massive complex, but in truth she was more impressed by the new blocks of flats. In a fortnight she'd seen just how fast these structures could be built as panels were put into place, with partially completed structures getting finished and buildings rising from basements with remarkable speed as cranes just carried walls into place. One morning you went to a station to deliver workers to their construction sites and the next evening you were were unloading them to their new billets. They were mostly used as dorms at the moment and the gods knew that they needed it. Even so, that was a temporary measure. Other buildings were also being put up around them and the foundations for more buildings still were being dug by dozens of steam shovels, lorries and battalions of workers with shovels. Like many people she ended up musing about this place and it's constant buzz of activity by armies of men and women. UL-144 was a factory and factories made things, but as big as imposing as it was it was only part of a greater whole. She wondered what it would be like when it was done, she'd find out sooner than she'd expected
*Cargo Streetcars on the network had seen some use before her arrival for testing and to aide construction.
(UL-144, Summer 46 IA)
On an average day in the summer of 46 IA, UL-144 had about 5 to 7,000 people directly working on it. This was a slight decrease from what it had been a few months previously, though more of the work became more technical. Several of the primary structures were completed and now they were being outfitted with it's equipment. In particular the number of Engineers on site rose to from 25 to 37 with nearly twice as many Apprentices*. At their head was Engineer Administrator Natasha Smedth, one of the most senior and prominent figures in the Corps and well respected by her peers. Even if she spent far more time in meetings and dealing with her subordinates, the Bureaucrats and Foremen, visits from Committee Members and a vast swath of paperwork than she cared for: for that reason she relished each opportunity to get down on the floor.
On a warm morning before things got to hot, she threw on her hardhat and a clipboard and went down to inspect some of the completed work in her morning briefing. On that list was a set of eight new lathes that had been set up. She looked them over and took some notes as her aide gave her some commentary on their features. These were high end devices, complete with their own electric motors and made to remarkable tolerances. She turned one on for a bit to see it go and was impressed by the speed. At her feet were a few steel shavings and she was given a small object which had been made on one of these lathes as a test item. She returned it with a smile.
"Very good" she said as she jotted down a final note "and now back to the grind."
Considering what she had to work with in the twenties, she was definitely jealous of the new generation. The same went for the pantograph milling machines, the new Drill presses and a dozen other upgraded mechanisms that had been installed, were being installed, in storage or were coming. This was leaving aside some of the huge specialized mechanisms under construction. Part of the reason why she'd been assigned to UL-144 was her experience in it's ultimate function and you could do a remarkable amount of work with just good lathe. But even so, this set of eight lathes would be just minor tributaries to the river this monster factory would become.
*Trainee Engineers which have graduated from the Academy and spend a year or two working under the supervision of a Senior Engineer for field experience before being fully inducted into the Engineering Corps.
(Tabula Rasa probationary settlement, Infrastructure, summer, 46 IA)
A blade moved swiftly, peeling off skin, cleaving it's target and staining all around it crimson. Talsi ti'Xolcas watched Neljiith ti'Vhireht as he cleaned and chopped up a beet for today's borscht. He took note of every move of the knife, the position of his hands and all the other little details. When he felt he was done he turned his head to her.
"By the gods, watch your hands. I don't need your fingers in my soup. And eighths are still too big."
He looked crestfallen. "I was going to chop them up fine once i'd I had a few beets peeled and sectioned. That's what you do."
She let out a sigh. "I'd cut them in half initially. Big difference. Still, you are liable to cut yourself up. Let me show you..." And so she showed him a few tricks on how to keep one's digits safe while dicing a beet, which would also be useful for tomatoes, onions, various vegetables and even meat.
Neljiith had arrived in Tabula Rasa about a year ago, part of a regular batch of new releases from the camps, and soon found work at Talsi's cafe. He could chop firewood, wash dishes, clean the tables, mop the floor and all the other little tasks that let Talsi focus on cooking, taking orders and making change. Even though she paid him ten credits a day her revenue increased by more than twice that and sometimes she collapsed in bed not completely exhausted.
Now she had plans and the first step in this was taking on another employee. She could use some more hands in the kitchen as the sooner diners were served the happier they were and the sooner they'd be on their way, making room for fresh diners to fill their seats. In that regard, she saw teaching Neljiith how to do some basic jobs for a couple extra credits and hiring another new release as the easiest path.
So far, it had been hard going. He'd never learned how to do any meaningful cooking beyond dressing rabbits. With a fair bit of criticism he'd proved that he could dice carrots and peel potatoes, now they were moving onto beets. He kept making a bunch of small mistakes that end up wasting time or getting his fingers nicked. It was a frustrating experience, especially since she knew that it was frustrating for Neljiith as well. Especially since she knew that her skills at teaching left something to be desired. Being raised in a society in which the grunt work was done by slaves leaves an impact in a lot of different ways, especially in management style. Often she found herself realizing that she talked to Neljiith too harshly and aggressively for trivial faults.
"Now" she said, calming down "can you try again?" Neljiith got another beet, peeled it and cut it in half neatly and safely, if still a bit slow. "Better, but you can do better still." And so they continued until the diced beet bowl was full and remained, to every-one's relief, finger free.
(Petrolium Colony, autumn 46 IA)
A bale was set atop four other bales on top of a net on a dock in Petroligrad, the main settlement of Petroleum Colony. The mass of soft off-white material was surprisingly heavy, requiring four stevedores with harnesses to manhandle the soft mass atop another. Once that was done three of them walked away while Jacek Torinsweis was left behind. With the economy of motion of a well practised hand, he secured the clinch ropes of a cargo net to the latches of a ship's crane, giving each a quick test tug. It was a simple task that he could do on autopilot and in general easier than hauling the massive loads. With that done, he looked up and gave a thumbs up.
"Secure!" He said, giving a thumbs up to the crew onboard the ship
"Secure!" Deckhands onboard the ship replied as they moved to receive.
"Aye!" The crane operated replied. A couple seconds latter the winch was turned on, the lines rose and the mass went up with them and the payload soon disappeared over the hull of the ship. As that happened Jacek set down a fresh net on the X painted for that purpose before going back to collect another bale of rubber.
This was the thirtieth bale he'd moved this shift, with four other teams moving another hundred and twenty and there were plenty more on the docks and in the warehouses. Another ten had been loaded one at a time with a gangplank, push-cart and a winch. It was hard work and it had only been a few hours. This was leaving aside the heat. The days were getting long and sweltering and they still had an hour to go before lunch and a two hour siesta. Even so, they still had a lot of work to do. There was a 25 Credit bonus to getting this ship filled by Friday.
In the last few years, Petrolgrad's port had grown considerably. More ships were coming in, delivering more colonists and equipment and collecting more product. Petroleum remained the biggest export though tea and cotton were both coming into their own and latex was exploding. There were a few Infrastructural Orchards that were producing and more that were still growing from saplings, but still the bulk of the latex was imported from the tribes up north. He got the need for tea and cotton, after all a nice iced tea was a refreshing treat and comfortable light clothing were both welcome in his book though the massive demand for rubber was more obscure to him. It would not be the first time he wondered about such things, nor the last before he found out. Even so, he had a job to do.
Exhaustion, Frustration, Boredom and low key Dread. Those had been Reival ti'Valcas' primary emotions over the last five years.
As governor of Velnariath, he had a lot to do and little to do it with. Initially he had two hundred and ten Drow and five hundred slaves. Most of the former were drawn from the Discarded and half of the latter were Disposables. There was also the Khylhon in the first year, but she and her crew only provided minor aid early on and mostly loitered about in case of attack. Additional supplies and a couple hundred more settlers and slaves would be dropped off about twice a year. But even so this operation was still little more than a dingy village. There was a couple make-shift taverns, the occasional hunt and some improvised bands, poetry contests and sparing matches, but there was still little diversion in this sweltering land. His wife Kyrial had made that clear.
Not that setting it up was in any sense easy. The first goal on arrival was establishing shelter, storehouses, a dock, pens for animals, wells, defensive fortifications, collecting rock samples, setting up wards and coaxing what crops they could out of the dry soil. He did more shovelling in the first year than he'd ever expected to do in his life on top of the paperwork and meetings. Work on such things would continue with new arrivals, but once the basics of survival had been achieved other ends could be effected. Thirteen months in, work began on a pair of mines (one for iron and another for coal). This meant establishing the mines themselves, as well as billets for miners, roads to mines, railways to mines* and storage yards. This was followed by a basic blast furnace for basic smelting. Already about 1,600 ven of pig iron had been sent back to Valnothron and 400 more had been traded with Novo Oestia for wheat and Ilhong for Rice and some more manpower, though that was a drop in the bucket of the mission's cost.
All the while there was the ever present risk of attack by the Eternal Foe. They had arms and armour and several shore batteries, but even so there still only 800 soldiers. Even though this was about as far off the beaten path as you could get, a few Arrowships to snuff them out. There was also a scare when a Coldlander fleet was seen sailing East. Even thought it did not come anywhere near and the treaty was still in effect, it was enough to put people on edge. This was leaving aside the possibilities of a renegade pirate fleet from the North or Oestian Treachery which were less likely but still quite possible.
But despite all of that he remained committed to this project. Both out of loyalty to the family and what it could mean for his state and himself. And after a lot of work, it had begun to come together.
Two days ago a pair of ships had arrived with carried some anticipated passengers. Master Tyrjhen ti'Donzul of the Valnothron Runesmith's Guild, along with two journeymen and four apprentices. The Guild was one of the most powerful institutions in Valnothron with a permanent seat on the Council, vast wealth, a lot of inluence, several companies of formidable warriors and their own agenda. For all that, they were a fundamental part of the venture. After a day of rest, he showed them their new workshops and that evening he took Tyrjhen out to see a key development.
Five miles from the main settlement on a patch of hilly ground there was a small base. Most of it was unremarkable: a pair of watch-towers, slave barracks, drow quarters, field kitchen, well, pen, a couple of sheds, an makeshift warehouse, a couple of miscellaneous buildings and a fence surrounding the whole affair. All of which existed to support a strange contrivance which sat the complex's southeastern corner.
"So, this is the Vyankaill*." Tyrjhen ti'Yilijath said after she dismounted.
It sat on a specially made iron carriage mounted on a secure pivot, similar to those used by the latest naval cannons. The whole affair could be rotated by means of a wheel running along a rail and a two man crank and the array itself could be oriented by means of another set of cranks. It was incredibly slow, but precision was far more important. The array itself was counterbalanced by a set of concrete weights behind it and mostly consisted of a large dish of finely polished mirrors on an iron frame. All of which directed light into a metal cylinder. A number of slaves worked around it as dusk began to fall.
"A Vyankaill, we set up three smaller arrays over the last two years for tests, training and to work out issues." Reival said. "This one is made for practical production. It can track the sun to gather light and focus it into the collector."
"Must take a fair bit of work to keep it clean."
Reival grinned "I would hand it to Mistress Izlien."
"A full polishing is done every night past sundown." The site's supervisor said. "If there's a storm, we secure the array and cover it up with a tarp. My teams can have it done within four minutes. We're tapping the furnace for the night, would you like to see?"
"Indeed."
"Crew! Prepare for tapping!" A wheeled staircase was manhandled over the rocky terrain and a slave soon walked up carrying a large crucible. Very carefully he put the crucible, into position, pulled to open the furnace, filled it up with molten iron and sealed it up again. When that was done, he took the resulting metal down and poured it out onto into a depression in a box full of casting sand. He repeated the task four times, leaving six ingots.
"Four carriers would be quicker." Thyrjhen said as the fifth ingot was poured.
"They'd also jostle against each other going up and down the staircase. One hand can do the job quickly enough and doing so prevents spillage and unnecessary injuries. A device is in the works for winching up a crucible and pouring remotely."
"Indeed." She did not sound impressed. Reival had seen the mentality before: the way you got something done was with slaves, if you want it done faster use more slaves. Runesmiths were as a rule insular and self-important concerned about the Guild, their craft, the market for their goods and the proper training of apprentices and inductees. Technical solutions beyond their field were trivial matters. "Even so, i would like to inspect today's crop."
"Of course." Reival said as Thyrjhen approached the length of still molten liquid. She crouched down, extended her hand to near touch one of them and closer her eyes.
A couple seconds latter she opened her eyes and got to her feet. "Not perfect, but still more than adequate for most of our purposes and consistent with the samples you've provided. This device can make sixty vaul of infused iron at a time?"
"Yes, every four days. Over the last two months we've produced twelve loads. Within two months we will set up another one that should be able to handle seventy at a time."
Thyrjhen stood "Lord Reival, when she proposed it your mother's plan sounded like pure madness. Upon seeing your little outpost, I can say that it remains absurd to travel half way around the world to a godsforsaken desert to build massive iron teacups. As such you should be grateful we live in absurd times and I can not deny the effectiveness of your plan. You have upheld your end of our deal and we shall work on ours, we will have our metal and you shall have your flasks."
"It is an honour to accept your services." In truth, it was more of a relief. The long-term objective required Guild cooperation since they had a vast pool of skilled runesmiths authority over the manufacture and sale of any Runic item. Even slave Runesmiths needed to be registered with the guild who got a cut of the sales of any goods they produced. Strictly speaking there was still a contract in order, but an uncooperative master would be a major pain at least. It took a fair bit of discrete strategic bribery to get the Guild on House Valcas' side even though they stood to profit by it. Runesmithing required iron infused with magic and getting it in was a tricky business. Providing the Guild with a steady supply of infused ingots would raise their output and profits considerably, but that was just the beginning once the other function of these solar collectors was in full swing.
Managing Velnariath was a demanding job, he did it because he knew it could be a key driving force of Valnothron's economy and the edge needed to finally achieve ultimate victory.
*At the time, ox powered. A small locomotive was being built for the operation, but it would not arrive for another four months.
**Mirror Blossom
There had never been a lot of Dwarves in the Coldlands. A few outcasts had been forced to carve out a chilly life for themselves and a few clans that established Holds in flanking mountain ranges. Even so between the climate, low levels of background magic too low for their agriculture and raids by warlords interested in high value slaves there were only about 18,000 Dwarfs in what would become Infrastructure during the Wars of Unification. The Committee brought the six Coldland Dwarf-Holds into line by eliminating enemies and negotiation and in general they did well. They retained a decent degree of autonomy and gained security, improved trade opportunities and access to some impressive machinery. Even so, they were still fairly small components in the Great Machine.
Dhori Nolfrikson of Brundinkhor Hold had grown up with that change. He'd been 5 when the Infrastructural envoys arrived and he'd seen the changes first-hand. Demand for copper and defensive rune-stones were high so the clan made healthy profits and the population was growing. Despite that, there was still a resilient sense of insularity in Brundinkhor among the older generations which you could not really blame for having. The younger generations were a bit more open to the prospects that this new world could offer than three centuries in a modest hold in the Greytooth mountains.
As such after mulling it over, saving up and putting it off on his 33rd birthday he gathered up his pack and set out north. He'd thought he'd find work on the railways digging tunnels like his older sister Feltr did, or maybe in one of the new factories. To his surprise, the job he got was a construction job along the coast of the Urblaast/Loriv canal. Once there he was shifted from UL-109 to UL-077 to UL-121 and then to UL-152, but these projects were basically just sections of a greater whole, a massive fresh water and sewer system.
The basic procedure involved digging a long trench and setting down pipes. Smaller pipes were simply lowered in and fastened into place while larger main lines were built out of bricks. These were massive, a human could stand up straight in a finished pipe and they were by far the most time consuming to build. Even with multiple bricklayers working together setting up even a meter of main line was a long and involved process, leaving aside the building and rebuilding of scaffolding. Dhori could keep up a pace that most humans could not and found himself quite popular because of that. Each team of bricklayers had a length they were expected to do each shift and if that was exceeded they got a bonus. You could also earn more by doing overtime, and he usually got a couple extra hours in every day. He normally made about 20-24 credits a day, about 8 of which went back home to his parents.
In general, there was a lot of work being done here. The UL-144 had the largest workforce assigned to it, but there were dozens of other projects in the works in the area as well. There were tens of thousands of workers here, the vast majority of which were humans. You did see the occasional Dwarf here and there and he had shared a few pints with them at the pub but most of his circle of friends here were human. For someone who'd lived most of his life mostly underground in a mountain with the Clan for decades, it was a major change. In a month or so, things would slow down as winter set in and a good chunk of the workforce would go home until spring. Even so, Dhori was planning on staying on board. The pay was good, he found the work relaxing, he did not like to leave things unfinished and he found watching the great meta-project the Committee take shape to be fascinating.
(Valcas Estate, early winter, 45 IA)
In general the years after the Escort War for Jailys zi'Valcas had been busy. Long days and nights working on dozens of projects involving electrical expertise; from studying Coldlander equipment, working on prototypes, setting up new factories and workshops, electrification of the complex and translating documentation. Despite that, she pushed through partially; because she enjoyed her work and partially because of a prospect once distant and remote but increasingly within sight. In 43 IA a marriage was arranged between her and Fharien ti'Valcas, a distant descendant of one of Lady Talnara's uncles and a reasonable clerk. It came with a massive dowry which included the ownership of a home within the walls of the city, a few domestic slaves and the service of several body-guards. The next year she had a daughter, which was enough for the foundation of a new Minor House. Within her first century, she'd gone from an orphaned gutter rat to an indentured worker before emerging as Familiarch of House Zhonjath. She still owed fealty to House Valcas, but the rights and privileges of her new station were most definitely appreciated.
On a cold winter morning thirty five Drow youths filed into a makeshift lecture hall. They took to their seats and readied paper and quill in anticipation, before them was a curtain that was pulled back to reveal Jailys, well dressed and poised by her table. From a corner her assistant Beilaith announced "Students I present to your teacher for the day Mistress Jailys ti'Zhonjath*!" before slinking off. Jailys question the theatrics of it, but it was tradition and ultimately a minor issue.
She took in the crowd and smirked. "Interesting..." she said "...these are the ones that her esteemed Ladyship has sent me this year. I see some who's reports had shown considerable potential and had my recommendation and others...with another disposition. I don't know what criteria her Ladyship and her esteemed progeny make their selections, but I know they have their reasons." Mostly these were political. The majority of this lot were the sons and daughters of other Valcas vassals, along with a few wards and a couple of children of middling houses sworn to an major ally. "But regardless, the powers-that-be have instructed me and my department to instruct you in the mysteries of this."
In a quick motion she scooped up an electric light and flipped it on. She did not have the carefully constructed poise of the highborn and some of her students did find her efforts to be quaint, but the point was made.
"The marvels of Electricity. You've seen the new lights, experienced a few novel contrivances and maybe have even heard a radio. But make no mistake, this is but a sampling of what can be done with electrical power. Greater marvel are being drafted, built and tested in our workshops as we speak and marvels greater still lie in the future. A bright future that will be shaped by your will, if you pay attention to both your lessons and to what you're doing. Last year there were thirteen electrical fatalities, four of them Dark Elves. It's like a fire spell, if you don't handle it right it can easily burn. Electric machinery may be key to defeating The Eternal Foe, but to do that House Valcas and Valnothron need skilled masters of the electric arts. We don't need the charred remains of damn fools who fry themselves on live wires stinking up up the workshop." That got a nervous laugh. "So I implore you to be attentive in your studies in the wonderful world of the Electric."
"To begin with, we'll start with the most simple of electric mechanism: the Circuit." With that, she ran through the basic principles, using a few props for demonstration and explaining concepts such as conductivity and resistance along the way. In general the class paid attention and most were enthusiastic, though she noticed that there were a few resentful. Most likely those who fancied themselves warriors upset that they had to learn a useful trade, even when the Navy had an increasing demand for electricians as much as industry.
For the most part, these lectures were handled by Beiliath and a few other trusted subordinates. Even so, she liked to carry out the first one herself. It would be another four years at least before this lot was up to snuff and another three years of apprenticeship after that until they'd be fit to operate on their own. This was leaving aside those which needed to be up to date on the theoretical side which also involved Coldlander language lessons. More still for some of the more specialized fields that were cropping up. Even with another 120 or so ahead of them in the primary electrical training and there were still a chronic shortage of skilled masters of electricity. Despite the suggestions of some, there was no general way to accelerate the training process without reducing quality. They could just expand the intake of new students to hopefully keep up with future demand.
In classrooms like this and in workshops, manufactories, shipyards, warships and mines a new class of Dark Elves was rising. One which would shake their society as much as the machines they tended. A fact that Jailys might have seen coming if she was not constantly swamped with work.
*Drow naming conventions stipulate that a ward or a houseless individual vassal sworn to an establish House adopt the last name of the house with the "zi" prefix (which means "associated with") instead of the "ti" (which means "a part of"), prefix used by full members of the House either by Birth, Marriage or Adoption.
Every day in Dormitory 27 at 6:00, there was a wake up call. The lights were turned on and a bell was wrung. With that a hundred people were stirred into activity. Over the next few minutes they got to their feet, some making their beds as they went. Once that was done they filed their way to the changing rooms where they could wash up, brush their teeth, relieve themselves and get dressed for the day. This was normally done within half an hour at most. With that done most went off to the nearest canteen for breakfast and then to their various construction projects. Even on days off, people rarely lingered in the dorms while they were awake. The long two storey structure was designed to provide workers with a reasonably warm place to sleep and ready yourself for the next day, not to live. The fact that a hot-bunking situation was often in effect sealed the deal. Even so, the Dorms were still better than the informal warrens made of whatever could be scavenged up that some people (mostly the hangers on not directly employed by the Ministry of Construction) had been forced to make do with.
Lavra Lymirelko awoke with the rest of them but was among the last to get up. Two days ago there had been an accident at site UL-144 involving a fire at one the worksheds that spread to a storage pile and caused a steam engine to burst it's boiler. Thankfully nobody died, though eight people were injured and numerous machine tools and construction materials were lost. She was of course worried about the accident and felt for those those affected by it and it was no small relief to hear that Gordy and a few others were unhurt. But for her, that meant paperwork. Lots of reports which needed to filed to document the event, requests needed to be drafted and sent out for replacement equipment and materials, clean-up efforts to mobilize on top of the usual request forms which the construction sites ran on, all of which needed to be typed out for the Engineers and Bureaucrats. She could do sixty words a minute and she had to put in an extra three hours of work to get most of it done. She was exhausted at the end of it when she crashed in her bunk and even with a good night's sleep she was left beat.
Groggily she peeled herself from her sheets, got her glasses from the nightstand and with a well practised hand taking orders from a brain that had yet to build up steam put them on. She groaned in frustration as she got to her feet and shuffled forward to the stairway. She'd have to get her mess of a mop into order and she would not have much time for breakfast even though she badly needed a hot cup of tea. Spring was just beginning to stir, which on the one hand meant that she would not have to bundle up super tightly, but it also meant that things would be wet and muddy.
As she made her way to the daily grind she considered what she was working for. She was making a better wage than in Dalatyr and her savings account was filling up, even so there was not much to spend it on here. Nor did she have much space for anything she bought. The Ministry of Construction was not charging her for her bunk and the canteen's grub was cheap and adequate. She did send some of her wages back to her parents and there were a few places to find diversion around here on your days off. In general this was a good thing, even if the fact that the fruits of her labour largely lay in the future was frustrating.
(Urblaast/Loriv Construction Zone, Spring 46 IA)
A slab of concrete, 3 meters tall, 2 meters wide and for the most part 20cm thick with a large square hole a meter tall and 120cm wide rose into the air. Lifted up from a stack of such slabs by a large motorized crane, it was moved through the air purposefully as it's carrier moved along a set of rails and rotated gently. Nobody wanted it out of control and either slamming into something or to come crashing down, especially not onto some worker. This was especially true as it was brought to it's destination, as the Crane's operator communicated with workers three storeys up on what was currently the roof of a rough building. This was particularly the case in the last couple of meters as it was carefully lowered down while two workers guided it down to rest right on the rim. Among them was Ghrody Tsimil.
"Alright, looking good here Kilrova." He said to the young woman who was behind the panel, holding it by the window. He on the other hand was straddling the rim trying not to fall over. He had a safety line tied to his belt, but not actually falling over the side was always the best option.
"Looking good, just gotta pull her in a bit more, mind your feet." Kilrova replied.
"Of course". Ghrody replied. With a few quick shoves and pulls they got the panel right where it needed to be as it landed a smear of mortar and was braced up against another panel. "Looks Good."
"Still got a few hundred to go." Kilrova replied.
"Yeah yeah. Let's get this one secured". They went off to put in a couple fasteners to hold it in place as the mortar set. After that, they disconnected the chains and signalled the crane operator to repeat the process.
Ghordy had been working here at site UL-178 for nine days now. The Ministry of Construction frequently moved resources and people on and around UL-144. Various projects and stages in construction frequently concluded, new ones were starting up, more people were coming in and workers who'd received training (either formal or on-the-job) or were simply experienced were often in demand. Spring saw the beginning of several new projects as the weather made things generally easier. After the completion of floorboard installation on one of the huge complex's offices, Ghrody was not surprised and he and his general crew were sent off here. It was a bit out of the way, but walking a few clicks to his dorm and back was at worst a mild annoyance.
What did surprise him was the strange way the building was built. Lorries, steam tractors, cargo trams and ox drawn wagons brought in a constant supply of the concrete panels from either a storage yard or direct from ULBSF-2. Each one was a wall or a floor which just needed to be set into place with mortar and there you go, you got a wall, or a floor or a supporting pillar. The same went with stairs, which were also made in large number fully formed before being dropped in. Even on UL-144, you had to build a framework and then floors and walls from basic materials rather than making everything out a few types of subtly different but large segments to assemble the structure. Apparently this sort of thing was called "Prefabrication" and he had to admit that if nothing else it was fast. When he'd arrived, this was just a hole with some cranes. Now more than half the work was done, even though there was a lot of stuff being done downstairs, installing everything from windows and flooring to electrical systems and toilets.
For about a year now, Ghordy had been on this site and in that time he had slept in tents, half-finished structures, makeshift shacks, a dugout and a cramped wooden dormitory. A few dozen old passenger railcars had been brought in to serve as barracks, and they were considered to be an improvement by those who dwelt in the shanty-camps. Back on the farm he'd shared a room with three brothers, but even so the living arrangements left a lot to be desired at the best of times. It came as a relief that UL-178 was to provide housing to people, especially given how bit it was. When it was completed it would be more than 70 meters long and have more than 80 flats in it. At the same time there were another three buildings like it going up next door, four more were going up across the road and more foundations were being dug. The shanty-towns and Dormitory camps had served their purpose and soon will be a thing of the past. That fact in of itself was good enough to keep him in high spirits.
(Urblaast Loriv Construction Zone, spring 46 IA)
Engineer Vitali Dorsunov walked up a stairwell and down a hallway as bemused thoughts went through his mind. These days he went to the factory in his work uniform, a hard wearing robust functional garment designed for someone who got their hands dirty with soot and motor oil, and he spent most of his time talking to people, reading reports or typing up paperwork. Today he was in his dress uniform hauling boxes and chairs from a wagon. Admittedly he left the heavier loads such as the bed, table and his desk to some porters he'd hired, but there was still a lot number of more sensitive items he preferred to bring up himself. The notion ran it's course as he got to the west end of the hallway and opened the door into his new abode.
As soon as the door began to open, his eldest daughter Yeva darted out and soon ran to him. He grinned. "Woah there kid!"
"Dad! This place is amazing! It's Ginormous and there's two toilets, this huge bathtub, windows as tall as me, fancy walls, closet doors that slide," she reached over and demonstrated this "air tunnels, fancy floors, these hot metal things..." she was going full tilt as an impetuous seven year old could.
"...Well I know something it did not have...." he said as he cut her off "Aki! Grrrr!" He picked out a plush Akula from the box and loosed the stuffed sea creature on her without mercy. She burst out giggling with delight. A few seconds latter she collected Aki along with a few other things from the box.
"Now you can play for now, but you have to do it in your bedroom. Have you chosen one yet?"
"Yes I did!" She soon ran down the hall and pointed a door out. In their previous dwelling they all shared a bedroom that made up basically the entire upper storey.
"Does mom know this?"
"Yeah I told her." There was a pause from Yeva. "And thank you for making this place."
"You're welcome. But even so, I just keep the machines working at the factory and made sure the panels were properly made. There's a whole lot of people who put this place together."
"Yes dad. We're all part of the Great Machine and we can do together what none of us can do on our own. You still made it, even if others helped you."
"Well then you should thank the workers building more of these buildings." Anthropomorphism was a trait of humanity and it could badly skew how they viewed the world. When people saw something and wonder how it came to be, they preferred to imagine a human face as it's creator and ignore the hundreds or thousands of people who worked to bring it about. He loved his daughters dearly, but a little gentle correction needed. "Some of them are living in this building".
"Oh I will." She said slightly indignantly.
"And tell Raya that I have Miss Hatofski is here and the rest of the toys will be up here soon." He turned away to go down stairs for the other box.
Given his position as head Engineer at ULBSF-2, Vitali was at the front of the line for a housing upgrade. As soon as the first prefab apartment buildings was completed he was assigned one of the double-sized three bedroom family flats. A much needed upgrade from the basic house they'd called home for the last few years, not that their old residence would go to waste. From what he heard the shack had already been reallocated. Lila was a bit uncertain about the place in general terms, but she changed her mind quickly enough once she'd taken a quick tour. It was further away from the factory, but a few steam buses had been set up and a trolley route was planned.
Despite the decor, the empty set of rooms felt oddly sterile. It would take some time to make this assemblage of prefab panels a home. Even so with heating, plumbing, a new gas stove, plenty of electrical outlets, ventilation and other conveniences it offered along with the view of other such buildings going up around it, it definitely felt more civilized.
At 5:50 on a warm morning in late spring Liv Nereskovo casually drove her streetcar on it's route through the Urblaast/Loriv Construction Zone. There was not a lot of traffic yet nor a huge amount of passengers at most of her stops. There were a few early risers such as canteen workers and some graveyard shift personnel at UL-144 and a few more of the big projects going home and in about half an hour there would be the surge of day-shift workers but for now things were fairly easy going. As she considered this, she was surprised at how quickly she'd settled into her routine. She'd been transferred from Dalatyr Transit and arrived here three weeks ago as the first passenger streetcars were finished* and did a few practice runs before services officially began a week latter.
She knew that a lot of people were working here in general of course; there were news articles, posters, recruitment and a fair number of people from Dalatyr which were either hired or transferred here. Even so, she'd been amazed at what had been done. It was amazing to think that a couple years ago this place was mostly empty fields. UL-144 was a massive complex, but in truth she was more impressed by the new blocks of flats. In a fortnight she'd seen just how fast these structures could be built as panels were put into place, with partially completed structures getting finished and buildings rising from basements with remarkable speed as cranes just carried walls into place. One morning you went to a station to deliver workers to their construction sites and the next evening you were were unloading them to their new billets. They were mostly used as dorms at the moment and the gods knew that they needed it. Even so, that was a temporary measure. Other buildings were also being put up around them and the foundations for more buildings still were being dug by dozens of steam shovels, lorries and battalions of workers with shovels. Like many people she ended up musing about this place and it's constant buzz of activity by armies of men and women. UL-144 was a factory and factories made things, but as big as imposing as it was it was only part of a greater whole. She wondered what it would be like when it was done, she'd find out sooner than she'd expected
*Cargo Streetcars on the network had seen some use before her arrival for testing and to aide construction.
On an average day in the summer of 46 IA, UL-144 had about 5 to 7,000 people directly working on it. This was a slight decrease from what it had been a few months previously, though more of the work became more technical. Several of the primary structures were completed and now they were being outfitted with it's equipment. In particular the number of Engineers on site rose to from 25 to 37 with nearly twice as many Apprentices*. At their head was Engineer Administrator Natasha Smedth, one of the most senior and prominent figures in the Corps and well respected by her peers. Even if she spent far more time in meetings and dealing with her subordinates, the Bureaucrats and Foremen, visits from Committee Members and a vast swath of paperwork than she cared for: for that reason she relished each opportunity to get down on the floor.
On a warm morning before things got to hot, she threw on her hardhat and a clipboard and went down to inspect some of the completed work in her morning briefing. On that list was a set of eight new lathes that had been set up. She looked them over and took some notes as her aide gave her some commentary on their features. These were high end devices, complete with their own electric motors and made to remarkable tolerances. She turned one on for a bit to see it go and was impressed by the speed. At her feet were a few steel shavings and she was given a small object which had been made on one of these lathes as a test item. She returned it with a smile.
"Very good" she said as she jotted down a final note "and now back to the grind."
Considering what she had to work with in the twenties, she was definitely jealous of the new generation. The same went for the pantograph milling machines, the new Drill presses and a dozen other upgraded mechanisms that had been installed, were being installed, in storage or were coming. This was leaving aside some of the huge specialized mechanisms under construction. Part of the reason why she'd been assigned to UL-144 was her experience in it's ultimate function and you could do a remarkable amount of work with just good lathe. But even so, this set of eight lathes would be just minor tributaries to the river this monster factory would become.
*Trainee Engineers which have graduated from the Academy and spend a year or two working under the supervision of a Senior Engineer for field experience before being fully inducted into the Engineering Corps.
A blade moved swiftly, peeling off skin, cleaving it's target and staining all around it crimson. Talsi ti'Xolcas watched Neljiith ti'Vhireht as he cleaned and chopped up a beet for today's borscht. He took note of every move of the knife, the position of his hands and all the other little details. When he felt he was done he turned his head to her.
"By the gods, watch your hands. I don't need your fingers in my soup. And eighths are still too big."
He looked crestfallen. "I was going to chop them up fine once i'd I had a few beets peeled and sectioned. That's what you do."
She let out a sigh. "I'd cut them in half initially. Big difference. Still, you are liable to cut yourself up. Let me show you..." And so she showed him a few tricks on how to keep one's digits safe while dicing a beet, which would also be useful for tomatoes, onions, various vegetables and even meat.
Neljiith had arrived in Tabula Rasa about a year ago, part of a regular batch of new releases from the camps, and soon found work at Talsi's cafe. He could chop firewood, wash dishes, clean the tables, mop the floor and all the other little tasks that let Talsi focus on cooking, taking orders and making change. Even though she paid him ten credits a day her revenue increased by more than twice that and sometimes she collapsed in bed not completely exhausted.
Now she had plans and the first step in this was taking on another employee. She could use some more hands in the kitchen as the sooner diners were served the happier they were and the sooner they'd be on their way, making room for fresh diners to fill their seats. In that regard, she saw teaching Neljiith how to do some basic jobs for a couple extra credits and hiring another new release as the easiest path.
So far, it had been hard going. He'd never learned how to do any meaningful cooking beyond dressing rabbits. With a fair bit of criticism he'd proved that he could dice carrots and peel potatoes, now they were moving onto beets. He kept making a bunch of small mistakes that end up wasting time or getting his fingers nicked. It was a frustrating experience, especially since she knew that it was frustrating for Neljiith as well. Especially since she knew that her skills at teaching left something to be desired. Being raised in a society in which the grunt work was done by slaves leaves an impact in a lot of different ways, especially in management style. Often she found herself realizing that she talked to Neljiith too harshly and aggressively for trivial faults.
"Now" she said, calming down "can you try again?" Neljiith got another beet, peeled it and cut it in half neatly and safely, if still a bit slow. "Better, but you can do better still." And so they continued until the diced beet bowl was full and remained, to every-one's relief, finger free.
(Petrolium Colony, autumn 46 IA)
A bale was set atop four other bales on top of a net on a dock in Petroligrad, the main settlement of Petroleum Colony. The mass of soft off-white material was surprisingly heavy, requiring four stevedores with harnesses to manhandle the soft mass atop another. Once that was done three of them walked away while Jacek Torinsweis was left behind. With the economy of motion of a well practised hand, he secured the clinch ropes of a cargo net to the latches of a ship's crane, giving each a quick test tug. It was a simple task that he could do on autopilot and in general easier than hauling the massive loads. With that done, he looked up and gave a thumbs up.
"Secure!" He said, giving a thumbs up to the crew onboard the ship
"Secure!" Deckhands onboard the ship replied as they moved to receive.
"Aye!" The crane operated replied. A couple seconds latter the winch was turned on, the lines rose and the mass went up with them and the payload soon disappeared over the hull of the ship. As that happened Jacek set down a fresh net on the X painted for that purpose before going back to collect another bale of rubber.
This was the thirtieth bale he'd moved this shift, with four other teams moving another hundred and twenty and there were plenty more on the docks and in the warehouses. Another ten had been loaded one at a time with a gangplank, push-cart and a winch. It was hard work and it had only been a few hours. This was leaving aside the heat. The days were getting long and sweltering and they still had an hour to go before lunch and a two hour siesta. Even so, they still had a lot of work to do. There was a 25 Credit bonus to getting this ship filled by Friday.
In the last few years, Petrolgrad's port had grown considerably. More ships were coming in, delivering more colonists and equipment and collecting more product. Petroleum remained the biggest export though tea and cotton were both coming into their own and latex was exploding. There were a few Infrastructural Orchards that were producing and more that were still growing from saplings, but still the bulk of the latex was imported from the tribes up north. He got the need for tea and cotton, after all a nice iced tea was a refreshing treat and comfortable light clothing were both welcome in his book though the massive demand for rubber was more obscure to him. It would not be the first time he wondered about such things, nor the last before he found out. Even so, he had a job to do.
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- Location
- South Carolina
Whoa! New update in a long time! Can't wait to see more and how much progress is going to be made, gotta make sure we keep the edge over the other countries!
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It is amazing to see how Infrastructure is embodying the great machine. Sure the drow have individual and magical advantage... but the sprawling economy (and eventual wartime throughput) of Infrastructure must be incredible.
I am curious as to when they will really implement automated factories that rely less on manpower.
I am curious as to when they will really implement automated factories that rely less on manpower.
Infrastructure: CT-3 prefab housing
Zor
More of a Zor than You
Assembled from CT-3 precast concrete panels, such a structure of this size could be put together in as little as eighteen days once site-prep has been completed. Despite this, each individual flat and shop has full access to running water, electricity, gas for heating and stoves and fan aided ventilation. These factors represent a considerable degree of luxury even by Dalatyr Standards, despite the structure's utilitarian designs.
On average, during the spring, summer and autumn of 46 IA some 78 residential buildings of similar scale have been built in the Urblaast/Loriv Zone before dipping temperatures delayed further construction. Many of the the smaller units were used as construction workers' dormitories with four or more people being billeted in newly finished flats as construction continues. Larger units are assigned to Engineers, Bureaucrats, Foremen, Medics and other such senior Infrastructural personnel and their families. Many of the Commercial spaces remain unused. This has eased the housing situation considerably and has vastly raised housing quality but even as work on UL-144 comes to completion more workers are being brought in with further construction planned.
Even so, the CT-3 Component set was designed as an interim measure. More immediately, the Committee is looking towards refining it's prefab set-ups to further streamline construction as well as other refinements which will become more practical as industry improves. More long term, CT-3 buildings were made with a fairly short intended lifespan of 25 years.
The floor-plan for a basic 36m² single room prefab apartment, such as those in UL-178. It includes a bathroom complete with tub and flush toilet, a kitchen with it's own sink, a dedicated bedroom and a bathroom. Windows are double panned for better heat retention in winter months. Water and gas pipes are run through a vertical shaft. While the floor is bare here to illustrate the placement of floor slabs, wood and tiled flooring would be installed for the comfort of it's residents. The CT-3 set of precast panels can been laid out into myriad configurations, with other layouts for 36m² and 48 m² one-room, 60m² two-room and 72 m² three-room apartments have also been authorized in what would be the largest and most ambitious Infrastructural Public Housing project to date.
Another apartment built from CT-3 prefab panels. This one slightly larger with an extra pair of floor panels to up the space to 48m². The bedroom and living room are more spacious. A few items of common furniture have been added for some context.
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Chapter Thirty Eight
Zor
More of a Zor than You
(The former construction site UL-144, winter 46 IA)
With deceptive ease, the mass of a drop hammer rose into the air before it came crashing down onto a length of red hot steel with a heavy crunch. The process repeated as the length was shifted from die to die by a pair of graspers to further refine it's shape and a spritz of lubricant, and was shifted again to repeat the process further after that. Then what had been a simple bar of heated metal was pulled free of the massive jaws of the mechanism and put onto a hook on the chain.
Andrey Sakharov inspected the product and found it good. It was impressive what these machines could do, even though it needed a strong hand do to it. The form was complex and deliberate, designed to do a specific job, but it was still not done. He put the glowing form on a set onto a wire conveyor which sent it off for fine processing.
A month ago, some Recruiters went to his workshop in search of experienced workers, machinists, technicians and mechanics. They offered wages starting at 25 Credits a day for experienced workers along with a housing voucher and numerous benefits, though it meant moving up north to the Urblaast/Loriv Development Zone. There was a lot of people who were going up that way for more than two years, though most of them had jobs which related to the construction industry. There were a few people he'd miss back at work and he'd would be leaving his parents, but between the pay, benefits and the chance of being part of something bigger than himself the decision was clear.
Now he was here in the monstrous Factory and he had plenty to do. Outside it was snowing, but you'd guess it deep in the heat of the metalworking section. After safety briefings and some tutorials, he soon got into the rhythm of the machinery and it was amazing how quickly the rough blanks were turned into Crankshafts. Even so he was but a small part of the workings of this place and there was always need for more.
The freshly forged crankshafts were sent up a level in the factory. There they were put through finishing and quality control in a steady stream which soon became a tributary to a greater tributary as they were put into cast iron engine block moving along their own line. Said plates would continue on to have other components added to them in a precise order at other stations, along with various tests and inspections until at the end a new four-cylinder inline engine was completed. Once completed these were hitched to a bracket, winched up, moved to a trapdoor and gradually lowered into the factory's ultimate Assembly Line.
Natia Kuzemko and her colleague Victor Gurevych watched as the 181 kg mass of iron and steel descended to their level over the chassis. In general things looked good, but you could never be too careful. Both reached up to grab the massive thing to guide it into it's new home. With care and precision they guided the massive form into place so that it's sockets slotted into their holes neatly. That done, Victor removed the harnesses while Natia fastened the Engine into place, making sure that everything was firm. The bracket was winched back up, the chassis was pulled away and a new one was brought in. Soon enough, the process repeated.
Of all the people working at the Urblaast/Loriv complex Natia was a bit of an outlier in how she looked at the place. Victor could and did wax poetic about the place in the cafeteria or when he was off shift. Beforehand she'd worked at Dalatyr Bicycle Factory and much like that, there was an assembly line which step by step made frames, wheels, handles, brakes, seats, pedals, chains and so forth and put them together to make something you could ride around on with workers doing one thing as they put things together. As far as she saw this, the Urblaast/Loriv Automobile Factory (formally UL-144), while definitely imposing and impressive in it's scale and and magnitude was just this process scaled up. It was not that she begrudged Victor's rose tinted vision of the place and she did take some pride in the final product, but the romantic appeal of this place had a lot less grip on her. First and foremost she had a job to do which was, once you got into the routine of it, boring. Even so, the pay was exceptional, she did not have to work out in the snow and she had three kids who'd have nicer childhoods than she ever did. As far as she was concerned, that was more than enough.
There were many abilities that the Central Committee had that were impressive and seen with respect, awe and often jealousy by others. Natasha Smedth, who had more experience with them than most, found herself admiring the fact that they were utterly unfazed by cold. It was only five days until New Years Day and she lead Transition Of Mobile Macrofauna From Marine To Terrestrial Environments-402122 (Transition) through an inspection. Transition was just fine stomping about in -15 degree weather in an office uniform while Natasha had to bundle when they went out to ULAF's external storage yard to inspect it's ultimate product. Two hundred new SL-47 Lorries stood ready, parked in neat rows before they would be sent off.
"Have you operated one of the factory's vehicles?" Transition said apropos of nothing.
"Yes Committee Member." Natasha replied. "Twice, one of the test batch made three weeks ago and another on Wednesday."
"How does it drive?"
"Pretty good, not as good as some of the projects in Dalatyr. Turning radius is a bit wide, the breaks can be jerky and the clutch is a bit stiff, but I've driven plenty worse. The factory's driver's reports go into more detail, so would those working on the construction sites outside."
"Correct, but they are experienced drivers. Thousands of novices will be taking to the road for the first time next year and that number will increase going forward."
A couple seconds latter, the factory door opened and a new lorry puttered out to it's space in the lot.
"Ten minutes and thirteen seconds. Within expected parameters for the initial phase. Very good."
When it came to moving goods from Point A to B, Infrastructure had several options. Paddlesteamers and Trains were both immensely useful, though they both had limitations. Roadsteamers and the newer Internal Combustion road vehicles were more flexible and certain advantages over short to medium distances, but their use had been limited by being expensive and difficult to produce. For every motorized road vehicle in Infrastructure, there was a vast number of horse, ox and donkey drawn carts which plodded along at little better than walking pace. ULAF was made to correct this and would soon improve logistics at the ground level considerably, leaving aside things such as firetrucks and ambulances. Her considerable wage was still appreciated but being at the forefront of technological progress, especially when it would improve the lives of millions gave her a thrill that no credits could match.
"Thank you ma'am." Natasha said smiling as they continued on.
(Cendoliath Colonies, Northwestern Continent, Early Spring, 47 IA)
Like many members of the ancient warrior houses, Lady Kaithal ti'Zaljan was not well disposed to the Colonies on the Northwestern Continent. It was not an objection to expansion, she did firmly believe that it was the destiny of the Drow to rule this world - the issue was who had established themselves in this far land. She could respect the audacity and determination of House Jalnoth to carve out a home for themselves in the Far West even if they had been small-minded incompetent spendthrift reprobates, but they set a precedent which gave the dregs of society an easy path to power and prominence. Instead of proving ones' worth to the race through martial skill or mystical prowess against the High Kingdom, Dwarves or the battle hardened human realms of Ilvamicum, at most all a Discarded wretch needed to do was fight off some savages that barely have iron tools and the odd bandit while exhibiting basic sense and they'd could easily obtain a plot of land. The fact that they were competitors on the grain market was a secondary but significant factor in her opinion. Even so, she had eventually financed a few of her vassals to establish themselves about a century ago and regardless the colony of Kzeth Cendoliath* did have a surplus of resources and space, which would serve her needs.
A week ago, she had arrived in the colonies mostly on High Council business. There had been changes in the city since her last visit thirty seven years ago but mostly her opinion remained the same, a ramshackle facsimile of the ancient city that was now slightly larger. On her agenda was a visit to the holdings of House Gilyeil to see one of the most promising developments, leaving with a small retinue. As she approached noticed something strange: a train of wagons laden with iron plates being pulled along by a Valcas style engine along a set of rails. The vehicle had been imported a few weeks before the creation of the Mechanical Military Relevance Board and was grandfathered through. It was not all bad, the smoking things were useful for moving bulk cargo and slaves about the colony overland. Still she was glad that the reasonably compliant House Cytrath had been issued a monopoly on their use and a ban had been issued for running Drow passenger services.
House Gilyeil was one of House Zaljan's greatest vassals, initially a minor merchant house which acted as one of their factors in international trade they had done well in the last century and a half by establishing a foothold in the Far West after the war with the Raptors, becoming the nucleus of a new fishing town and eventually building some Drydocks. After Barded Leviathan was put into order, she'd poured money into it and made sure that they got contracts. In no small part she was here to see her investment.
After greetings were made, she soon got to work. Refreshment was offered, but she politely declined a full meal for herself after arrival and settled to have a flask of amber wine brought along for her convenience. First they went by the Timber Yards where logs were shaped and boards were processed, then the rope walks and forges, the workhalls where slave carpenters shaped forms and after that one of the main observation towers. The ascent was a bit of a pain, but the view was exceptional. Before her six massive hulls were taking shape surrounded by scaffolds, cranes, ramps and piles of supplies as teams of workers swarmed over them and around them under the supervision of stern overseers. Two of them were little more than keels while four were well under way, with hull planks and black iron plates.
"I see that our investment has paid off." She admitted. The fact that facility had quadrupled in size and capacity over the last five years was a good sign. "Going by your last report, the four ships to the left would be completed in ten to fifteen months. Are things still proceeding on schedule?"
"Indeed my lady." Weifran ti'Gilyeil said.
"And the issue with the cranes have been resolved?"
"The final issues were sorted out last week. The last of revised boilers arrived last month from House Galxrath. With then we've had no burst seems and coal consumption has been reduced by twenty percent."
"Very good. The last thing we need are more delays."
"We've also have begun switching from hammering armor plate to rolling them out. This has improved daily output and general quality."
"Indeed." Lady Kaithal said as she moved over to get a glass of wine. In truth, she had little concern about the technical details of shipbuilding or the ways it had changed over the last few decades. The main thrust of improvement here was still a matter of applying sufficient labour to the problem. What did matter about this venture was that new Ironclad ships were being delivered to the navy and that House Gilyeil was delivering them on time. Part of this was recouping her investment as House Zaljan got a cut of Gilyeil's dividends, part of this was securing connections with House Galxrath who provides the engines and other such mechanisms for the new ships as well as their cannons and rough armor plating and of course undermining House Celizoth and the rest of the Merchant Reformist ilk. Barded Leviathan was a massive construction push and despite their efforts Celizoth was still profiting by it. Every contract that was snatched from Reformist hands was a minor victory for the cause of maintaining the proper order of things even in the face of the new mechanical age.
*"Child of Cendoliath". New Cendoliath was considered as an alternate but rejected as there are no meaningful deposits of Obsidian in that part of the world.
(18km off the coast of Galthirith Colonies, northwester continent, Early Spring 47 IA)
"For countless millennia beneath a veil of stone...
...we rested together in mountain's bone.
Dark and cold it was, but that matter not...
...for we were together in that gloom.
We thought we would stay there forever...
...till a slave's pick sundered us from the earth."
These lyrics* were accompanied by the music of a lute and carried themselves over the rumble of waves and the rhythmic chugging of engines. They were recited in a voice which was pleasant and fair, but carried a measure of sarcasm. It would not be reckoned among the works of the masters of verse by any means, but it did have its impromptu charm for it's specific setting. Overseer Fharsiish ti'Znolin and and Gun-Master Grythej zi'Grolex were close and their second favourite thing to do together in their off hours was to perform and in general their songs and poems were mostly well received aboard the Vherimtraut** with a good repertoire of well known classics and original compilations which applied to the particularities of the ship and her crew. This one was in the latter camp, though it was mostly directed overboard to their temporary partner.
The poem continued on, following a love story between two lumps of iron ore which were separated by the circumstances of mining and smelted separately. There was pining and want between the two, until they met again. One lump ended up in the Vherimtraut's hull and is grateful and happy that it ended up as part of such a mighty warship, until it bore witness to the fate of the other as it was smelted into hull of the Throlixreth***, the ship which they were currently patrolling the coastline of Galthirith's colonies with, which it decried for it's shoddy workmanship. A few of the crew supplemented this with their own jeers and cat calls.
Rivalries between Drow ship's crews were normal, indeed rivalries were normal in general in Drow society. Even so, this one was a bit deeper than most. Vherimtraut and Throlixreth were built respectively by Houses Noljas and Narxath. Thirty years ago this would most largely have been overlooked. Now it had been inflamed by the Ironclad race and the politics associated with it. House Noljas by any reasonable standard was in the lead; having started earliest, extracting a lot of Infrastructural secrets and working out work-arounds to plug the gaps and building the factories, ironworks and machines to build these new ships which were second only to the Committee's work. In contrast House Narxath had been sluggards who started modernizing late, were usually slow on the uptake and made up for the difference by cutting corners. Despite this, they still got contracts because of Noljas' political rivalries.
The Throlixreth was emblematic of this. She was built alongside the Vherimtraut and were both launched at the same time and was notably cruder. House Noljas had pushed the envelope with an oil-fired engine, steel construction and a variety of the latest feature to improve performance from electric lighting to laundry-washing machines. In contrast, the Throlixreth was for the most part simple and basic as far as Ironclads went. About the only good things about her were a pair of 120-Vaul Noljas cannons and the rotating turret they were mounted in. Four years earlier there was an explosion with a test-turret at Noljas' shipyards which set back the project and let Narxath take the lead on that front. Foul play had been suspected, but was never proved. As such the Vherimtraut had her heavy guns in her hull as broadside weapons. The fact that an otherwise inferior ship had one big overt thing it's favor was something the Throlixreth's crew would brag and otherwise be utterly insufferable about.
That was the opinion of the crew of the Vherimtraut anyway and especially captain Freilysiin ti'Jaimis. For the last decade she'd worked with House Noljas on some of their steam frigates and was thrilled when she received news that she'd be given command of one of the new oil-fired Ironclads. The same went for many of her crew, who'd also worked with Noljas shipyards on various projects. She knew that they were pulling strings behind the scene to create Noljas aligned crews and frankly she was fine with that given her experience with Narxath gear. The important thing was that the crew was in high spirits as Fharsiish and Grythej got calls of encouragement from their crewmates and she could make out distant boos and disparaging remarks from the Throlixreth. She rolled her eyes at this as she made her rounds. Even so it would be advisable to direct her people to avoid going to the same bars as the Vherimtraut's crew on shore leave.
*Which loses a fair bit in translation.
**"Inevitability"
***"Troll Slayer'''
(25km southwest of Portus Fidelium, Fidelium, Spring 47 IA)
Juanillo De Manoro inspected the small vineyard on his small estate on a clear day on what at these latitudes was the end of summer, taking note of the progress of the vines. It was currently a side project that had yet to bear fruit. It would still be about a year before they would yield their first grape harvest, though he had high hopes for it in the future. After the wheat harvest checking up on the vines. Even with family and extra hands it was a backbreaking ordeal, though at the very least the harvest was excellent. He was measuring a stem crawling up it's tressel when his eldest son Adao came and told him that the new arrivals had arrived. He told the eight year old to get refreshment ready and that he'd see him.
About twenty minutes latter he stood out in front of his new house as a small crowd of fifteen people rounded the corner. Five men, six women and four children, all of which looked worn. Clad in ragged dirty clothes and carrying makeshift backpacks, sacks and a small hand-cart the motley collection carried themselves differently than the reserved and unobtrusive way that most Fidelians did, nor did they have the rigid discipline of Janissaries nor the strutting swagger of mercenaries. In general their body language conveyed relief. Whatever doubt might have lingered died when their leader advanced and spoke.
"Good morning. I am Grinoldi De Bravoure, most likely the Baron De Bravoure by Right though our estates lie in the hands of rebels." He spoke with an educated Avesian accent and made a show of looking strong.
"Welcome, Baron De Bravoure." Juanillo replied, the use of the title put a smile on the man's face "I am Jaunillo Fillipe Gruzman De Manoro and this is my humble abode." By the standards of his childhood it was humble: a simple two-storey stucco and brick brick building with a smaller wooden building attached and an external kitchen though it was luxurious by the standards of Fidelium. For simple things like bricks at least a Trono went further here than in Torion.
"For the last decade, my family has survived in exile in Noldolia as best we can with our limited means. As have many of our countrymen until we received word from your uncle's agents of his plan. Though the journey was long and hard, we are more than willing to make a new home here."
Juanillo Smiled and put his hand on Grinoldi's shoulder. "My Baron. There may have been rivalries between our families in the past, but that was then and this is now. We've all been through the ordeals of the Invasion and Exile. All the works of our forefathers snatched away and crushed in the the steel jaws of that damnable Great Machine. It would be my honour to help you establish yourself here, long with the rest of your party. It will take hard work and I will need you to render some help on my farm while things progress along, but together you can tame this land quickly and build comfortable farmsteads. And while we put the land into order we have beds and the means to feed you. I offer this freely and I want not your payment or debt for this, I only ask that once you are established and able, you help bring over more of our peole and once they arrive help some of them as you were helped." His tone was gentle and reassuring, and Grinoldi began to weep. This was the second group his uncle sponsored and twice the size of the first. Juanillo and his people were just finishing getting the first group settled, with two out of three homesteads finished and the last two mostly done. Hopefully he could use this lot to finish that job in about a week. The fact that Hugo and Matero were both willing to help feed this lot was another plus. If Novo Avesia was to prosper, it needed strong connections.
"Thank you, good sir." He said meekly.
"It's only the decent thing to do. But now, you and your people look thirsty." He snapped his finger and a slave came over with a flask of lemon flavoured water. A cup was poured and Grinoldi knocked it back without a second thought. Currently Juanillo had three slaves and was planning on acquiring a forth. Keeping 160 acres in order was hard work in of itself, let alone caring for more than a dozen refugees.
(Urblaast/Loriv Construction Zone, Spring 47 IA)
"We're doing okay?" Ghrody Tsimil asked as he backed up with a massive backboard in hand.
"Yep, just peachy. Just two more doors to go. Maybe thirty meters" His partner Stepan said, as he was in the rear he was the eyes the operation. Both of them alternated and had confidence in the other's coordination.
"Good to here. Don't want to drop it and mess up Fedorov."
"Oh I hear that." Stepan said with a smile. Downstairs there was a room called a 'gym'. Apparently it was supposed to be a place to exercise in during winter or in heavy rain, but right now it was home to a lot of miscellaneous items, most notably a lot of blackboards. These each had a room number chalked on them, but a few of them had a few pictures scrawled on by board workers. Ghrody had no idea what moved someone to draw a picture of a frog driving a Steam Tractor, but both he and Stepan liked it. A short while latter they navigated through a room and they quickly put the blackboard in place and fixed it into place. The two of them admired the froggy absurdity for a second and went back down for another.
Even though it involved lugging heavy loads about, this part of the job was comparatively easy compared to some of the work he'd done and those that he'd likely be doing for some time to come. Like many at the time, Ghrody had thought of the general construction effort around the Urblaast/Loriv canal as being mostly about UL-144/ULAF with other projects to support it. Apartment buildings for the workers in that monster factory, trolley lines to move them from their flats to the factory and back, that sort of thing. Once he saw the trucks that it had made, he'd figured that things would begin winding down on the construction front. This school, a far cry from his humble one-room schoolhouse, seemed to him to be one of the finishing touches along with the landscaping. Instead they continued and if anything were picking up. Dozens more apartment buildings were under way, along with roads to reach them, sewer and water lines to service them, other structures who's purpose eluded him and more warehouses and factories now that spring had come again. In a couple more days, all the fixtures would be installed and he'd be sent on to the next project. Not that he was troubled by this, steady work was steady work. But like many he was left wondering.
The image Federov the Frog would remain unmolested for several months and would be recorded for posterity by a photographer by one of the teachers. For decades to come, Frogs driving Tractors would be a running joke for the students and staff of Kiavier District Elementary.
(Urblaast Loriv Automobile Factory, Late Spring 47 IA)
Six months ago, Lavra Lymirelko was offered a position at ULAF when it began operation. A fair number of the Clerks who had done the paperwork for it during construction were given similar job offers and like most of them she accepted. It was steady work and the pay was better, though it did mean leaving Dalatyr behind; that was a bit sad, but she could deal with it.
Much of the work was familiar enough in any case. She was put in Procurement, dealing with the inflow of supplies needed to keep the monster factory running from steel and machine components to toilet paper. She processed requisition forms, relayed information to suppliers, inspected received shipments, compiled logs, that sort of thing. Even with twenty four other Clerks in her department there was always a lot to do. The hammering and ringing of typewriters was a constant buzz in the background as she worked. With such a volume of paperwork to deal with, most of what she dealt with was soon lost to memory. Even so there were occasionally things which stuck out.
On a warm day late in spring she received an unusual memo. It started out fairly with something fairly routine: 'Special Requisition for Cafeteria Provisions'. ULAF employed 7,000 people and while brown bagging it was reasonably common on average a majority of the workers got at least one meal a day from it, so it's pantries needed regular provisioning. But as she read on she noticed an oddity in the list '20 m3 Hygienic Lager (barrels preferred)'. That was odd, the Cafeteria usually served nothing stronger than Kvass and drinking on the job was strictly banned. The rest of the list was more prosaic, but includes a fair deal of meat and a few other items. Then there was the deadline 'Deliver for 28/6/47 IA. Priority-B. Bureaucrat L-7 Alexi Vavilov, ULAF Director of Supply.'
She knew the handwriting, though the signature and stamp made it official. Priority-B was remarkably high for food, a fair deal of the actual manufacturing inputs were typically listed as Priority-C and occasionally D. Some of this would be requisitioned from Ministry of Distribution and the rest would come from independent suppliers. There was a month to sort it out at least, though it would a lot of paperwork, requests and in many cases face-to-face meetings and some of the items would have to be delivered fresh.
She fed a fresh sheet of paper into the typewrite and began to type out the first request form. If she was to hazard a guess, it looked like they were aiming to provision a feast for the workforce on the summer solstice. This was hardly unprecedented, it was a holiday and not a unwanted development even if it did mean a lot of work for herself. An assessment which was not wrong, but only part of the story of that day.
(4,800km SSW of Higato, Late Spring, 47 IA)
The Drow were framed for their pride and arrogance, it's rather strongly encouraged when your culture firmly believes that is it's divinely ordained destiny to dominate the world. Countless stories and accounts of this pride and arrogance have been told many of which have at least a grain of truth to them. Thus it would come to as a shock to some when Dhavris ti'Dailath, eldest son of Gatahrin ti'Dailath got on his knees and bowed before Jayhamrhasa Turnukrani, fourteenth King of Tahajemit. To achieve the glorious ends it aspired to it needed to be reigned in.
"Your Serene Highness, it is a honour to be in your presence."
"Indeed Master of Janilonas, you may speak freely." The King said. At thirty he was handsome, keen and intelligent though still impatient. He'd made his name in the border wars against the petty kingdoms and had made good use of the capital his father had gifted him. Thankfully this meant that he was more willing to dispense with
"In the last few years we've received disturbing reports to the North."
"You speak of those Infrastructural making overtures to Higato and providing them with new weapons?" The King replied, he did try to keep up to date on current affairs. "I've heard of the reports on several expeditions and the casualties they've suffered."
"Of course. But far more worrying is that they've more open with their mechanical secrets than with anyone else. I fear that if we leave it, that field shall grow fallow for your brave men."
"And your merchants will suffer as well."
"Indeed so."
"And since you're here, what is your proposition to prevent this prediction? More orchards of those 'latex' trees I presume?"
"I would not argue against that." The price of Latex was going up. Previously it was a largely curiosity discovered on a few islands close to Raptor territory which saw some use in drain plugs and pencil erasers, but over the last decade the Coldlander's interest in the substance, their sulphur treatment processes and industrial uses had seen it's value shoot up. A couple years ago, a few enterprising merchants convinced some local nobles to grow a few saplings on their estates as Tahajemit's equatorial climate was well suited for them, though harvesting was a few years away and it would take longer still to scale up production. "Even so, a more proactive course would be more productive."
"Very well, explain."
"A coordinated expedition by thirty ships to Higato, each outfitted with new model cannons and with heavily armed crews. They could easily bring back seven thousand captives. More if we can get more crews to go along and if they take a few trade ships to pad their numbers."
"Expeditions are launched on their own time-tables at targets of their captain's choosing. So I trust you have financing in mind."
"Indeed your Majesty. House Dailath and three associated great houses are willing to provide some 60,000 scimitars to commission the expedition through your government, as well our merchants would be willing to extend a discount of 1/5th to contract holders for a few new cannons and rifles."
"To me such an offer does seem a costly affair." The king said as he scratched his chin.
"We prefer to think of it as investment to insure the continued success of a partner that has been imperilled by unforeseen circumstances."
"What of the potential Infrastructural Retaliation?"
This was the tricky part. "They are on the far side of the world. Similarly they have signed a treaty with the Coldlanders which protects your sovereignty from their aggression. Should they seek war, take comfort in the the fact that four Drow states stand between you and them." The fact that such a war would be a bloody one even with the new Ironclads sailing out of Dark Elven drydocks was not worth mentioning.
"I would have to read the proposition for myself, as would some of my senior courtiers. Even so, you have our interest and and baring uncharacteristic duplicity we will be receptive."
"Thank you, your grace." He signalled an aide to present the document for the king's perusal. Whatever the thoughts and intentions of the Committee might be in aiding Higato, undermining the far eastern slave trade was an obvious goal for them. Already some crews (including those from Tahajemit as well as Ilhong and Ztuhtrim) had faced Higatoan warriors with Coldlander rifles which had raised casualties and there had been a spike of repulsed expeditions and lost ships over the last year. A situation which could only get worse if left unintended. About the only only people in the Drow States who'd profit from that were Lady Valcas and the rest of the damned fools who supported that Fidelium nonsense. This needed to be nipped in the bud. A single massive raid that would sweep away several villages or a town or two would cost Higato and hinder their development, as would follow ups to be launched over the next two months. His colleagues in Ilhong and Ztuhrim were making similar offers to their monarchs and in by what he'd read they were receptive.
In of itself this would not be a mortal blow, but it was a low cost low risk measure which at the very least would buy them time.
(Smedth District, 3km from ULAF, Summer Solstice, 47 IA)
Summer Solstice was a holiday in Infrastructure, not as weighty as New Years' Day, Unification Day, Worker's Day or the Bounty Festival but still generally a pleasant affair. Many factories offered a day off and there was usually music, dancing, flyting contests and other competitions and so forth. Around the Urblaast/Loriv construction zone for 47 IA, things were ramped up. Factories offered their employees and families a substantial feast, Hygienic Beer was distributed in the streets along with Kvas, tea and pastries, a parade was organized, mechanical rides were set up and several big shows were organized. There were even a few foreign ambassadors in the area, who were well wined and dined in their Hotels even though they wondered why they had been brought out here.
Most of these activities were pre-planned and organized ahead of time with posters set up. Even so, there were also fliers distributed on the day itself which simply announced that in Smedth District there would be a big announcement at 21:00. As the hour approached about twenty three thousand people would approach a small but well secured stage. People wondered what it could be about, until 21:00 came and arriving in an SL-47 Lorry arrived Supernova, who took to the platform with only the shining of spotlights and a brief fanfare by a marching band. The area was secure and cameras (including both film Cameras and a smaller Fabricated unit) were set up to document this historic moment for general distribution.
"Citizens of Infrastructure." She said. Her voice amplified by loudspeakers and relayed by Radio. "On this fine Solstice, have you been having a good time?"
There was general cheering. Supernova grinned at this, finding their exultation stimulating.
"Very Good." She said as the roar faded. "For at this Midyear we have much to celebrate. A week ago, ULAF has completed it's sixth thousand Lorry. Fifty two new Apartment Buildings have been completed, along with Eight new Schools, Twelve daycare centres and other such facilities. Three new Trolley routes are in operation, as has a new hospital and ground has been broken on a new Engineering Academy. This Month a new Bread Factory was completed. But while all of this is all worthy of commendation, I have not come here to simply rattle off construction figures and statistics."
"Over the past few years, much has been built here. Much remains to be done in this Zone still and will continue for time to come. Even so, the preliminary goal of an automotive assembly line has been here achieved." The was another round of applause. "And with that, we can announce the true function of this venture. Many have believed that what has been built here was simply a Duotown, an overgrown Monotown built merely to accommodate and support the workforce of the Urblaast/Loriv Steelworks and the Urblaast Loriv Automobile Factories. An impression which we lightly encouraged and this was an objective, but one which falls short of our purpose here."
"Today we celibate not only the longest day of the year, but the creation of something the world has never seen before and it's formal creation. A City built from it's foundations up by Industrial means with homes, shops, workplaces and recreational spaces built with technological convenience first and foremost. Where transport is easy, waste is dealt with efficiently and everyone has access to Medical Care, Artwork and Entertainment. Homes warm in winter and green in summer. A City that shall show the wonders of the Great Machine, a beacon who's brilliance shall show the world the way to a glorious new technological age."
"Citizens of Infrastructure. Welcome...to the Radiant City!"
With that, banners were unfurled and the bands struck up. There was cheering in the crowd and throughout the Radiant City it echoed.
With deceptive ease, the mass of a drop hammer rose into the air before it came crashing down onto a length of red hot steel with a heavy crunch. The process repeated as the length was shifted from die to die by a pair of graspers to further refine it's shape and a spritz of lubricant, and was shifted again to repeat the process further after that. Then what had been a simple bar of heated metal was pulled free of the massive jaws of the mechanism and put onto a hook on the chain.
Andrey Sakharov inspected the product and found it good. It was impressive what these machines could do, even though it needed a strong hand do to it. The form was complex and deliberate, designed to do a specific job, but it was still not done. He put the glowing form on a set onto a wire conveyor which sent it off for fine processing.
A month ago, some Recruiters went to his workshop in search of experienced workers, machinists, technicians and mechanics. They offered wages starting at 25 Credits a day for experienced workers along with a housing voucher and numerous benefits, though it meant moving up north to the Urblaast/Loriv Development Zone. There was a lot of people who were going up that way for more than two years, though most of them had jobs which related to the construction industry. There were a few people he'd miss back at work and he'd would be leaving his parents, but between the pay, benefits and the chance of being part of something bigger than himself the decision was clear.
Now he was here in the monstrous Factory and he had plenty to do. Outside it was snowing, but you'd guess it deep in the heat of the metalworking section. After safety briefings and some tutorials, he soon got into the rhythm of the machinery and it was amazing how quickly the rough blanks were turned into Crankshafts. Even so he was but a small part of the workings of this place and there was always need for more.
The freshly forged crankshafts were sent up a level in the factory. There they were put through finishing and quality control in a steady stream which soon became a tributary to a greater tributary as they were put into cast iron engine block moving along their own line. Said plates would continue on to have other components added to them in a precise order at other stations, along with various tests and inspections until at the end a new four-cylinder inline engine was completed. Once completed these were hitched to a bracket, winched up, moved to a trapdoor and gradually lowered into the factory's ultimate Assembly Line.
Natia Kuzemko and her colleague Victor Gurevych watched as the 181 kg mass of iron and steel descended to their level over the chassis. In general things looked good, but you could never be too careful. Both reached up to grab the massive thing to guide it into it's new home. With care and precision they guided the massive form into place so that it's sockets slotted into their holes neatly. That done, Victor removed the harnesses while Natia fastened the Engine into place, making sure that everything was firm. The bracket was winched back up, the chassis was pulled away and a new one was brought in. Soon enough, the process repeated.
Of all the people working at the Urblaast/Loriv complex Natia was a bit of an outlier in how she looked at the place. Victor could and did wax poetic about the place in the cafeteria or when he was off shift. Beforehand she'd worked at Dalatyr Bicycle Factory and much like that, there was an assembly line which step by step made frames, wheels, handles, brakes, seats, pedals, chains and so forth and put them together to make something you could ride around on with workers doing one thing as they put things together. As far as she saw this, the Urblaast/Loriv Automobile Factory (formally UL-144), while definitely imposing and impressive in it's scale and and magnitude was just this process scaled up. It was not that she begrudged Victor's rose tinted vision of the place and she did take some pride in the final product, but the romantic appeal of this place had a lot less grip on her. First and foremost she had a job to do which was, once you got into the routine of it, boring. Even so, the pay was exceptional, she did not have to work out in the snow and she had three kids who'd have nicer childhoods than she ever did. As far as she was concerned, that was more than enough.
"Have you operated one of the factory's vehicles?" Transition said apropos of nothing.
"Yes Committee Member." Natasha replied. "Twice, one of the test batch made three weeks ago and another on Wednesday."
"How does it drive?"
"Pretty good, not as good as some of the projects in Dalatyr. Turning radius is a bit wide, the breaks can be jerky and the clutch is a bit stiff, but I've driven plenty worse. The factory's driver's reports go into more detail, so would those working on the construction sites outside."
"Correct, but they are experienced drivers. Thousands of novices will be taking to the road for the first time next year and that number will increase going forward."
A couple seconds latter, the factory door opened and a new lorry puttered out to it's space in the lot.
"Ten minutes and thirteen seconds. Within expected parameters for the initial phase. Very good."
When it came to moving goods from Point A to B, Infrastructure had several options. Paddlesteamers and Trains were both immensely useful, though they both had limitations. Roadsteamers and the newer Internal Combustion road vehicles were more flexible and certain advantages over short to medium distances, but their use had been limited by being expensive and difficult to produce. For every motorized road vehicle in Infrastructure, there was a vast number of horse, ox and donkey drawn carts which plodded along at little better than walking pace. ULAF was made to correct this and would soon improve logistics at the ground level considerably, leaving aside things such as firetrucks and ambulances. Her considerable wage was still appreciated but being at the forefront of technological progress, especially when it would improve the lives of millions gave her a thrill that no credits could match.
"Thank you ma'am." Natasha said smiling as they continued on.
(Cendoliath Colonies, Northwestern Continent, Early Spring, 47 IA)
Like many members of the ancient warrior houses, Lady Kaithal ti'Zaljan was not well disposed to the Colonies on the Northwestern Continent. It was not an objection to expansion, she did firmly believe that it was the destiny of the Drow to rule this world - the issue was who had established themselves in this far land. She could respect the audacity and determination of House Jalnoth to carve out a home for themselves in the Far West even if they had been small-minded incompetent spendthrift reprobates, but they set a precedent which gave the dregs of society an easy path to power and prominence. Instead of proving ones' worth to the race through martial skill or mystical prowess against the High Kingdom, Dwarves or the battle hardened human realms of Ilvamicum, at most all a Discarded wretch needed to do was fight off some savages that barely have iron tools and the odd bandit while exhibiting basic sense and they'd could easily obtain a plot of land. The fact that they were competitors on the grain market was a secondary but significant factor in her opinion. Even so, she had eventually financed a few of her vassals to establish themselves about a century ago and regardless the colony of Kzeth Cendoliath* did have a surplus of resources and space, which would serve her needs.
A week ago, she had arrived in the colonies mostly on High Council business. There had been changes in the city since her last visit thirty seven years ago but mostly her opinion remained the same, a ramshackle facsimile of the ancient city that was now slightly larger. On her agenda was a visit to the holdings of House Gilyeil to see one of the most promising developments, leaving with a small retinue. As she approached noticed something strange: a train of wagons laden with iron plates being pulled along by a Valcas style engine along a set of rails. The vehicle had been imported a few weeks before the creation of the Mechanical Military Relevance Board and was grandfathered through. It was not all bad, the smoking things were useful for moving bulk cargo and slaves about the colony overland. Still she was glad that the reasonably compliant House Cytrath had been issued a monopoly on their use and a ban had been issued for running Drow passenger services.
House Gilyeil was one of House Zaljan's greatest vassals, initially a minor merchant house which acted as one of their factors in international trade they had done well in the last century and a half by establishing a foothold in the Far West after the war with the Raptors, becoming the nucleus of a new fishing town and eventually building some Drydocks. After Barded Leviathan was put into order, she'd poured money into it and made sure that they got contracts. In no small part she was here to see her investment.
After greetings were made, she soon got to work. Refreshment was offered, but she politely declined a full meal for herself after arrival and settled to have a flask of amber wine brought along for her convenience. First they went by the Timber Yards where logs were shaped and boards were processed, then the rope walks and forges, the workhalls where slave carpenters shaped forms and after that one of the main observation towers. The ascent was a bit of a pain, but the view was exceptional. Before her six massive hulls were taking shape surrounded by scaffolds, cranes, ramps and piles of supplies as teams of workers swarmed over them and around them under the supervision of stern overseers. Two of them were little more than keels while four were well under way, with hull planks and black iron plates.
"I see that our investment has paid off." She admitted. The fact that facility had quadrupled in size and capacity over the last five years was a good sign. "Going by your last report, the four ships to the left would be completed in ten to fifteen months. Are things still proceeding on schedule?"
"Indeed my lady." Weifran ti'Gilyeil said.
"And the issue with the cranes have been resolved?"
"The final issues were sorted out last week. The last of revised boilers arrived last month from House Galxrath. With then we've had no burst seems and coal consumption has been reduced by twenty percent."
"Very good. The last thing we need are more delays."
"We've also have begun switching from hammering armor plate to rolling them out. This has improved daily output and general quality."
"Indeed." Lady Kaithal said as she moved over to get a glass of wine. In truth, she had little concern about the technical details of shipbuilding or the ways it had changed over the last few decades. The main thrust of improvement here was still a matter of applying sufficient labour to the problem. What did matter about this venture was that new Ironclad ships were being delivered to the navy and that House Gilyeil was delivering them on time. Part of this was recouping her investment as House Zaljan got a cut of Gilyeil's dividends, part of this was securing connections with House Galxrath who provides the engines and other such mechanisms for the new ships as well as their cannons and rough armor plating and of course undermining House Celizoth and the rest of the Merchant Reformist ilk. Barded Leviathan was a massive construction push and despite their efforts Celizoth was still profiting by it. Every contract that was snatched from Reformist hands was a minor victory for the cause of maintaining the proper order of things even in the face of the new mechanical age.
*"Child of Cendoliath". New Cendoliath was considered as an alternate but rejected as there are no meaningful deposits of Obsidian in that part of the world.
(18km off the coast of Galthirith Colonies, northwester continent, Early Spring 47 IA)
"For countless millennia beneath a veil of stone...
...we rested together in mountain's bone.
Dark and cold it was, but that matter not...
...for we were together in that gloom.
We thought we would stay there forever...
...till a slave's pick sundered us from the earth."
These lyrics* were accompanied by the music of a lute and carried themselves over the rumble of waves and the rhythmic chugging of engines. They were recited in a voice which was pleasant and fair, but carried a measure of sarcasm. It would not be reckoned among the works of the masters of verse by any means, but it did have its impromptu charm for it's specific setting. Overseer Fharsiish ti'Znolin and and Gun-Master Grythej zi'Grolex were close and their second favourite thing to do together in their off hours was to perform and in general their songs and poems were mostly well received aboard the Vherimtraut** with a good repertoire of well known classics and original compilations which applied to the particularities of the ship and her crew. This one was in the latter camp, though it was mostly directed overboard to their temporary partner.
The poem continued on, following a love story between two lumps of iron ore which were separated by the circumstances of mining and smelted separately. There was pining and want between the two, until they met again. One lump ended up in the Vherimtraut's hull and is grateful and happy that it ended up as part of such a mighty warship, until it bore witness to the fate of the other as it was smelted into hull of the Throlixreth***, the ship which they were currently patrolling the coastline of Galthirith's colonies with, which it decried for it's shoddy workmanship. A few of the crew supplemented this with their own jeers and cat calls.
Rivalries between Drow ship's crews were normal, indeed rivalries were normal in general in Drow society. Even so, this one was a bit deeper than most. Vherimtraut and Throlixreth were built respectively by Houses Noljas and Narxath. Thirty years ago this would most largely have been overlooked. Now it had been inflamed by the Ironclad race and the politics associated with it. House Noljas by any reasonable standard was in the lead; having started earliest, extracting a lot of Infrastructural secrets and working out work-arounds to plug the gaps and building the factories, ironworks and machines to build these new ships which were second only to the Committee's work. In contrast House Narxath had been sluggards who started modernizing late, were usually slow on the uptake and made up for the difference by cutting corners. Despite this, they still got contracts because of Noljas' political rivalries.
The Throlixreth was emblematic of this. She was built alongside the Vherimtraut and were both launched at the same time and was notably cruder. House Noljas had pushed the envelope with an oil-fired engine, steel construction and a variety of the latest feature to improve performance from electric lighting to laundry-washing machines. In contrast, the Throlixreth was for the most part simple and basic as far as Ironclads went. About the only good things about her were a pair of 120-Vaul Noljas cannons and the rotating turret they were mounted in. Four years earlier there was an explosion with a test-turret at Noljas' shipyards which set back the project and let Narxath take the lead on that front. Foul play had been suspected, but was never proved. As such the Vherimtraut had her heavy guns in her hull as broadside weapons. The fact that an otherwise inferior ship had one big overt thing it's favor was something the Throlixreth's crew would brag and otherwise be utterly insufferable about.
That was the opinion of the crew of the Vherimtraut anyway and especially captain Freilysiin ti'Jaimis. For the last decade she'd worked with House Noljas on some of their steam frigates and was thrilled when she received news that she'd be given command of one of the new oil-fired Ironclads. The same went for many of her crew, who'd also worked with Noljas shipyards on various projects. She knew that they were pulling strings behind the scene to create Noljas aligned crews and frankly she was fine with that given her experience with Narxath gear. The important thing was that the crew was in high spirits as Fharsiish and Grythej got calls of encouragement from their crewmates and she could make out distant boos and disparaging remarks from the Throlixreth. She rolled her eyes at this as she made her rounds. Even so it would be advisable to direct her people to avoid going to the same bars as the Vherimtraut's crew on shore leave.
*Which loses a fair bit in translation.
**"Inevitability"
***"Troll Slayer'''
(25km southwest of Portus Fidelium, Fidelium, Spring 47 IA)
Juanillo De Manoro inspected the small vineyard on his small estate on a clear day on what at these latitudes was the end of summer, taking note of the progress of the vines. It was currently a side project that had yet to bear fruit. It would still be about a year before they would yield their first grape harvest, though he had high hopes for it in the future. After the wheat harvest checking up on the vines. Even with family and extra hands it was a backbreaking ordeal, though at the very least the harvest was excellent. He was measuring a stem crawling up it's tressel when his eldest son Adao came and told him that the new arrivals had arrived. He told the eight year old to get refreshment ready and that he'd see him.
About twenty minutes latter he stood out in front of his new house as a small crowd of fifteen people rounded the corner. Five men, six women and four children, all of which looked worn. Clad in ragged dirty clothes and carrying makeshift backpacks, sacks and a small hand-cart the motley collection carried themselves differently than the reserved and unobtrusive way that most Fidelians did, nor did they have the rigid discipline of Janissaries nor the strutting swagger of mercenaries. In general their body language conveyed relief. Whatever doubt might have lingered died when their leader advanced and spoke.
"Good morning. I am Grinoldi De Bravoure, most likely the Baron De Bravoure by Right though our estates lie in the hands of rebels." He spoke with an educated Avesian accent and made a show of looking strong.
"Welcome, Baron De Bravoure." Juanillo replied, the use of the title put a smile on the man's face "I am Jaunillo Fillipe Gruzman De Manoro and this is my humble abode." By the standards of his childhood it was humble: a simple two-storey stucco and brick brick building with a smaller wooden building attached and an external kitchen though it was luxurious by the standards of Fidelium. For simple things like bricks at least a Trono went further here than in Torion.
"For the last decade, my family has survived in exile in Noldolia as best we can with our limited means. As have many of our countrymen until we received word from your uncle's agents of his plan. Though the journey was long and hard, we are more than willing to make a new home here."
Juanillo Smiled and put his hand on Grinoldi's shoulder. "My Baron. There may have been rivalries between our families in the past, but that was then and this is now. We've all been through the ordeals of the Invasion and Exile. All the works of our forefathers snatched away and crushed in the the steel jaws of that damnable Great Machine. It would be my honour to help you establish yourself here, long with the rest of your party. It will take hard work and I will need you to render some help on my farm while things progress along, but together you can tame this land quickly and build comfortable farmsteads. And while we put the land into order we have beds and the means to feed you. I offer this freely and I want not your payment or debt for this, I only ask that once you are established and able, you help bring over more of our peole and once they arrive help some of them as you were helped." His tone was gentle and reassuring, and Grinoldi began to weep. This was the second group his uncle sponsored and twice the size of the first. Juanillo and his people were just finishing getting the first group settled, with two out of three homesteads finished and the last two mostly done. Hopefully he could use this lot to finish that job in about a week. The fact that Hugo and Matero were both willing to help feed this lot was another plus. If Novo Avesia was to prosper, it needed strong connections.
"Thank you, good sir." He said meekly.
"It's only the decent thing to do. But now, you and your people look thirsty." He snapped his finger and a slave came over with a flask of lemon flavoured water. A cup was poured and Grinoldi knocked it back without a second thought. Currently Juanillo had three slaves and was planning on acquiring a forth. Keeping 160 acres in order was hard work in of itself, let alone caring for more than a dozen refugees.
"We're doing okay?" Ghrody Tsimil asked as he backed up with a massive backboard in hand.
"Yep, just peachy. Just two more doors to go. Maybe thirty meters" His partner Stepan said, as he was in the rear he was the eyes the operation. Both of them alternated and had confidence in the other's coordination.
"Good to here. Don't want to drop it and mess up Fedorov."
"Oh I hear that." Stepan said with a smile. Downstairs there was a room called a 'gym'. Apparently it was supposed to be a place to exercise in during winter or in heavy rain, but right now it was home to a lot of miscellaneous items, most notably a lot of blackboards. These each had a room number chalked on them, but a few of them had a few pictures scrawled on by board workers. Ghrody had no idea what moved someone to draw a picture of a frog driving a Steam Tractor, but both he and Stepan liked it. A short while latter they navigated through a room and they quickly put the blackboard in place and fixed it into place. The two of them admired the froggy absurdity for a second and went back down for another.
Even though it involved lugging heavy loads about, this part of the job was comparatively easy compared to some of the work he'd done and those that he'd likely be doing for some time to come. Like many at the time, Ghrody had thought of the general construction effort around the Urblaast/Loriv canal as being mostly about UL-144/ULAF with other projects to support it. Apartment buildings for the workers in that monster factory, trolley lines to move them from their flats to the factory and back, that sort of thing. Once he saw the trucks that it had made, he'd figured that things would begin winding down on the construction front. This school, a far cry from his humble one-room schoolhouse, seemed to him to be one of the finishing touches along with the landscaping. Instead they continued and if anything were picking up. Dozens more apartment buildings were under way, along with roads to reach them, sewer and water lines to service them, other structures who's purpose eluded him and more warehouses and factories now that spring had come again. In a couple more days, all the fixtures would be installed and he'd be sent on to the next project. Not that he was troubled by this, steady work was steady work. But like many he was left wondering.
The image Federov the Frog would remain unmolested for several months and would be recorded for posterity by a photographer by one of the teachers. For decades to come, Frogs driving Tractors would be a running joke for the students and staff of Kiavier District Elementary.
(Urblaast Loriv Automobile Factory, Late Spring 47 IA)
Six months ago, Lavra Lymirelko was offered a position at ULAF when it began operation. A fair number of the Clerks who had done the paperwork for it during construction were given similar job offers and like most of them she accepted. It was steady work and the pay was better, though it did mean leaving Dalatyr behind; that was a bit sad, but she could deal with it.
Much of the work was familiar enough in any case. She was put in Procurement, dealing with the inflow of supplies needed to keep the monster factory running from steel and machine components to toilet paper. She processed requisition forms, relayed information to suppliers, inspected received shipments, compiled logs, that sort of thing. Even with twenty four other Clerks in her department there was always a lot to do. The hammering and ringing of typewriters was a constant buzz in the background as she worked. With such a volume of paperwork to deal with, most of what she dealt with was soon lost to memory. Even so there were occasionally things which stuck out.
On a warm day late in spring she received an unusual memo. It started out fairly with something fairly routine: 'Special Requisition for Cafeteria Provisions'. ULAF employed 7,000 people and while brown bagging it was reasonably common on average a majority of the workers got at least one meal a day from it, so it's pantries needed regular provisioning. But as she read on she noticed an oddity in the list '20 m3 Hygienic Lager (barrels preferred)'. That was odd, the Cafeteria usually served nothing stronger than Kvass and drinking on the job was strictly banned. The rest of the list was more prosaic, but includes a fair deal of meat and a few other items. Then there was the deadline 'Deliver for 28/6/47 IA. Priority-B. Bureaucrat L-7 Alexi Vavilov, ULAF Director of Supply.'
She knew the handwriting, though the signature and stamp made it official. Priority-B was remarkably high for food, a fair deal of the actual manufacturing inputs were typically listed as Priority-C and occasionally D. Some of this would be requisitioned from Ministry of Distribution and the rest would come from independent suppliers. There was a month to sort it out at least, though it would a lot of paperwork, requests and in many cases face-to-face meetings and some of the items would have to be delivered fresh.
She fed a fresh sheet of paper into the typewrite and began to type out the first request form. If she was to hazard a guess, it looked like they were aiming to provision a feast for the workforce on the summer solstice. This was hardly unprecedented, it was a holiday and not a unwanted development even if it did mean a lot of work for herself. An assessment which was not wrong, but only part of the story of that day.
The Drow were framed for their pride and arrogance, it's rather strongly encouraged when your culture firmly believes that is it's divinely ordained destiny to dominate the world. Countless stories and accounts of this pride and arrogance have been told many of which have at least a grain of truth to them. Thus it would come to as a shock to some when Dhavris ti'Dailath, eldest son of Gatahrin ti'Dailath got on his knees and bowed before Jayhamrhasa Turnukrani, fourteenth King of Tahajemit. To achieve the glorious ends it aspired to it needed to be reigned in.
"Your Serene Highness, it is a honour to be in your presence."
"Indeed Master of Janilonas, you may speak freely." The King said. At thirty he was handsome, keen and intelligent though still impatient. He'd made his name in the border wars against the petty kingdoms and had made good use of the capital his father had gifted him. Thankfully this meant that he was more willing to dispense with
"In the last few years we've received disturbing reports to the North."
"You speak of those Infrastructural making overtures to Higato and providing them with new weapons?" The King replied, he did try to keep up to date on current affairs. "I've heard of the reports on several expeditions and the casualties they've suffered."
"Of course. But far more worrying is that they've more open with their mechanical secrets than with anyone else. I fear that if we leave it, that field shall grow fallow for your brave men."
"And your merchants will suffer as well."
"Indeed so."
"And since you're here, what is your proposition to prevent this prediction? More orchards of those 'latex' trees I presume?"
"I would not argue against that." The price of Latex was going up. Previously it was a largely curiosity discovered on a few islands close to Raptor territory which saw some use in drain plugs and pencil erasers, but over the last decade the Coldlander's interest in the substance, their sulphur treatment processes and industrial uses had seen it's value shoot up. A couple years ago, a few enterprising merchants convinced some local nobles to grow a few saplings on their estates as Tahajemit's equatorial climate was well suited for them, though harvesting was a few years away and it would take longer still to scale up production. "Even so, a more proactive course would be more productive."
"Very well, explain."
"A coordinated expedition by thirty ships to Higato, each outfitted with new model cannons and with heavily armed crews. They could easily bring back seven thousand captives. More if we can get more crews to go along and if they take a few trade ships to pad their numbers."
"Expeditions are launched on their own time-tables at targets of their captain's choosing. So I trust you have financing in mind."
"Indeed your Majesty. House Dailath and three associated great houses are willing to provide some 60,000 scimitars to commission the expedition through your government, as well our merchants would be willing to extend a discount of 1/5th to contract holders for a few new cannons and rifles."
"To me such an offer does seem a costly affair." The king said as he scratched his chin.
"We prefer to think of it as investment to insure the continued success of a partner that has been imperilled by unforeseen circumstances."
"What of the potential Infrastructural Retaliation?"
This was the tricky part. "They are on the far side of the world. Similarly they have signed a treaty with the Coldlanders which protects your sovereignty from their aggression. Should they seek war, take comfort in the the fact that four Drow states stand between you and them." The fact that such a war would be a bloody one even with the new Ironclads sailing out of Dark Elven drydocks was not worth mentioning.
"I would have to read the proposition for myself, as would some of my senior courtiers. Even so, you have our interest and and baring uncharacteristic duplicity we will be receptive."
"Thank you, your grace." He signalled an aide to present the document for the king's perusal. Whatever the thoughts and intentions of the Committee might be in aiding Higato, undermining the far eastern slave trade was an obvious goal for them. Already some crews (including those from Tahajemit as well as Ilhong and Ztuhtrim) had faced Higatoan warriors with Coldlander rifles which had raised casualties and there had been a spike of repulsed expeditions and lost ships over the last year. A situation which could only get worse if left unintended. About the only only people in the Drow States who'd profit from that were Lady Valcas and the rest of the damned fools who supported that Fidelium nonsense. This needed to be nipped in the bud. A single massive raid that would sweep away several villages or a town or two would cost Higato and hinder their development, as would follow ups to be launched over the next two months. His colleagues in Ilhong and Ztuhrim were making similar offers to their monarchs and in by what he'd read they were receptive.
In of itself this would not be a mortal blow, but it was a low cost low risk measure which at the very least would buy them time.
Summer Solstice was a holiday in Infrastructure, not as weighty as New Years' Day, Unification Day, Worker's Day or the Bounty Festival but still generally a pleasant affair. Many factories offered a day off and there was usually music, dancing, flyting contests and other competitions and so forth. Around the Urblaast/Loriv construction zone for 47 IA, things were ramped up. Factories offered their employees and families a substantial feast, Hygienic Beer was distributed in the streets along with Kvas, tea and pastries, a parade was organized, mechanical rides were set up and several big shows were organized. There were even a few foreign ambassadors in the area, who were well wined and dined in their Hotels even though they wondered why they had been brought out here.
Most of these activities were pre-planned and organized ahead of time with posters set up. Even so, there were also fliers distributed on the day itself which simply announced that in Smedth District there would be a big announcement at 21:00. As the hour approached about twenty three thousand people would approach a small but well secured stage. People wondered what it could be about, until 21:00 came and arriving in an SL-47 Lorry arrived Supernova, who took to the platform with only the shining of spotlights and a brief fanfare by a marching band. The area was secure and cameras (including both film Cameras and a smaller Fabricated unit) were set up to document this historic moment for general distribution.
"Citizens of Infrastructure." She said. Her voice amplified by loudspeakers and relayed by Radio. "On this fine Solstice, have you been having a good time?"
There was general cheering. Supernova grinned at this, finding their exultation stimulating.
"Very Good." She said as the roar faded. "For at this Midyear we have much to celebrate. A week ago, ULAF has completed it's sixth thousand Lorry. Fifty two new Apartment Buildings have been completed, along with Eight new Schools, Twelve daycare centres and other such facilities. Three new Trolley routes are in operation, as has a new hospital and ground has been broken on a new Engineering Academy. This Month a new Bread Factory was completed. But while all of this is all worthy of commendation, I have not come here to simply rattle off construction figures and statistics."
"Over the past few years, much has been built here. Much remains to be done in this Zone still and will continue for time to come. Even so, the preliminary goal of an automotive assembly line has been here achieved." The was another round of applause. "And with that, we can announce the true function of this venture. Many have believed that what has been built here was simply a Duotown, an overgrown Monotown built merely to accommodate and support the workforce of the Urblaast/Loriv Steelworks and the Urblaast Loriv Automobile Factories. An impression which we lightly encouraged and this was an objective, but one which falls short of our purpose here."
"Today we celibate not only the longest day of the year, but the creation of something the world has never seen before and it's formal creation. A City built from it's foundations up by Industrial means with homes, shops, workplaces and recreational spaces built with technological convenience first and foremost. Where transport is easy, waste is dealt with efficiently and everyone has access to Medical Care, Artwork and Entertainment. Homes warm in winter and green in summer. A City that shall show the wonders of the Great Machine, a beacon who's brilliance shall show the world the way to a glorious new technological age."
"Citizens of Infrastructure. Welcome...to the Radiant City!"
With that, banners were unfurled and the bands struck up. There was cheering in the crowd and throughout the Radiant City it echoed.
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Infrastructure: SL-47 Lorry
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More of a Zor than You
The SL-47 Lorry when it was first introduced was not the greatest road going vehicle that Infrastructure had ever built. Others were larger, more powerful and faster. Nor was it on the cutting edge. It was an internal combustion powered vehicle, but the first IC vehicles were prototyped in 40 IA and entered production in 42 IA. Several other IC vehicles had systems in place which were absent on the SL-47. Despite (or in some cases because of) this, the SL-47 would be one of the most important vehicles in Infrastructural history.
Previous Infrastructural Road Vehicles were made one by one in workshops, with individual vehicles in the same series following the same basic pattern often having notable differences as they were built from the ground up. In contrast the SL-47 was designed from the ground up for assembly line mass production. The basic design of the SL-47 was shaped by several prototypes and general experience with the first run of IC vehicles through the early forties, with plans and efforts for it's creation (or at least something to it's effect) going back well before that, though they were delayed by the Escort War. To that end the SL-47 was simple and robust, both to streamline production and make it easy to repair, though it did require a fair deal of maintenance.
Technically the SL-47 had a 22kW four cylinder inline engine, with a four speed manual transmission and had a top speed of 50kph. It's standard driver's cabin that could provide seating for two. In it's standard configuration it weighed 1,750 kg empty and had a wooden bed which could carry up to 1,200 kg of cargo. However the general platform was fairly versatile and could be put to a variety of tasks. Many would not have cabs installed and would be sent to Dalatyr or Docklands to be fitted out to serve various roles. Limited production began at the end of 46 IA, rising to an average of 60 units per day in 47 IA and would rise further in years to come.
Tahajemitan Royal Guard
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It is from the Warrior Class that the Royal Guard is draw. Eight hundred men strong at full strength, Royal Guard candidates must go through their own set of more demanding trials which are designed to not only test their skills at arms and courage, but to eliminate all but the best and most determined. They are skilled with bow, dao swords, flame glaives (which are enchanted so they can heat up to better cleave armor and steel), bucklers, knives, muskets and cannons and can fight on foot, horseback, elephant back and on the deck of ships. They guard the Palace Complex and royal estates of the king, but on several occasions in the last century they've been send out to war and have generally performed admirably.
In the Palace Complex of Tahajemit, only members of the Royal Guard and the king himself may bare weapons, usually a dao and a flame glaive. Service in the Royal Guard is usually for a few years and Royal Guard and have comfortable barracks, good rations and solid pay. It also can be useful for cultivating political connections and attaining command in the army. The only thing unusual is that Royal Guards are required to take a contraceptive potion every month to protect the line of succession.
Galthirith Ironclad Throlixreth
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Since the Rifle Wars Noljas had been at the forefront of technological modernization in Galthirith, which would also be one of the most successful group to utilize Infrastructural and Infrastructure-derived technologies. However they would face homegrown competition, most prominently from House Narxath. Like House Noljas, House Narxath is a great house which had been involved in metallurgy. As they owned several productive iron and coal mines, some basic smelting operations had been in operation for centuries and this would gradually be cultivated and refined, especially after the introduction of cannons. They also did dabble in shipbuilding, but mostly they left that business to their vassals.
Noljas and Narxath had been rivals for centuries, both jockeying for position politically and economically. Narxath does own more land in Galthrith total and a larger slave workforce. Even so, for the past couple centuries Noljas has waxed while Narxath has waned. There are multiple reasons including misfortune business policies (they were one of the two main creditors of House Jalnoth before their exodus), several military losses, reticence about developing a presence in Galthirith's colonies, misfortune in their colonial developments a decent chunk of which could be traced to attempts to force House Jalnoth to repay their loans with ruinous interest (which ultimately cost them nearly a hundred warriors, a good chunk of their colonial assets burned and earned them the ire of Valnothron's High Lords), several major vassals breaking away and military losses against Allergon and the High Kingdom while House Noljas was the first Great House to get involved in the colonies and was more willing to adapt and adjust. House Noljas began to modernize during the Rifle Wars around 12 IA as it began to produce flintlock rifles and pistols while House Narxath began to modernize in 27 IA with improvements to it's blast furnaces and cannon foundries. Despite the 15 year lead, Narxath still had considerable resources to bear on the project, it profited from the spike in iron prices during the Escort War as well as having backers in Galthirith's High Council which at the very least want to counter-balance House Noljas' rise. As such House Noljas launched their first Ironclad in late 37 IA while House Narxath launched theirs in 41.
In general Narxath tends to go forth the path of least resistance in industrial development. Over twenty years they have hired, acquired and cultivated a pool of engineers and technicians and they do have some some agents operating in Infrastructure, but for the most part they prefer to acquire their tech third hand from other Drow Houses, Venoa, the Allergonian Empire, Dwarfholds, etc than either getting it from the source or doing substantial innovation. Though they did manage to capture an Infrastructural freighter in the last years of the war. Something that works today for 1,000 scimitars is better than something which works better in a year or two for 10,000. This means that in numerous fields they lag behind Noljas, though they can find som exceptions. The Throlixreth (Troll Slayer) is a good example of this.
The seventh Narxath Ironclad, the Throlixreth was built between 44-46 IA as one of their more ambitious projects. In 42 IA Narxath agents managed to obtain schematics for the turret mechanism for the SVS Ferlando il Vecchio and they wasted no time in replicating it and ironing out the kinks. In other areas however, they were rather conservative. The propulsion system was based off that from a captured Dalatyr class Freighter, the electrical systems were rudementary and used for little more than lighting and it's interior structure was still largely wood with only some iron structural component. When proposed to the High Council and the Galthirith Admiralty two points were stressed: the Turret and the Cost, which was 122,808 Scimitars compared to the 163,254 Scimitars for a Noljas ship in the same size category. Both of these factors were enough to win over contracts for three Throlixreth class Ironclads would be ordered and would be delivered between 46 and 48 IA, even though they were coal fired and complicating the transition to an oil-fired fleet. The resulting ship was still capable by the standards of 40's non-Infrastructural Ironclads and if did lag behind the standards of Valcas or Noljas it was ahead of some it's contemporaries.
Despite this, House Noljas did gain some minor wins in that House Narxath was unable to produce an adequate heavy breachloading cannons for the turret forcing them to use Noljas guns and the specifics of the Narxath turret mechanism was used by House Noljas to push the creation of a set of patent codes. And while they would pay liscencing fees on several ships outfitted with Narxath turrets ultimately Noljas profited more from this.
- Length: 64.36 meters
- Width: 10.72 meters
- Displacement: 3,982 tonnes
- Crew: 20 Drow officers, 60 Drow Crew, 120 slave sailors
- Primary Armament: Two Noljas 120-vaul (76.7kg) rifled breachloading cannons in a frontal turret, maximum range 5,000 meters
- Secondary Armament: Eighteen Narxath 50-vaul (29.5kg) rifled breachloading cannons (sixteen broadside, two aft), maximum range 3,500 meters
- Armor: 174.3mm belt, 63.1mm bulkheads. wrought iron
- Propulsion: Six boilers powering two triple expansion steam engines, 2,364kw total power. Three masts for sails.
- Top Speed: 28kph
- Range: 5,500km under engine power
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Unused Lorry designs
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More of a Zor than You
As for some Trivia, the final SL-47 Lorry is inspired by two vehicles: the Renault NN and the AMO F-15.
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Flag of Torion
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More of a Zor than You
The Flag of the Kingdom of Torion. It was introduced in 425 BIA by the emergent kingdom as the ascendant Princiality of Tuliso managed to absorb three of it's main rivals (one through conquest and two through unions of marriage) and declared itself to be the Kingdom of Torion. While the monarch would retain the heraldic iconography of the armoured bull of House Lavransicos, as would royal institutions, the Flag deliberately avoided such iconography to gain legitimacy. Instead it is based on stone carvings commons to ruins in what's now the heartland of the Kingdom dating back more than 4,000 years to the time of the Student Men from a culture which (going by Dwarven and High Elven records) was famed for their wine, mosaics and elite shock infantry. Rendered in Gold and Purple, this banner helped build a common cause and invoked a powerful romantic image which aided the Kingdom in it's expansion.
Infrastructural Type-4P Pistol
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After the conclusion of the Escort War the priority of military production fell. Much of the military was demobilized and there was a glut of equipment. Armaments factories were retooled and converted to civilian and industrial production or in some cases shut down. What remained in operation was the technological Vanguard, the most up-to-date factories with an emphasis on quality over quantity. Between 37 and 42 IA, the Type-4R rifle replaced the Type-3R/b as the army's main service rifle while other projects were perused. In 45 IA a plan was put into motion for the next generation of Infrastructural sidearms, with production beginning in 46 IA. It's product was the Type-4P Semiautomatic Pistol.
Chambered to 10x20mm pelleted nitrocellulose ammunition, the Type-4P feeds from a detachable 8 round box magazine and weighs 1.05 kilograms with a recoil spring based Blowback operation. One cocks it by pulling the nob on the back. It has an effective range of 50 meters, mostly due to ergonomic considerations, though it its designed with accuracy as a primary concern. Production began in Dalatyr in low volumes at an average rate of 12 units per day. About 90% of the output went to the army and navy, though a few of the new guns were diverted elsewhere.
The image is actually fairly old, though I did give it a bit of a touch up
Chapter Thirty Nine
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(Noldolia, Kingdom of Torion, Summer 47 IA)
Seven weeks after the official foundation of The Radiant City a package was delivered to the the Torionese port city of Noldolia. It required a modified Progress class freighter to deliver and a pair of heavy duty cranes to unload at a special dock. Special care was made to lower three massive 102 tonne steel objects down safely onto a set of rails laid in large part for such deliveries, as well a smaller simpler companion. After a set of inspections by a crew of Infrastructural Ministry of Transportation mechanics and technicians followed by a few Torionese artificers and engineers the tenders were filled with coal and water and attached to their engines, which were fired up for the first time. One by one they chugged along a short course at a modest 10kph for a brief spell over the rest of the day before being sent off to a depot. Three days latter after some more inspection on a warm morning they would be brought out for a special ceremony.
Bureaucrat Grade-5 Nikita Gamow watched as the locomotive made it's way down the railway and came to a smooth stop from an elevated stage on a chair with a small box on his lap. He'd been stationed here for the past seven years and unlike his siblings he was not much much of a trainspotter, but he knew they were Dalatyr Locomotive Factory class G6 general purpose units from his reports. They were painted gold with purple trimming: a scheme who's primary colour made him think of the Ministry of Transportation's construction and maintenance fleet back home, though those thoughts would be impolite to voice. The real reason for the scheme was obvious in the fluttering Torionese flags and banners fluttering in the breeze as a crowd stirred about. He wished this could be done in Noldolia Station, the blueprints and sketches were beautiful. But that was still under construction, so an outdoor ceremony would have to do even as the temperatures gradually rose in the summer sun.
To his relief, trumpets announced the arrival of Marquess Federico de Catelon, 27th Lord of Noldolia and and a few members of his court. He gave a speech which was flowery in it's prose but short and to the point. The same could not be said about Magister* de Viguela who follow it up with a ten minute sermon on the Gods of the Forge, the gifts of wisdom they have bequeathed to us mere mortals and the responsibility to use them wisely with allusions to several of his preferred theologians. He'd expected it, as did the Marquess and fellow counsellors who had similar opinions of the old windbag.
Regardless once that was done, his part of the ceremony was fairly simple. He got to his feet, walked to the Marquis and was announced with fanfare. He approached to city-lord and gave a respectful bow. "Marquess de Catelon." He said politely, though his Torionese elocution was still far from perfect. "On behalf of the Central Committee of Infrastructure, it is my honour to transfer ownership of three locomotives to the Royal Torionese Railway. The EL-01 Amicus, EL-02 Fraternis and EL-03 Societas." He opened the box and made a show of handing over three golden keys, each one bearing the name of the locomotives delivered.
"On behalf of my King, it is my pleasure to accept." He offered a hand to the Bureaucrat and shook as a photograph was taken. With this done there was applause from the crowd.
"Your Lordship. May I offer you a tour?" Nikita asked as the two of them left the stage.
"I'd be delighted." The Marquess replied. There was little doubt he would accept. It was part of the pageantry of the day. Soon enough they were on the gravel nearby the vehicle along with Engineer Skirbekov.
"You see your Lordship, the class G6 locomotive is what we call a 2-8-2, two unpowered leading wheels, four powered wheels hooked up to the pistons in the midddle and two unpowered trailing wheels in the back." He continued from there at a steady pace, the speech well practice but still pretty surface level. Skirbekov could answer any technical questions. It was as much for the crowd as for the Marquess in any case.
In general, early Torionese railway development had been hard and slow. By 43 IA there were three disconnected short lines in operation operated by two dwarf-holds and the Tivro Foundry, each less than 40km long and set to it's own gauge, with two more under construction. It came as something of a suprise when the Infrastructural Embassy offered King Ailtor II proposal to build and outfit a 122km line for the Crown from Noldolia to Bromos in exchange for 800,000 Trono and a 10% share of it's dividends for 25 years. The King agreed and after surveying and deal-making with local nobles work proper began early in 45 IA, aided by the arrival of three surplus Class-6 Locomotives. The line was finished in the spring of 46 IA and shortly afterwards additional contracts would be secured for additional main lines, branch lines and extensions, along with the rolling stock. In praticular, a contract to the capital city Tuliso was enough to get King Ailtor to splurge, spending 180,000 Trono on a set of ten new locomotives for express service and to pull the Royal Train. Top of the line prime movers that were powerful, fast, efficient and prestigious.
Parlially this program of rail development was done to pay off the debts accrued during to the Escort War. Partially this was to keep a major source of oil on friendly terms. But a factor often overlooked in this policy of rail development lay in the tracks themselves, or rather between them. The Kingdom of Torion would have one of the best rail networks on the planet, but one set to a Gauge of 1.5 meters. The King would continue to commission additional locomotives for the Royal Torionese Railway, it would remain a market for surplus Infrastructural rolling stock and their spare parts and it would provide a useful lever in decades to come.
*A regional official in the Order of Keepers, managing Order affairs from a Temple-Archive.
(Dalatyr, Summer 47 IA)
The doors to the great hall were thrown open and a trio of axe wielding warriors ran in behind a young woman.
"Going so soon, Tatiana..." the leader boasted with a mocking tone, a grin on his face.
Tatiana's eye's narrowed. "Akim the Axe-Lord. I thought something smelled."
"Strong Men has a strong Musk little bird. One you'll grow to love in time."
"Watch it, one centimetre closer and you'll get a injection of hot lead." Tatiana's head hovered over her holster. "Besides, this town's aint yours anymore. Drop the axes and Major Marikov might show you mercy."
"No no my dear." Akim said with slow relish. "Marikov won't save you now. The Necromancer Nymerg has completed his spell! A thousand skeleton warriors have risen from the Mornfull Mounds and have taken up arms in my name." He raised his axe above his head. "This town is mine and shall stay mine forever and there's nothing your Great Machine can do to stop me! Ahahaha!" His minions laughed with him.
"...and Cut!" A clear voice carried over the set. With command the cameramen ceased cranking and the warriors, 'Akim' and 'Tatiana' relaxed.
"How was this take Sergei?" Actress Irina Verisleva asked with a bit of impatience, this was the sixth shoot for this scene and there were still thirty one more to do.
"I think that one's a keeper." Director Sergei Zhelezivik replied. "We'll shoot the escape scene after lunch."
"Not a moment to soon." Said Pawel Pysanka said as he handed his shield and paper mache skull-axe to a stagehand. "Thought we'd be on this all day."
"Don't blame me." Irina said in a light but weary way as she made her way to the Lunch Table for a sandwich and a cup of tea. "Or Igor, Ilya or yourself. Blame that damn fool manning the microphone pole."
"Don't be too hard on him." Pawel said calmy. "He's still learning, even if he could and should be doing so faster."
"Yeah." Snorted Ilya. In the distance, the Grip in question grumbled.
Night of the Necromancer was Infrastructure's third film with sound shot entirely without the aide of Fabricated equipment. A 22 minute long adventure set in the Wars of Unification. Even without the sound, it was still an ambitious production being three times longer than the average one-reel short that had been playing in fairs and cinemas for the past nine years and would be ready with the onset of winter. Operating mostly out of a couple old Armoury warehouses (leaving aside out-of-studio shoots) and with only about 220 employees in total from actors to caterers the Infrastructural Film Industry was in the summer of 47 IA was at this stage still nascent and it's works had been dismissed by foreigners as (in the words of Venoan merchant and theatre aficionado Ettori Vinchusci in 46 IA) as being 'a novel magic lantern show used to display eerily silent village fair fluff'. Even so, it's early products were never the less popular and the Ministry of Communications had big plans for this operation going forward.
(The Radiant City, Late Summer 47 IA)
On a cool morning a Ministry of Distribution SL-47 with an enclosed back made it's way down the streets of The Radiant City. There was not a lot of traffic yet, which was probably for the best. It accelerated quickly, stopped suddenly, swayed a bit and was a bit jerky in it's turns. Never the less the van came to a safe stop in Ivonova District and from it a young man and woman disembarked.
"Alright Sasha. How bad was that?" The man said reluctantly as he got to his feet.
Sasha put on grin as she made her way back. "Kirill you didn't miss any stop signs or lights or hit anything, even if you did park on the wrong side of the road. Still you still passed your road test, everything else is practice." She said as she unlocked the back of the van. "And the Bread's fine."
"Well I hope so, for everyone's sake." Kirill said as he took out a couple of trays, Sasha followed behind him. As he went he inhaled through his nose. "And that's a beautiful smell."
"Just don't drool on the loafs." Sasha jibed. Soon they'd walked into a MoD grocery store and dropped off their farinaceous cargo to the shopkeeper. They made ten more trips before having him sign off for the delivery. That done, the two got back into the van and made their way off again. This time at a slower pace.
Over the last nine months, ULAF had produced more than 12,000 SL-47s either as lorries and chassis for special fitting. More than all the the previous Infrastructural lorries, omnibuses, tractors, bulldozers, battlesteamers and other free-range steam and IC vehicles. Deploying such a fleet had massive complications in of itself, none the least of which was training of personnel, ranging from mechanics to drivers. Training programs were in place to get people up to speed, but novice drivers needed experienced drivers to learn the ropes. Early on a lot of which happened in and around The Radiant City itself for reasons both practical and propagandist, even though there were accidents. To minimize this, there were people like Sasha Plotnik. She'd been a MoD driver for the last five years and a big part of her job nowadays was helping newbies through the first few weeks on the job and nip bad habits in the bud. Kirill was not the worst she dealt with, but there was still massive room for improvement especially as more and more lorries and vans were finding their way onto the road.
(Daagsgrad, Autumn 47 IA)
On a cool night the Daagsgrad drydocks was full of sound and activity. There was the familiar ringing of metal, winding of cranes and background chatter of yard-hands hard at work. Though in three of them the ringing of hammers was now much diminished, as was the smell of coalsmoke from rivet buckets. In it's place there was the smell of molten steel and crackling sound of high temperature jets of fire and flying sparks. As she made her inspection Bureaucrat Grade-4 Yuna Igorova took note of another addition, the doubled up rubber pipes which snaked their way across the unfinished hull. These tubes lead from high pressure tanks to torches wielded by masked workers who used them to weld hull plates, bulkheads, girders and other elements together. Their speed was uneven, with some being a bit hesitant with regular stops, but even so it was quicker than riveting.
Oxy-acetylene welding was still a new thing, having only been introduced to Daagsgrad shipyards last Febuary and she'd seen enough reports of burns to know that they had their downsides. Training hundreds of workers in their use was a complicated affair in of itself. Even so, it was heartening to see the new tools put to good use. This would be the forth proper ship that the Daagsgrad shipyards built with welded construction. Beforehand they'd built a Hubtown class freighter as a dry run and that had preformed admirably in it's sea trials and another launched a week ago was doing just fine. This was a more ambitious program.
Like most people, she'd read about The Radiant City and it's factories in the newspapers. Similarly the Shipyard received a couple Lorries over the last five months. Their had been a lot of talk about them, a lot of which was enthusiastic. She agreed that it was a great accomplishment and saw the potential that this had. On the other hand, she'd felt a bit of envy and a bit more longing. Two decades ago, building the first wave of metal hulled steamship was the big glamorous project. During the Escort War naval construction was propagandized as the cutting edge against the Drow Slavers. Of course, both of these pushes involved a lot of hard work and long hours and undoubtedly there were plenty of weary workers and beleaguered bureaucrats involved in ULAF's construction and operation. In twenty years something would be the new big thing that everyone was talking about. Especially since they were doing some great new work here and now.
All those Lorries burned gasoline which was made from Petrolium. Petrolium came from the Colony or from foreign sources like Torion. Either way, it needed to be shipped in using Bottle or Cask class Tankers, which her people had built. Now they could build them quicker and cheaper than before with welding. But it was not just freighters and tankers that were to be used here. While the newspapers and radio went on about the new Lorries and recruitment drives for what would become The Radiant City several orders were quietly given to the Shipyards of Daagsgrad and Borogskov: new warships.
Since the end of the Escort War Daagsgrad had built a single slightly enlarged Destroyer and broke up six other warships. It was sad to see ships they'd built be taken apart for scrap iron, leaving aside that the Dark Elves were still out there. She'd read the memos about the budget, but it still seemed to be such a waste. Now finally they received orders for a new generation of Destroyers and Hunters. They would not have to work at the breakneck pace of wartime production, but with new tools such as Acetylene Torches they could build better and strong than ever before. Ships that would make those slaving bastards think twice before causing trouble in Infrastructure again so others would not have to go through what she did when she lost Inna.
She stopped by a set of workers hard at work on a section of hull and the progress they were making, taking note of everything. She was no Engineer, but she knew enough to see that things were proceeding reasonably smoothly. "Very Good" she said softly. Part of her chided her for this. After all you did not want to distract people as they were working with tools that could melt steel. Fortunately they kept to their job. She continued on her course.
(Daagsgrad, Autumn 47 IA)
Daagsgrad autumns had short days and were as a rule cool and foggy. Despite the weather the economic activities of the city continued. People went about buying and selling, did errands, visiting friends, family and lovers, doing business, went on strolls or hung out. In the weather a bearded man in a dark wool coat, scarf and a soft grey hat was nothing to comment on by casual inspection. If one monitored his course, they'd note that it was somewhat erratic, turning at corners and looping back a couple of times through the a collection of winding alleys. But sometimes people liked to take the roads less travelled and wander a bit. The buildings in this area were among the first the Infrastructurals had built and had seem some serious damage during the siege and rebellion. Even so, they did have a lot of odd nooks and crannies for those who did not want to be seen.
After passing a corner, the man stood still and checked what before and after him. He checked a pocket watch for the time and waited for six minutes. Then a figure rounded a corner and came out of the mist. A man with a moustache and a travel bag.
"Excuse me, do you know a good bar around here?" The Newcomer challenged in a familiar voice.
"I'd recommend Urlan's. It's not far." This, in a very private and transient lexicon, meant that he was not under duress and he had something substantial to talk about.
"Well could you tell me the way?" The newcomer replied.
"Certainly." The two of them approached in the gloom. As the man did so, he took off his hat, flipped it over and turned it inside out, revealing a darker interior before replacing it on his head.
"So...what do you have?" Salt said as he peeled off the moustache and slipped it up his sleeve. To the bearded man in the hat he was known only as Salt.
"Only this." The breaded man reached into his coat and produced a pipe mechanism. "One of the welding torches."
"May I?" Salt said expectantly. The first man offered the item to the newcomer who inspected it carefully. "Intriguing, if a bit simple."
"As I told you they're basically like an oil lamp, albeit a high pressure one burning gases."
"I remember. Just a comparison against general expectations of Infrastructural Machinery." Salt the item into his bag. "Nor is it a bad thing."
"And my payment? Getting that out of the yard and past the guards was not easy."
"Ten Kilo through the usual channels as agreed." Over the next couple months, his cleaning lady would leave an envelope behind his nightstand after some of her visits. Five envelopes in total with two thousand credits each, nearly double his annual salary. "We'd offer another ten for samples of that new gas, 'acetylene' I believe it's called?"
"What about oxygen?"
"That my superiors know about." That was all the information Salt had received on oxygen and all he cared to know about it. Operational security was paramount.
"They keep it in these tanks. High pressure things, the smallest of which weigh more than 20 kilos. You can't just keep them hidden in your jacket."
"Very well. My superiors shall work on the means going forward. This has been most productive. Good day." With that, Salt made his way forward and continued through the winding alleys. The bearded man shook his head and eventually made his way home.
Magnus Norsisleb was not a fighter. This was not say that he could not fight if he had to, but he believed firmly that the best way to win a fight was, if possible, avoid it. Which did not mean that he did not have opinions. When the Dark Elves landed, he'd got train tickets to Borogskov for himself, his wife and two kids and he made plans to flee further. When he'd read about the damn fool uprising, he was furious. A bunch of idiots deluded themselves into thinking that the old slavemongers were anything other than petty spiteful parasites tearing up his city because they figured they could fill their shoes and reign atop the rubble pile. Not that he loved Infrastructure, seeing it as a blunt self-righteous ravening beast for all it's clever toys. An attitude which persisted even after he got a job in the shipyards after the siege. To Magnus what mattered in this world was himself, family and friends.
Six years ago he had some money troubles from some misplaced bets. Then he'd met Salt who gave him an offer: 750 credits for some photographs of some of the new ships under construction, enough to cover his debts with a bit left over himself. He'd agreed, did the job and resolved an embarrassing situation without his employer or wife knowing. Over the next few years he'd done more of the same. He'd invested some and spent the rest and generally lived better than his neighbours. The welding torch was the first thing he'd stolen from the shipyards besides old paperwork, but as far as he could see there were plenty of the things and there was probably a factory in Dalatyr or that Radiant City making hundreds of them a day.
As for Salt, he knew that he was working for another power who wanted Infrastructural shipbuilding secrets and left it at that. Salt did not say more and Magnus did not pry. It was a not a chatty relationship. Shortly after their parting, Salt called up his other connections and the welding torch and a bundle of miscellaneous reports began a circuitous but secure journey to the research workshops of House Valcas.
(Administrative District, Daagsgrad, Autumn 47 IA)
Papers rustled, typewriters clicked and rang, pencils scribbled, the radiators occasionally thumped and there was a faint murmur of conversation. This was the constant background noise for Maja Tomenko's office as she poured over her usual pile of paperwork. In general these were banal: copies of employee timekeeping records and receiving records made up the bulk of it. She was more interested in the marginalia that had been added. Most of which pointed out irregularities in accounting or anomalies, with most of them being fairly mundane. Only in the context of various written procurement reports and Enforcement inquiries could they be parsed out, and even then it was imperfect. Fairly regularly, she scribbled an addendum onto an older note relating to a potential lead which could either strengthen, weaken or invalidate it. At the end of the day, she'd file her notes and submit a list of the strongest leads to her staff for future investigation.
"Inspector Tomenko?" A voice said, drawing her out of her little world.
"Hey Ulf." She turned to face him with a grin. "Good news or bad?"
"That's depends on your perspective, ma'am." Ulf said formally with a folder in hand. "But we have managed to find a hard connection between Daisy, Rose and Bluebell."
"And what of the rest of the bouquet?" She'd been the one to suggest floral code-names for a number of suspects.
"Lily, Tulip, Pansy, Daffodil, Marigold, Orchid and Primrose are not involved with this connection so far as we can tell."
"Oh Poot." She spat the mock profanity. "Still it makes sense, they have been pretty smart about this so far. May I?"
"Of course." Ulf said as he handed the folder over.
"Thank you." Maja said sweetly as she received it and opened it up. In short, it contained reports on one Roskara Shelepov, a fifty three year old cleaning lady who fairly regularly worked for subjects Daisy, Rose and Bluebell, along with a few other clients. Normally she'd charged 1.2 credits an hour, pretty much the going rate for basic domestic cleaning services. Such an income was modest, but Even so she'd owned a fairly substantial house in the Southeastern Dev-Zone. She apparently had some investments in rental properties and dividends would cover some of the discrepancies, but that begged the question as to where she got the capital. Her family was not rich, especially given her father's debts and her brother had been a rebel who died in the Battle of Daagsgrad. This was not unusual in of itself and she had a solid alibi for her ignorance of that plot given that the core Rebels were almost exclusively male and she'd spent the siege in a friends' basement well away from the fighting. But that did not rule out anti-Infrastructural sympathies.
Over the last four decades, workshops to the west had tried with varying degrees of success to make duplicates and derivatives of Infrastructural weaponry, tools and technology. You could understand the desire and their were some benefits to it, even though they got much of the raw info to do so through traitors, abductors, extortionists and thieves to try to prop up their own faltering feudal (or worse) Societal Machinery. Their attempts at probing the Coldlands for their secrets ranged from comedically incompetent to those both well funded and fiendishly subtle. Local Enforcement and the IBME could and would catch individuals engaged in industrial espionage, but against the more serious ventures and State level actors you needed something more. The pertinent data was out there if you knew where to look and how to find it. Many of her colleagues were involved with informants or interrogation, but Maja mostly worked with paperwork and accounting finding it just as productive.
Few people who knew her as a child would think that Maja would take up her career. The petite daughter of a bakery manager and a secretary who alternated between shy and bubbly. Her interest in jigsaws and crosswords were the earliest signs of this, as was a fondness for cards. She attended Administrative Prep, but she did not go down the Bureaucratic path or settle into a cozy clerk's posting. Instead she signed up for the Internal Monitoring Directorate, which was definitely a demanding job with a lot of responsibilities, but the puzzles it offered were formidable indeed. And the professional and financial activities of Ms Shelepov was a piece around which others would fall into place.
(Daagsgrad, Autumn 47 IA)
On a simple bed in a small bed above a Daagsgrad linen shop there slept a man who'd for the last eight years had used seven different names, changing them as easily as other people changed socks. None of them were the name his parents gave, a cherished relic he kept lodged in his memory. He had a couple for day-to-day living, one he used when he went out looking for entertainment and a couple he used for work. His work involved erratic hours and it was not unusual for him to spend the day tucked beneath it's sheets, as he did on a cool afternoon until he was rudely and abruptly roused by frantic activity.
"Get up! Now!" One of his roommates said in Allergonian as he shook his shoulder. The sleeper opened his eyes. "A Lorry pulled up full of Mobes* and they're coming this way."
"Shit. SHIT!" The Sleeper said as he peeled himself out the sheets. "Bar the door, burn what you can and get moving."
"Already being done, Bread's on the Door." The Roommate had a pile of folios and notes in his right arm and proceeded to stuff them into the small iron stove as fast as he could, as well as having a revolver in his pocket. How much use that would be was not worth dwelling on.
The Sleeper threw on a pair of pants, shoes, jacket, a cone shaped hat and collected his emergency pack in a few short seconds. It was a small leather folio with five hundred credits, eight marks, some forged documents for a yet-unused alias, a pair of spectacles and a false beard and a small booklet of contacts. As soon as he was done there was hammering on the Door.
"Infrastructural Bureau of Mobilized Enforcement!" A muffled cry came from the doorway. "We have a Search Warrant! Open up in the Name of the Law!"
"Stay safe." He said just before he slipped out a window, never expecting to see any of his three fellow lodgers again. Already Nails had left, hopefully Bread and Candle could make their escape. He clambered over the rooftops, keeping crouched as he did so for three buildings before descending to the ground by a cast iron pipe and a fire escape. He thought he heard gunfire, though no challenges or threats. He threaded his way through and prepared to be just another pedestrian. With a little care he'd get out of the city and then either get to another Safehouse for a few months and go to ground or get out of the country.
Then to his shock and horror two uniformed figures came out to meet him. One was a lean Mobe Corporal carrying a shotgun and a truncheon. The other was a petite woman with girlish pair of ponytails, who was far more frightening. She raised a gloved finger.
"Hold it there." She said with a slight tinge of giddiness "You look a lot like someone I was looking for."
"Who would that be, Enforcer?" He said trying to give just the right amount of concern that an innocent bystander would given when confronted by Enforcement on a warpath.
"Don't know his name, silly fellow goes by Salt. Also there's no way out of that alley, at least horizontally."
Salt tensed to make a dash. This was beyond bad and he did not even have a knife.
"Now now." She said as she raised a gloved finger and drew a sleek slim pistol. "We're just going to have a little chat with you and your friends. The Corporal's will just help you get back to our office." The Mobe advanced on him quickly, grabbed him before he could bolt and in a few quick motions had Salt in handcuffs.
In the end they'd collected three of four members of this cell alive, the forth was killed in a shoot out. An Junior-Enforcer did suffer a flesh wound to the leg, but by all accounts he'd make a full recovery. For the last few days she'd fretted about this outing. She did have combat training and the Mobes were good at what they did but even so most of her work was done behind a desk. A certain degree of field-work was required of Internal Monitoring Directorate officers, though most of that was fairly low key stuff following up on leads, working with contacts and interviews with figures. This was a raid against a key node in a well funded Industrial espionage ring which was suspected of having some serious firepower and apparently did have a shotgun and two revolvers. A lot could have gone wrong even with prep. Even so, it was her case and Commissioner Vrubel felt that she should personally oversee one of the day's three raids. Everything went smoothly and she was glad of that, even though she hoped to never repeat it.
The next few weeks would be busy for Maja as interrogation and written documentation brought in a flood of new information. This lead to more arrests and by extension more info to process. Soon enough, the IBME and IMD had rolled up most of Valcas' assets around the The Yards as well as some of a few other operations. A few of their agents (mostly human Proxies) went to ground or otherwise escaped, but their operations would take years to rebuild. As for Salt and his surviving colleagues, they would be put to productive use as Detentional Labourers in the Petrolium Colony.
*Slang term for the IBME.
(Serene Republic of Venoa, Late Autumn 47 IA)
A pen ran over parchment leaving behind a neat signature, punctuated with a final strike. The documented was rotated 180 degrees on a desktop and for a moment inspected, just for a final conformation and an official stamp.
"And with that the last consignment has been officially received Enlightened Bureaucrat." Vintenzio Di'Hanseti said "And I must say that this comes as a relief to both of us given bond obligations."
"Indeed". Lena Leskov (Bureaucrat Level 5) said as she got to her feet. "On behalf of the Great Machine i'm glad that this has been to our mutual benefit."
"You are too kind. Still it has been a pleasure doing business with your government." Vintenzio extended his hands
"Agreed." She said as she shook the bankers hand.
"And if your Great Machine has any further needs of our services, we'd be glad to provide them. Until then, farewell." He said as he left her office in a good mood. The arrival of another thirty two thousand Lyra to his vaults would always put a banker in a good mood even if it meant the cessation of interest a bit earlier than he expected. Even so, his Bank had profited immensely over the past decade off of Infrastructural war debt both directly by payments and by bond issues on that interest.
Before the Escort War he'd known that Infrastructural imports were highly profitable, things such as phonographs were in high demand and commanded impressive prices. During the war they upped their export of arms; and after that they made a big show in selling Ironclad and by selling Roadsteamers to prominent Patricians. Even so, the area where the Coldlanders had made their most substantial impact was grain with a staggering increase in volume. Apparently it had to do with trains, which unlike oxen did not eat grain as they travelled. As the Coldlanders expanded their railways more of their Coops could sell on the international market. This had upset some of the big landholding patricians, but on the other hand it had lowered the price of bread in the city and the baker's guild was happy. Either way, it was indicative on where to invest. In the Serene Republic alone there were now more than a hundred firms that had invested in mechanization ranging from railways to textile mills to factories that made firelighters and more ambitious people with their own plans. To start up new ventures and expand existing ones they'll need loans and Di'Hanseti Bank would (after careful consideration) would be there to provide.
The Dark Elves were the obvious losers in the Escort War, accomplishing none of their strategic objectives while loosing many ships and warriors and paying an indemnity to end the conflict. However Infrastructure did not really benefit from victory: it was costly, set back their plans, accelerated their enemy's industrial development and they gained very little from it. The biggest winner of the Escort War was Venoa, who lost nothing and gained a substantial injection of Capital to ram into their own development.
(Southeastern Continent, Late Autumn 47 IA)
On a warm morning in Velnariath a train rolled across the red landscape past a field of Vyankaillin gathering the day's sunlight. In most respects it was a fairly modest affair set to a narrow gauge* with twenty small ore wagons that were pulled along at a modest 27 kph by a small 0-4-2 Valcas-type numbered J-211. Over the last decade, House Valcas had build hundreds of Locomotives for various jobs for buyers in Valnothron and beyond and for the most part J-211 was a fairly normal for one of their small mine units. It's marine engine derived piston assembly was a bit of an anachronism nowadays as Valcas' steamworks had stopped putting them on mainline locomotives seven years ago though they still put them on the lighter units. It's cabin was open with just a simple cloth awning for shade, but this was a concession to climate. But the thing that most people noticed as odd about it was it's lack of a smokestack.
Eventually the vehicle began to slow. As it did so it's Drow operator let out a sigh, he'd hoped that he'd have enough power left to make it to his next stop but that was not likely. He'd cut the steam and applied the breaks gradually bringing the train to a complete stop as per protocol. In truth he'd figured that he could do it on the move but the Governor had been firm on not taking risks. Once the vehicle was still, he opened up a set of clamps and extracted a metal cylinder banded with runic steel and full of glass. He set the heavy thing aside as he opened up a small steel box and produced another identical Cylinder save a Green Glow from it's runes. He put the spent cylinder in the box and with care hefted the fresh one into place facing into what would be the Firebox on most locomotives and fiddled with a nob on it's back and it's rear rune ring to engage it. Soon afterwards the steam pressure began to rise again and he was back under way. With a smile on his face, the driver set his vehicle back into motion
Torthirn zi'Valcas had been taken by House Valcas as a ward thirteen years ago. He was sent to the Ironworks and after some basic instruction was tasked with keeping the cannon foundry's boring engines in working order during the Escort War. Soon after he was poached by Weitas ti'Halsath for her locomotive and after two years of that he was shunted overseas to work on the locomotives of the the Zharhys line to help operate the machines he'd built. Then two years ago he'd been transferred again to the far side of the world to man this short line. Eleven miles from the minehead to the colony's Ironworks and back again three to five times a day. Bringing over overseers, food, water, tools, various other supplies and bringing back a vast amount of metal, with drop offs for crews working the solar collectors.
Velnariath was still a rough and tumble mining colony in the desert, but despite that Torthirn liked his job. It was fairly easy but still stimulating, much better than any prospect he had back in Valnothron, especially as there were plans for a proper full sized railway. Beyond that the land had a stark beauty to it and the wildlife was strange and wonderful. A couple months ago he'd met Breijeth, a shopkeeper with a beautiful smile and the right sense of humour who found him handsome. He could see the two of them building a nice house by the river with a couple of domestics to keep it nice and tend to the children while they our out taming this frontier and building a key part in achieving the Divine Destiny of global Drow Domination. More than most, he had firsthand experience of this. Using a six vaul Sun Flask, J-211 could go down the line thrice with a bit to spare before it needed to be swapped out. No need to carry a tender full of coal, nor ash and smut getting everywhere and once they were spent, they could be put back in the Vyankaill for recharging.
He'd heard that the Coldlanders went around the world for Stone Oil that they distilled into fuel, as far as Torthirn was concerned they could keep it.
*Three drow feet, or 93cm
(Tamanota Shoguante, Early Winter 47 IA)
As the sun crept over the the horizon fishermen loaded their boats with nets and other supplies. Potters threw clay on their wheels and began to work it and carpenters carefully began to work wood, the two families of inn keepers prepared a quick breakfasts of tea, rice, grilled fish and preserved vegetables for their guests. Servants cleaned dishes and set laundry out, old women swept up, a couple men helped out a friend replace lost roof tiles, a few peasants peddled firewood, a pair of samurai made their police rounds, other people went about their business at a relaxed pace and children played. In general it was a calm winter morning in the small town of Isuban. It's people treading their well worn paths at a relaxed pace. Not much happened in these towns between market days and festivals. Broadly speaking there was some interest goings on beyond their small island elsewhere in the Shogunate, sailors and merchants could find interested ears in the Sake Houses. Reports of smoke spewing iron ships sailing to Kaniwan bearing clockwork treasures for the Tamanota clan and the Emperor had come their way and some of the Samurai had acquired some rather impressive new firearms but to the people of Isuban that was interesting but not important like the rice harvest or the price of pickled herring. One more fantastic tale with a grain of truth in it that only marginally effected their lives.
Then the bell-tower was wrung with three rapid clangs followed by a short break and the sequence repeating. It could only mean one thing, an attack from the sea. A few men rushed to the town armoury for armour and weapons while most set up barricades as Samurai took command. The two battlements were manned and their eight cannons readied. A rider dispatched to the fortress for aide as peasants from nearby farmsteads poured in. The people of Isuban had faced raids before and had fought off the last two incursions. Typically the assault could be furious but brief. They would not have the numbers nor the stomach for casualties for a sustained siege especially when reinforcements arrived. Most likely they'd content themselves with rounding up straggling peasants and other unfortunates to be outside the town walls they could. In general the populace thought that if they could hold out for a few hours, they'd be safe.
Then they saw the force coming their way. Not a trio of ships, but a dozen. Worse still was their armament. At long range they brought their guns to bear and fired off ragged broadsides into the battlements. Many shots went stray (which could mean anything from landing in the sea or crashing into someone's house) and a good number of them exploded. A couple of cannons returned fire, but soon enough they were silenced. The fleet advanced, dropped anchor off the shore more than forty boats loaded with raiders. The defenders shot at these with what guns they had, but the raiders had more both more faster firing rifles to return fire. They also had swivel guns, which they used against barricades. Firing a half-vaul projectile they could smash through the makeshift barriers, but the raiders were sparing with them. Indiscriminate slaughter ran counter to their purpose.
The landing parties attacked in three groups: one head on and the other two taking the flanks. Hundreds of men disembarked and were soon sallying forth letting out a cacophony of cheers, jeers and individual battle-cries as they went. Some threw grenades, others came in with revolving pistols and swords and most charged with bayonets fixed letting off the odd shot as they went. A few fell or were wounded in their assault, but sheer numbers and firepower were on their side. The west side of the town was the first to fall with the centre holding on for a few more minutes and the west lasting a bit longer. The defenders fell back, but by that point there were already raiders moving through the town and searching for plunder and victims.
One of the invaders advanced through a streets at a quick pace, his Failverth 4255 rifles at the ready and his eyes darting back and forth. Ahead of him he saw a couple of armed men round a corner, he quickly levelled his gun and pulled the trigger. There was the flash, a sudden slam of recoil, the loud crack and a jet of smoke. A second latter he saw that he'd taken down a Samurai with what looked like (and latter turned out to be) a modern Coldland gun.
"Great shoot Arok! AAAARGH!" One Krai Pahyhan said as he ran past with revolver in hand quickly switching to a battlecry. Arok grinned at that as he reloaded to take out some of the armed peasant defenders he had with him. He'd take the rifle as a trophy, but the real prize was to come.
Soon the Tahajemitan raiders had the village under their control with parties scouring the surrounding countryside. Five thousand people were gathered from in and around Isuban and the surrounding village and the selection progress had begun. For the most part they took people between about six and forty, leaving aside the disabled few that were badly wounded and with a handful of older skilled artisans included. The old were seen as depreciated in value and while infants and young children had a lot of life in them they had a high attrition rate at sea. In total, some 2,814 people were loaded up onto the slave ship as well as a fair deal of plunder; from money to food, art, kegs of sake, clocks, porcelain, shrine ornaments, weapons and tools. Anything that looked like it had some value to them that they could was stolen. The armoury was burned and the powder magazines for the guns were blown up. After a few brutal hours the raiders left and headed back south. Between death and abduction, some 3,782 people were lost from Isuban and it's environs that day. More would succumb to their wounds over the new month.
Isuban was one of four towns on the Island of Takijima, part of the Southwestern chain of Higato. On that day, three of them were hit by nearly simultaneous attacks. Well armed and well coordinated, the incursion made off with 9,281 people as well as three trade ships while leaving another 3,405 dead. Nearly an eighth of the total population was gone and a blow which would immiserate the remainder. In total this incursion had taken more Higatoan lives than the minor raids had done in the last four. Worst still, a month latter another island was subject to raid of similar size from Ilong and two month after that a Zturimi fleet laid siege to the western coat of Nanbushu, the main Tamanota islands. Each did similar damage, though a Tamanotan light squadron did manage to take a couple of ships during the last raid and liberated four hundred captives at the price of a lost ship and 150 dead sailors and soldiers.
From the perspective of both the Southeastern Raiders and their Drow backers this venture was a major success. The large-scale raids brought back higher than normal returns with lower losses even before the operation was subsidized. Janilonas' high council got full slave markets, sales for their arms merchants, improved relationships and such a move would keep Higato on the defensive. It would take a bit of time before another set of major raids could be organized, but that meant they could prepare.
Seven weeks after the official foundation of The Radiant City a package was delivered to the the Torionese port city of Noldolia. It required a modified Progress class freighter to deliver and a pair of heavy duty cranes to unload at a special dock. Special care was made to lower three massive 102 tonne steel objects down safely onto a set of rails laid in large part for such deliveries, as well a smaller simpler companion. After a set of inspections by a crew of Infrastructural Ministry of Transportation mechanics and technicians followed by a few Torionese artificers and engineers the tenders were filled with coal and water and attached to their engines, which were fired up for the first time. One by one they chugged along a short course at a modest 10kph for a brief spell over the rest of the day before being sent off to a depot. Three days latter after some more inspection on a warm morning they would be brought out for a special ceremony.
Bureaucrat Grade-5 Nikita Gamow watched as the locomotive made it's way down the railway and came to a smooth stop from an elevated stage on a chair with a small box on his lap. He'd been stationed here for the past seven years and unlike his siblings he was not much much of a trainspotter, but he knew they were Dalatyr Locomotive Factory class G6 general purpose units from his reports. They were painted gold with purple trimming: a scheme who's primary colour made him think of the Ministry of Transportation's construction and maintenance fleet back home, though those thoughts would be impolite to voice. The real reason for the scheme was obvious in the fluttering Torionese flags and banners fluttering in the breeze as a crowd stirred about. He wished this could be done in Noldolia Station, the blueprints and sketches were beautiful. But that was still under construction, so an outdoor ceremony would have to do even as the temperatures gradually rose in the summer sun.
To his relief, trumpets announced the arrival of Marquess Federico de Catelon, 27th Lord of Noldolia and and a few members of his court. He gave a speech which was flowery in it's prose but short and to the point. The same could not be said about Magister* de Viguela who follow it up with a ten minute sermon on the Gods of the Forge, the gifts of wisdom they have bequeathed to us mere mortals and the responsibility to use them wisely with allusions to several of his preferred theologians. He'd expected it, as did the Marquess and fellow counsellors who had similar opinions of the old windbag.
Regardless once that was done, his part of the ceremony was fairly simple. He got to his feet, walked to the Marquis and was announced with fanfare. He approached to city-lord and gave a respectful bow. "Marquess de Catelon." He said politely, though his Torionese elocution was still far from perfect. "On behalf of the Central Committee of Infrastructure, it is my honour to transfer ownership of three locomotives to the Royal Torionese Railway. The EL-01 Amicus, EL-02 Fraternis and EL-03 Societas." He opened the box and made a show of handing over three golden keys, each one bearing the name of the locomotives delivered.
"On behalf of my King, it is my pleasure to accept." He offered a hand to the Bureaucrat and shook as a photograph was taken. With this done there was applause from the crowd.
"Your Lordship. May I offer you a tour?" Nikita asked as the two of them left the stage.
"I'd be delighted." The Marquess replied. There was little doubt he would accept. It was part of the pageantry of the day. Soon enough they were on the gravel nearby the vehicle along with Engineer Skirbekov.
"You see your Lordship, the class G6 locomotive is what we call a 2-8-2, two unpowered leading wheels, four powered wheels hooked up to the pistons in the midddle and two unpowered trailing wheels in the back." He continued from there at a steady pace, the speech well practice but still pretty surface level. Skirbekov could answer any technical questions. It was as much for the crowd as for the Marquess in any case.
In general, early Torionese railway development had been hard and slow. By 43 IA there were three disconnected short lines in operation operated by two dwarf-holds and the Tivro Foundry, each less than 40km long and set to it's own gauge, with two more under construction. It came as something of a suprise when the Infrastructural Embassy offered King Ailtor II proposal to build and outfit a 122km line for the Crown from Noldolia to Bromos in exchange for 800,000 Trono and a 10% share of it's dividends for 25 years. The King agreed and after surveying and deal-making with local nobles work proper began early in 45 IA, aided by the arrival of three surplus Class-6 Locomotives. The line was finished in the spring of 46 IA and shortly afterwards additional contracts would be secured for additional main lines, branch lines and extensions, along with the rolling stock. In praticular, a contract to the capital city Tuliso was enough to get King Ailtor to splurge, spending 180,000 Trono on a set of ten new locomotives for express service and to pull the Royal Train. Top of the line prime movers that were powerful, fast, efficient and prestigious.
Parlially this program of rail development was done to pay off the debts accrued during to the Escort War. Partially this was to keep a major source of oil on friendly terms. But a factor often overlooked in this policy of rail development lay in the tracks themselves, or rather between them. The Kingdom of Torion would have one of the best rail networks on the planet, but one set to a Gauge of 1.5 meters. The King would continue to commission additional locomotives for the Royal Torionese Railway, it would remain a market for surplus Infrastructural rolling stock and their spare parts and it would provide a useful lever in decades to come.
*A regional official in the Order of Keepers, managing Order affairs from a Temple-Archive.
The doors to the great hall were thrown open and a trio of axe wielding warriors ran in behind a young woman.
"Going so soon, Tatiana..." the leader boasted with a mocking tone, a grin on his face.
Tatiana's eye's narrowed. "Akim the Axe-Lord. I thought something smelled."
"Strong Men has a strong Musk little bird. One you'll grow to love in time."
"Watch it, one centimetre closer and you'll get a injection of hot lead." Tatiana's head hovered over her holster. "Besides, this town's aint yours anymore. Drop the axes and Major Marikov might show you mercy."
"No no my dear." Akim said with slow relish. "Marikov won't save you now. The Necromancer Nymerg has completed his spell! A thousand skeleton warriors have risen from the Mornfull Mounds and have taken up arms in my name." He raised his axe above his head. "This town is mine and shall stay mine forever and there's nothing your Great Machine can do to stop me! Ahahaha!" His minions laughed with him.
"...and Cut!" A clear voice carried over the set. With command the cameramen ceased cranking and the warriors, 'Akim' and 'Tatiana' relaxed.
"How was this take Sergei?" Actress Irina Verisleva asked with a bit of impatience, this was the sixth shoot for this scene and there were still thirty one more to do.
"I think that one's a keeper." Director Sergei Zhelezivik replied. "We'll shoot the escape scene after lunch."
"Not a moment to soon." Said Pawel Pysanka said as he handed his shield and paper mache skull-axe to a stagehand. "Thought we'd be on this all day."
"Don't blame me." Irina said in a light but weary way as she made her way to the Lunch Table for a sandwich and a cup of tea. "Or Igor, Ilya or yourself. Blame that damn fool manning the microphone pole."
"Don't be too hard on him." Pawel said calmy. "He's still learning, even if he could and should be doing so faster."
"Yeah." Snorted Ilya. In the distance, the Grip in question grumbled.
Night of the Necromancer was Infrastructure's third film with sound shot entirely without the aide of Fabricated equipment. A 22 minute long adventure set in the Wars of Unification. Even without the sound, it was still an ambitious production being three times longer than the average one-reel short that had been playing in fairs and cinemas for the past nine years and would be ready with the onset of winter. Operating mostly out of a couple old Armoury warehouses (leaving aside out-of-studio shoots) and with only about 220 employees in total from actors to caterers the Infrastructural Film Industry was in the summer of 47 IA was at this stage still nascent and it's works had been dismissed by foreigners as (in the words of Venoan merchant and theatre aficionado Ettori Vinchusci in 46 IA) as being 'a novel magic lantern show used to display eerily silent village fair fluff'. Even so, it's early products were never the less popular and the Ministry of Communications had big plans for this operation going forward.
(The Radiant City, Late Summer 47 IA)
On a cool morning a Ministry of Distribution SL-47 with an enclosed back made it's way down the streets of The Radiant City. There was not a lot of traffic yet, which was probably for the best. It accelerated quickly, stopped suddenly, swayed a bit and was a bit jerky in it's turns. Never the less the van came to a safe stop in Ivonova District and from it a young man and woman disembarked.
"Alright Sasha. How bad was that?" The man said reluctantly as he got to his feet.
Sasha put on grin as she made her way back. "Kirill you didn't miss any stop signs or lights or hit anything, even if you did park on the wrong side of the road. Still you still passed your road test, everything else is practice." She said as she unlocked the back of the van. "And the Bread's fine."
"Well I hope so, for everyone's sake." Kirill said as he took out a couple of trays, Sasha followed behind him. As he went he inhaled through his nose. "And that's a beautiful smell."
"Just don't drool on the loafs." Sasha jibed. Soon they'd walked into a MoD grocery store and dropped off their farinaceous cargo to the shopkeeper. They made ten more trips before having him sign off for the delivery. That done, the two got back into the van and made their way off again. This time at a slower pace.
Over the last nine months, ULAF had produced more than 12,000 SL-47s either as lorries and chassis for special fitting. More than all the the previous Infrastructural lorries, omnibuses, tractors, bulldozers, battlesteamers and other free-range steam and IC vehicles. Deploying such a fleet had massive complications in of itself, none the least of which was training of personnel, ranging from mechanics to drivers. Training programs were in place to get people up to speed, but novice drivers needed experienced drivers to learn the ropes. Early on a lot of which happened in and around The Radiant City itself for reasons both practical and propagandist, even though there were accidents. To minimize this, there were people like Sasha Plotnik. She'd been a MoD driver for the last five years and a big part of her job nowadays was helping newbies through the first few weeks on the job and nip bad habits in the bud. Kirill was not the worst she dealt with, but there was still massive room for improvement especially as more and more lorries and vans were finding their way onto the road.
(Daagsgrad, Autumn 47 IA)
On a cool night the Daagsgrad drydocks was full of sound and activity. There was the familiar ringing of metal, winding of cranes and background chatter of yard-hands hard at work. Though in three of them the ringing of hammers was now much diminished, as was the smell of coalsmoke from rivet buckets. In it's place there was the smell of molten steel and crackling sound of high temperature jets of fire and flying sparks. As she made her inspection Bureaucrat Grade-4 Yuna Igorova took note of another addition, the doubled up rubber pipes which snaked their way across the unfinished hull. These tubes lead from high pressure tanks to torches wielded by masked workers who used them to weld hull plates, bulkheads, girders and other elements together. Their speed was uneven, with some being a bit hesitant with regular stops, but even so it was quicker than riveting.
Oxy-acetylene welding was still a new thing, having only been introduced to Daagsgrad shipyards last Febuary and she'd seen enough reports of burns to know that they had their downsides. Training hundreds of workers in their use was a complicated affair in of itself. Even so, it was heartening to see the new tools put to good use. This would be the forth proper ship that the Daagsgrad shipyards built with welded construction. Beforehand they'd built a Hubtown class freighter as a dry run and that had preformed admirably in it's sea trials and another launched a week ago was doing just fine. This was a more ambitious program.
Like most people, she'd read about The Radiant City and it's factories in the newspapers. Similarly the Shipyard received a couple Lorries over the last five months. Their had been a lot of talk about them, a lot of which was enthusiastic. She agreed that it was a great accomplishment and saw the potential that this had. On the other hand, she'd felt a bit of envy and a bit more longing. Two decades ago, building the first wave of metal hulled steamship was the big glamorous project. During the Escort War naval construction was propagandized as the cutting edge against the Drow Slavers. Of course, both of these pushes involved a lot of hard work and long hours and undoubtedly there were plenty of weary workers and beleaguered bureaucrats involved in ULAF's construction and operation. In twenty years something would be the new big thing that everyone was talking about. Especially since they were doing some great new work here and now.
All those Lorries burned gasoline which was made from Petrolium. Petrolium came from the Colony or from foreign sources like Torion. Either way, it needed to be shipped in using Bottle or Cask class Tankers, which her people had built. Now they could build them quicker and cheaper than before with welding. But it was not just freighters and tankers that were to be used here. While the newspapers and radio went on about the new Lorries and recruitment drives for what would become The Radiant City several orders were quietly given to the Shipyards of Daagsgrad and Borogskov: new warships.
Since the end of the Escort War Daagsgrad had built a single slightly enlarged Destroyer and broke up six other warships. It was sad to see ships they'd built be taken apart for scrap iron, leaving aside that the Dark Elves were still out there. She'd read the memos about the budget, but it still seemed to be such a waste. Now finally they received orders for a new generation of Destroyers and Hunters. They would not have to work at the breakneck pace of wartime production, but with new tools such as Acetylene Torches they could build better and strong than ever before. Ships that would make those slaving bastards think twice before causing trouble in Infrastructure again so others would not have to go through what she did when she lost Inna.
She stopped by a set of workers hard at work on a section of hull and the progress they were making, taking note of everything. She was no Engineer, but she knew enough to see that things were proceeding reasonably smoothly. "Very Good" she said softly. Part of her chided her for this. After all you did not want to distract people as they were working with tools that could melt steel. Fortunately they kept to their job. She continued on her course.
(Daagsgrad, Autumn 47 IA)
Daagsgrad autumns had short days and were as a rule cool and foggy. Despite the weather the economic activities of the city continued. People went about buying and selling, did errands, visiting friends, family and lovers, doing business, went on strolls or hung out. In the weather a bearded man in a dark wool coat, scarf and a soft grey hat was nothing to comment on by casual inspection. If one monitored his course, they'd note that it was somewhat erratic, turning at corners and looping back a couple of times through the a collection of winding alleys. But sometimes people liked to take the roads less travelled and wander a bit. The buildings in this area were among the first the Infrastructurals had built and had seem some serious damage during the siege and rebellion. Even so, they did have a lot of odd nooks and crannies for those who did not want to be seen.
After passing a corner, the man stood still and checked what before and after him. He checked a pocket watch for the time and waited for six minutes. Then a figure rounded a corner and came out of the mist. A man with a moustache and a travel bag.
"Excuse me, do you know a good bar around here?" The Newcomer challenged in a familiar voice.
"I'd recommend Urlan's. It's not far." This, in a very private and transient lexicon, meant that he was not under duress and he had something substantial to talk about.
"Well could you tell me the way?" The newcomer replied.
"Certainly." The two of them approached in the gloom. As the man did so, he took off his hat, flipped it over and turned it inside out, revealing a darker interior before replacing it on his head.
"So...what do you have?" Salt said as he peeled off the moustache and slipped it up his sleeve. To the bearded man in the hat he was known only as Salt.
"Only this." The breaded man reached into his coat and produced a pipe mechanism. "One of the welding torches."
"May I?" Salt said expectantly. The first man offered the item to the newcomer who inspected it carefully. "Intriguing, if a bit simple."
"As I told you they're basically like an oil lamp, albeit a high pressure one burning gases."
"I remember. Just a comparison against general expectations of Infrastructural Machinery." Salt the item into his bag. "Nor is it a bad thing."
"And my payment? Getting that out of the yard and past the guards was not easy."
"Ten Kilo through the usual channels as agreed." Over the next couple months, his cleaning lady would leave an envelope behind his nightstand after some of her visits. Five envelopes in total with two thousand credits each, nearly double his annual salary. "We'd offer another ten for samples of that new gas, 'acetylene' I believe it's called?"
"What about oxygen?"
"That my superiors know about." That was all the information Salt had received on oxygen and all he cared to know about it. Operational security was paramount.
"They keep it in these tanks. High pressure things, the smallest of which weigh more than 20 kilos. You can't just keep them hidden in your jacket."
"Very well. My superiors shall work on the means going forward. This has been most productive. Good day." With that, Salt made his way forward and continued through the winding alleys. The bearded man shook his head and eventually made his way home.
Magnus Norsisleb was not a fighter. This was not say that he could not fight if he had to, but he believed firmly that the best way to win a fight was, if possible, avoid it. Which did not mean that he did not have opinions. When the Dark Elves landed, he'd got train tickets to Borogskov for himself, his wife and two kids and he made plans to flee further. When he'd read about the damn fool uprising, he was furious. A bunch of idiots deluded themselves into thinking that the old slavemongers were anything other than petty spiteful parasites tearing up his city because they figured they could fill their shoes and reign atop the rubble pile. Not that he loved Infrastructure, seeing it as a blunt self-righteous ravening beast for all it's clever toys. An attitude which persisted even after he got a job in the shipyards after the siege. To Magnus what mattered in this world was himself, family and friends.
Six years ago he had some money troubles from some misplaced bets. Then he'd met Salt who gave him an offer: 750 credits for some photographs of some of the new ships under construction, enough to cover his debts with a bit left over himself. He'd agreed, did the job and resolved an embarrassing situation without his employer or wife knowing. Over the next few years he'd done more of the same. He'd invested some and spent the rest and generally lived better than his neighbours. The welding torch was the first thing he'd stolen from the shipyards besides old paperwork, but as far as he could see there were plenty of the things and there was probably a factory in Dalatyr or that Radiant City making hundreds of them a day.
As for Salt, he knew that he was working for another power who wanted Infrastructural shipbuilding secrets and left it at that. Salt did not say more and Magnus did not pry. It was a not a chatty relationship. Shortly after their parting, Salt called up his other connections and the welding torch and a bundle of miscellaneous reports began a circuitous but secure journey to the research workshops of House Valcas.
(Administrative District, Daagsgrad, Autumn 47 IA)
Papers rustled, typewriters clicked and rang, pencils scribbled, the radiators occasionally thumped and there was a faint murmur of conversation. This was the constant background noise for Maja Tomenko's office as she poured over her usual pile of paperwork. In general these were banal: copies of employee timekeeping records and receiving records made up the bulk of it. She was more interested in the marginalia that had been added. Most of which pointed out irregularities in accounting or anomalies, with most of them being fairly mundane. Only in the context of various written procurement reports and Enforcement inquiries could they be parsed out, and even then it was imperfect. Fairly regularly, she scribbled an addendum onto an older note relating to a potential lead which could either strengthen, weaken or invalidate it. At the end of the day, she'd file her notes and submit a list of the strongest leads to her staff for future investigation.
"Inspector Tomenko?" A voice said, drawing her out of her little world.
"Hey Ulf." She turned to face him with a grin. "Good news or bad?"
"That's depends on your perspective, ma'am." Ulf said formally with a folder in hand. "But we have managed to find a hard connection between Daisy, Rose and Bluebell."
"And what of the rest of the bouquet?" She'd been the one to suggest floral code-names for a number of suspects.
"Lily, Tulip, Pansy, Daffodil, Marigold, Orchid and Primrose are not involved with this connection so far as we can tell."
"Oh Poot." She spat the mock profanity. "Still it makes sense, they have been pretty smart about this so far. May I?"
"Of course." Ulf said as he handed the folder over.
"Thank you." Maja said sweetly as she received it and opened it up. In short, it contained reports on one Roskara Shelepov, a fifty three year old cleaning lady who fairly regularly worked for subjects Daisy, Rose and Bluebell, along with a few other clients. Normally she'd charged 1.2 credits an hour, pretty much the going rate for basic domestic cleaning services. Such an income was modest, but Even so she'd owned a fairly substantial house in the Southeastern Dev-Zone. She apparently had some investments in rental properties and dividends would cover some of the discrepancies, but that begged the question as to where she got the capital. Her family was not rich, especially given her father's debts and her brother had been a rebel who died in the Battle of Daagsgrad. This was not unusual in of itself and she had a solid alibi for her ignorance of that plot given that the core Rebels were almost exclusively male and she'd spent the siege in a friends' basement well away from the fighting. But that did not rule out anti-Infrastructural sympathies.
Over the last four decades, workshops to the west had tried with varying degrees of success to make duplicates and derivatives of Infrastructural weaponry, tools and technology. You could understand the desire and their were some benefits to it, even though they got much of the raw info to do so through traitors, abductors, extortionists and thieves to try to prop up their own faltering feudal (or worse) Societal Machinery. Their attempts at probing the Coldlands for their secrets ranged from comedically incompetent to those both well funded and fiendishly subtle. Local Enforcement and the IBME could and would catch individuals engaged in industrial espionage, but against the more serious ventures and State level actors you needed something more. The pertinent data was out there if you knew where to look and how to find it. Many of her colleagues were involved with informants or interrogation, but Maja mostly worked with paperwork and accounting finding it just as productive.
Few people who knew her as a child would think that Maja would take up her career. The petite daughter of a bakery manager and a secretary who alternated between shy and bubbly. Her interest in jigsaws and crosswords were the earliest signs of this, as was a fondness for cards. She attended Administrative Prep, but she did not go down the Bureaucratic path or settle into a cozy clerk's posting. Instead she signed up for the Internal Monitoring Directorate, which was definitely a demanding job with a lot of responsibilities, but the puzzles it offered were formidable indeed. And the professional and financial activities of Ms Shelepov was a piece around which others would fall into place.
(Daagsgrad, Autumn 47 IA)
On a simple bed in a small bed above a Daagsgrad linen shop there slept a man who'd for the last eight years had used seven different names, changing them as easily as other people changed socks. None of them were the name his parents gave, a cherished relic he kept lodged in his memory. He had a couple for day-to-day living, one he used when he went out looking for entertainment and a couple he used for work. His work involved erratic hours and it was not unusual for him to spend the day tucked beneath it's sheets, as he did on a cool afternoon until he was rudely and abruptly roused by frantic activity.
"Get up! Now!" One of his roommates said in Allergonian as he shook his shoulder. The sleeper opened his eyes. "A Lorry pulled up full of Mobes* and they're coming this way."
"Shit. SHIT!" The Sleeper said as he peeled himself out the sheets. "Bar the door, burn what you can and get moving."
"Already being done, Bread's on the Door." The Roommate had a pile of folios and notes in his right arm and proceeded to stuff them into the small iron stove as fast as he could, as well as having a revolver in his pocket. How much use that would be was not worth dwelling on.
The Sleeper threw on a pair of pants, shoes, jacket, a cone shaped hat and collected his emergency pack in a few short seconds. It was a small leather folio with five hundred credits, eight marks, some forged documents for a yet-unused alias, a pair of spectacles and a false beard and a small booklet of contacts. As soon as he was done there was hammering on the Door.
"Infrastructural Bureau of Mobilized Enforcement!" A muffled cry came from the doorway. "We have a Search Warrant! Open up in the Name of the Law!"
"Stay safe." He said just before he slipped out a window, never expecting to see any of his three fellow lodgers again. Already Nails had left, hopefully Bread and Candle could make their escape. He clambered over the rooftops, keeping crouched as he did so for three buildings before descending to the ground by a cast iron pipe and a fire escape. He thought he heard gunfire, though no challenges or threats. He threaded his way through and prepared to be just another pedestrian. With a little care he'd get out of the city and then either get to another Safehouse for a few months and go to ground or get out of the country.
Then to his shock and horror two uniformed figures came out to meet him. One was a lean Mobe Corporal carrying a shotgun and a truncheon. The other was a petite woman with girlish pair of ponytails, who was far more frightening. She raised a gloved finger.
"Hold it there." She said with a slight tinge of giddiness "You look a lot like someone I was looking for."
"Who would that be, Enforcer?" He said trying to give just the right amount of concern that an innocent bystander would given when confronted by Enforcement on a warpath.
"Don't know his name, silly fellow goes by Salt. Also there's no way out of that alley, at least horizontally."
Salt tensed to make a dash. This was beyond bad and he did not even have a knife.
"Now now." She said as she raised a gloved finger and drew a sleek slim pistol. "We're just going to have a little chat with you and your friends. The Corporal's will just help you get back to our office." The Mobe advanced on him quickly, grabbed him before he could bolt and in a few quick motions had Salt in handcuffs.
In the end they'd collected three of four members of this cell alive, the forth was killed in a shoot out. An Junior-Enforcer did suffer a flesh wound to the leg, but by all accounts he'd make a full recovery. For the last few days she'd fretted about this outing. She did have combat training and the Mobes were good at what they did but even so most of her work was done behind a desk. A certain degree of field-work was required of Internal Monitoring Directorate officers, though most of that was fairly low key stuff following up on leads, working with contacts and interviews with figures. This was a raid against a key node in a well funded Industrial espionage ring which was suspected of having some serious firepower and apparently did have a shotgun and two revolvers. A lot could have gone wrong even with prep. Even so, it was her case and Commissioner Vrubel felt that she should personally oversee one of the day's three raids. Everything went smoothly and she was glad of that, even though she hoped to never repeat it.
The next few weeks would be busy for Maja as interrogation and written documentation brought in a flood of new information. This lead to more arrests and by extension more info to process. Soon enough, the IBME and IMD had rolled up most of Valcas' assets around the The Yards as well as some of a few other operations. A few of their agents (mostly human Proxies) went to ground or otherwise escaped, but their operations would take years to rebuild. As for Salt and his surviving colleagues, they would be put to productive use as Detentional Labourers in the Petrolium Colony.
*Slang term for the IBME.
(Serene Republic of Venoa, Late Autumn 47 IA)
A pen ran over parchment leaving behind a neat signature, punctuated with a final strike. The documented was rotated 180 degrees on a desktop and for a moment inspected, just for a final conformation and an official stamp.
"And with that the last consignment has been officially received Enlightened Bureaucrat." Vintenzio Di'Hanseti said "And I must say that this comes as a relief to both of us given bond obligations."
"Indeed". Lena Leskov (Bureaucrat Level 5) said as she got to her feet. "On behalf of the Great Machine i'm glad that this has been to our mutual benefit."
"You are too kind. Still it has been a pleasure doing business with your government." Vintenzio extended his hands
"Agreed." She said as she shook the bankers hand.
"And if your Great Machine has any further needs of our services, we'd be glad to provide them. Until then, farewell." He said as he left her office in a good mood. The arrival of another thirty two thousand Lyra to his vaults would always put a banker in a good mood even if it meant the cessation of interest a bit earlier than he expected. Even so, his Bank had profited immensely over the past decade off of Infrastructural war debt both directly by payments and by bond issues on that interest.
Before the Escort War he'd known that Infrastructural imports were highly profitable, things such as phonographs were in high demand and commanded impressive prices. During the war they upped their export of arms; and after that they made a big show in selling Ironclad and by selling Roadsteamers to prominent Patricians. Even so, the area where the Coldlanders had made their most substantial impact was grain with a staggering increase in volume. Apparently it had to do with trains, which unlike oxen did not eat grain as they travelled. As the Coldlanders expanded their railways more of their Coops could sell on the international market. This had upset some of the big landholding patricians, but on the other hand it had lowered the price of bread in the city and the baker's guild was happy. Either way, it was indicative on where to invest. In the Serene Republic alone there were now more than a hundred firms that had invested in mechanization ranging from railways to textile mills to factories that made firelighters and more ambitious people with their own plans. To start up new ventures and expand existing ones they'll need loans and Di'Hanseti Bank would (after careful consideration) would be there to provide.
The Dark Elves were the obvious losers in the Escort War, accomplishing none of their strategic objectives while loosing many ships and warriors and paying an indemnity to end the conflict. However Infrastructure did not really benefit from victory: it was costly, set back their plans, accelerated their enemy's industrial development and they gained very little from it. The biggest winner of the Escort War was Venoa, who lost nothing and gained a substantial injection of Capital to ram into their own development.
(Southeastern Continent, Late Autumn 47 IA)
On a warm morning in Velnariath a train rolled across the red landscape past a field of Vyankaillin gathering the day's sunlight. In most respects it was a fairly modest affair set to a narrow gauge* with twenty small ore wagons that were pulled along at a modest 27 kph by a small 0-4-2 Valcas-type numbered J-211. Over the last decade, House Valcas had build hundreds of Locomotives for various jobs for buyers in Valnothron and beyond and for the most part J-211 was a fairly normal for one of their small mine units. It's marine engine derived piston assembly was a bit of an anachronism nowadays as Valcas' steamworks had stopped putting them on mainline locomotives seven years ago though they still put them on the lighter units. It's cabin was open with just a simple cloth awning for shade, but this was a concession to climate. But the thing that most people noticed as odd about it was it's lack of a smokestack.
Eventually the vehicle began to slow. As it did so it's Drow operator let out a sigh, he'd hoped that he'd have enough power left to make it to his next stop but that was not likely. He'd cut the steam and applied the breaks gradually bringing the train to a complete stop as per protocol. In truth he'd figured that he could do it on the move but the Governor had been firm on not taking risks. Once the vehicle was still, he opened up a set of clamps and extracted a metal cylinder banded with runic steel and full of glass. He set the heavy thing aside as he opened up a small steel box and produced another identical Cylinder save a Green Glow from it's runes. He put the spent cylinder in the box and with care hefted the fresh one into place facing into what would be the Firebox on most locomotives and fiddled with a nob on it's back and it's rear rune ring to engage it. Soon afterwards the steam pressure began to rise again and he was back under way. With a smile on his face, the driver set his vehicle back into motion
Torthirn zi'Valcas had been taken by House Valcas as a ward thirteen years ago. He was sent to the Ironworks and after some basic instruction was tasked with keeping the cannon foundry's boring engines in working order during the Escort War. Soon after he was poached by Weitas ti'Halsath for her locomotive and after two years of that he was shunted overseas to work on the locomotives of the the Zharhys line to help operate the machines he'd built. Then two years ago he'd been transferred again to the far side of the world to man this short line. Eleven miles from the minehead to the colony's Ironworks and back again three to five times a day. Bringing over overseers, food, water, tools, various other supplies and bringing back a vast amount of metal, with drop offs for crews working the solar collectors.
Velnariath was still a rough and tumble mining colony in the desert, but despite that Torthirn liked his job. It was fairly easy but still stimulating, much better than any prospect he had back in Valnothron, especially as there were plans for a proper full sized railway. Beyond that the land had a stark beauty to it and the wildlife was strange and wonderful. A couple months ago he'd met Breijeth, a shopkeeper with a beautiful smile and the right sense of humour who found him handsome. He could see the two of them building a nice house by the river with a couple of domestics to keep it nice and tend to the children while they our out taming this frontier and building a key part in achieving the Divine Destiny of global Drow Domination. More than most, he had firsthand experience of this. Using a six vaul Sun Flask, J-211 could go down the line thrice with a bit to spare before it needed to be swapped out. No need to carry a tender full of coal, nor ash and smut getting everywhere and once they were spent, they could be put back in the Vyankaill for recharging.
He'd heard that the Coldlanders went around the world for Stone Oil that they distilled into fuel, as far as Torthirn was concerned they could keep it.
*Three drow feet, or 93cm
(Tamanota Shoguante, Early Winter 47 IA)
As the sun crept over the the horizon fishermen loaded their boats with nets and other supplies. Potters threw clay on their wheels and began to work it and carpenters carefully began to work wood, the two families of inn keepers prepared a quick breakfasts of tea, rice, grilled fish and preserved vegetables for their guests. Servants cleaned dishes and set laundry out, old women swept up, a couple men helped out a friend replace lost roof tiles, a few peasants peddled firewood, a pair of samurai made their police rounds, other people went about their business at a relaxed pace and children played. In general it was a calm winter morning in the small town of Isuban. It's people treading their well worn paths at a relaxed pace. Not much happened in these towns between market days and festivals. Broadly speaking there was some interest goings on beyond their small island elsewhere in the Shogunate, sailors and merchants could find interested ears in the Sake Houses. Reports of smoke spewing iron ships sailing to Kaniwan bearing clockwork treasures for the Tamanota clan and the Emperor had come their way and some of the Samurai had acquired some rather impressive new firearms but to the people of Isuban that was interesting but not important like the rice harvest or the price of pickled herring. One more fantastic tale with a grain of truth in it that only marginally effected their lives.
Then the bell-tower was wrung with three rapid clangs followed by a short break and the sequence repeating. It could only mean one thing, an attack from the sea. A few men rushed to the town armoury for armour and weapons while most set up barricades as Samurai took command. The two battlements were manned and their eight cannons readied. A rider dispatched to the fortress for aide as peasants from nearby farmsteads poured in. The people of Isuban had faced raids before and had fought off the last two incursions. Typically the assault could be furious but brief. They would not have the numbers nor the stomach for casualties for a sustained siege especially when reinforcements arrived. Most likely they'd content themselves with rounding up straggling peasants and other unfortunates to be outside the town walls they could. In general the populace thought that if they could hold out for a few hours, they'd be safe.
Then they saw the force coming their way. Not a trio of ships, but a dozen. Worse still was their armament. At long range they brought their guns to bear and fired off ragged broadsides into the battlements. Many shots went stray (which could mean anything from landing in the sea or crashing into someone's house) and a good number of them exploded. A couple of cannons returned fire, but soon enough they were silenced. The fleet advanced, dropped anchor off the shore more than forty boats loaded with raiders. The defenders shot at these with what guns they had, but the raiders had more both more faster firing rifles to return fire. They also had swivel guns, which they used against barricades. Firing a half-vaul projectile they could smash through the makeshift barriers, but the raiders were sparing with them. Indiscriminate slaughter ran counter to their purpose.
The landing parties attacked in three groups: one head on and the other two taking the flanks. Hundreds of men disembarked and were soon sallying forth letting out a cacophony of cheers, jeers and individual battle-cries as they went. Some threw grenades, others came in with revolving pistols and swords and most charged with bayonets fixed letting off the odd shot as they went. A few fell or were wounded in their assault, but sheer numbers and firepower were on their side. The west side of the town was the first to fall with the centre holding on for a few more minutes and the west lasting a bit longer. The defenders fell back, but by that point there were already raiders moving through the town and searching for plunder and victims.
One of the invaders advanced through a streets at a quick pace, his Failverth 4255 rifles at the ready and his eyes darting back and forth. Ahead of him he saw a couple of armed men round a corner, he quickly levelled his gun and pulled the trigger. There was the flash, a sudden slam of recoil, the loud crack and a jet of smoke. A second latter he saw that he'd taken down a Samurai with what looked like (and latter turned out to be) a modern Coldland gun.
"Great shoot Arok! AAAARGH!" One Krai Pahyhan said as he ran past with revolver in hand quickly switching to a battlecry. Arok grinned at that as he reloaded to take out some of the armed peasant defenders he had with him. He'd take the rifle as a trophy, but the real prize was to come.
Soon the Tahajemitan raiders had the village under their control with parties scouring the surrounding countryside. Five thousand people were gathered from in and around Isuban and the surrounding village and the selection progress had begun. For the most part they took people between about six and forty, leaving aside the disabled few that were badly wounded and with a handful of older skilled artisans included. The old were seen as depreciated in value and while infants and young children had a lot of life in them they had a high attrition rate at sea. In total, some 2,814 people were loaded up onto the slave ship as well as a fair deal of plunder; from money to food, art, kegs of sake, clocks, porcelain, shrine ornaments, weapons and tools. Anything that looked like it had some value to them that they could was stolen. The armoury was burned and the powder magazines for the guns were blown up. After a few brutal hours the raiders left and headed back south. Between death and abduction, some 3,782 people were lost from Isuban and it's environs that day. More would succumb to their wounds over the new month.
Isuban was one of four towns on the Island of Takijima, part of the Southwestern chain of Higato. On that day, three of them were hit by nearly simultaneous attacks. Well armed and well coordinated, the incursion made off with 9,281 people as well as three trade ships while leaving another 3,405 dead. Nearly an eighth of the total population was gone and a blow which would immiserate the remainder. In total this incursion had taken more Higatoan lives than the minor raids had done in the last four. Worst still, a month latter another island was subject to raid of similar size from Ilong and two month after that a Zturimi fleet laid siege to the western coat of Nanbushu, the main Tamanota islands. Each did similar damage, though a Tamanotan light squadron did manage to take a couple of ships during the last raid and liberated four hundred captives at the price of a lost ship and 150 dead sailors and soldiers.
From the perspective of both the Southeastern Raiders and their Drow backers this venture was a major success. The large-scale raids brought back higher than normal returns with lower losses even before the operation was subsidized. Janilonas' high council got full slave markets, sales for their arms merchants, improved relationships and such a move would keep Higato on the defensive. It would take a bit of time before another set of major raids could be organized, but that meant they could prepare.
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Infrastructure: Internal Monitoring Directorate
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The Internal Monitoring Directorate is Infrastructure's internal security agency. Tasked with a variety of jobs counter-espionage to the identification and neutralization of anti-Infrastructural insurgents. As of 47 IA it has some 640 members spread out among sixteen bases with half of it's people being fairly mobile and deployed as needed, though it is increasing in size and strength.
The IMD uniform is mostly worn by Officers when they're in the office. Much of their business involves dealing with paperwork and reports from Enforcement. They also conduct interviews (ranging from visits to people's homes and offices to the questioning of subjects in custody), manage networks of informants and contacts and perform field work. When on the streets, IMD officers and agents typically wear plain clothes. That said, all members of the IMD are trained in firearms usage and unarmed combat, leaving aside the Extraordinary Response Unit, a set of (currently) four squads of ex-army soldiers that are heavily armed for those thankfully rare occasions when the IMD needs a lot of firepower to sort out a problem. Though making use of local Enforcement or the IMBE is more common.
Even so, when a dark bowler hat with a red ribbon and gold badge shows up things have gotten serious.
Infrastructural freelance Technician
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Infrastructural Technicians are more numerous than Engineers and more informal. Engineers are (with some variations and exceptions) Academy trained and required to serve the Infrastructural State for a tour of duty. Technicians on the other hand simply have to demonstrate their competence and are given a certification. Many Technicians are the products of Trade Schools (among them a fair number of Engineering Academy drop-outs), but others are the product of workplace training programs, military training programs or are self taught and pass their certification exams. With a few exceptions Technicians are not required to work for the Infrastructural government, though most will at least part time as the pay and benefits are good. Even so a substantial number of Technicians work freelance. Various firms and people need their services at least occasionally and they can pay a premium for good services.
When working for State Industries full time, Technicians will often have uniforms or at least insignia indicating their qualifications. This helps identify who's qualified to do what and can encourage a sense of pride. Many freelance Technicians have adopted their own personalized attire to advertise their skill-set and build reputation. This can be a fairly subdued pin or it can be fairly elaborate. A jacket with Insignia on the shoulders and a hat proclaiming one to be an "ElectriTechician" is not unusual. Rubber gloves are also part of the unofficial quasi-uniforms of an electric Technician. After some debate, there are some legal restrictions on this forbidding 'False Advertising' by the uncertified, on top of some workplace regulations involving protective headgear and similar for certain trades.
Technicians are encouraged to be careful, for even though their knowledge base is more limited than that of Engineers it can still be prized by non-Infrastructurals who will often seek to extract it by force.
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Would be cool to see the Committee invest in stuff like this, since trains and bikes have been around for a while:
At Utrecht Centraal, one of the bigger RL ones, there is enough spots for over 12,500 bicycles. With big ones like that, plus smaller ones that can park a few thousand, plus cycling being able to bring up to 9x more people to a train station, I think this would be right up the Committee's alley. Regarding the desire to be smart, desire to optimize resources usage, cycling and transit complementing each other, and all that stuff.
At Utrecht Centraal, one of the bigger RL ones, there is enough spots for over 12,500 bicycles. With big ones like that, plus smaller ones that can park a few thousand, plus cycling being able to bring up to 9x more people to a train station, I think this would be right up the Committee's alley. Regarding the desire to be smart, desire to optimize resources usage, cycling and transit complementing each other, and all that stuff.
Passenger Carriages as of 48 IA
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In the decade since the Escort War, there have been several major railway booms. Infrastructure would resume railway development postponed by wartime vigorously while beyond it's borders nascent networks would begin come into their own. They offered a massive improvement in overland transportation, both for ability to move freight as well as people. Here are examples of passenger carriages from three nations in 48 IA, and the services they provide.
Infrastructure: Introduced in 45 IA the P-125 passenger car (itself a derivative of the P-118, along with the P-119 through 124 and P-126, itself being the rear-end unit of the subset) the latest in passenger accommodation. 21 meters long and built on two bogies, it is intended for long distance work. It includes electric lighting, hot water heating in winter, fan based ventilation in summer, a lavatory with a flush toilet and sink and comfortable padded seating for 48 passengers in it's open plan layout. An cloth covered corridor connection allows passengers to easily move along the length of the train. Other variants on the P-118 include passenger cars include mid train passenger cars, corridor sleepers, dining cars, baggage cars, crew cars, lounge cars and VIP cars.
The general Ministry of Transportation strategy for passenger transport is egalitarian. A high ranking Bureaucrat and a wealthy businessman may share the same carriage with cooperativniks and factory workers (though Bureaucrats and Engineers can travel for free on work assignments). That said, there is some variation in the quality of service along the some 14,500km long network. Some of which is based on journey length, but also on what equipment is working it. The P-125 and her sisters are in 48 IA used on several of the main Intercity lines drawn by high end locomotives at speeds of up to 85kph. In contrast, on a lot of older lines accommodations are more rudimentary with older locomotives pulling older rolling stock at speeds as low as 25kph (leaving aside mountainous areas and other places with steep inclines). There are a few private trains used for foreign dignitaries and other such VIPs, as well as three special trains reserved for the use of Central Committee, which include a few private carriages for accommodating guests, carriages for security personnel and highly specialized accommodations for the Machine Lifeforms themselves.
Allergonian Empire: The Empire developed steam engines and locomotives with the assistance of the runaway Engineer Malnov Yorigsov, but applied it in their own way. Partially because of local sensibilities and partially due to the Enperisberg Coachbuilders' Guild (and soon it's sister guilds in other Imperial cities and Dwarfholds) asserting itself in rolling stock design. Notably a class system was imposed, offering different rates of service for different rates. First and second class passenger carriages were built like stagecoaches, which were eventually extended out with up to four such units in a single unit supported by either four or six fixed wheels. First class accommodations were were ornamented very well appointed and included a small table and a small coffee service powered by a small spirit stove while heating cold weather is provided by boxes of hot sand which are slotted beneath the seats. First class accommodation is generally used by Nobles and the occasionally prominent merchant, second class is similar but more austere lacking tables. High ranking nobles would often have their own private cars. These are used by well off: merchants, lawyers, skilled artisans, etc. Third class in contrast is basically open freight wagons with benches. By 48 IA a majority of these have a wooden roof to keep of rain with some being fully enclosed, though fully open Third Class Carriages are still fairly common. These are used by day labourers and peasants. Travellers buy food and relieve themselves at regular stops and while blankets are often provided on long distance services many passengers prefer to sleep at hotels along the way on long journeys. By 48 IA most Allergonian passenger trains average between 20-40kph, with a few services getting up to 52 kph.
While there is a lot of railway construction in the Allergonian Empire it is being persued by three groups: Imperial Railways built and managed by the Imperial Crown, Royal Railways built by the eight constituent Kingdoms of the Empire and the catch-all category of Chartered Railways built by cities, local noble dynasties, guilds or joint-stock-companies. There has been a fair bit of railway construction, but a lot of it is working at cross purposes and there have been specific complications. The aim of the Imperial Railways is to link all the major cities of the Empire together for economic and political reasons, but this can be slow going as there are nobles which flatly refuse to sell land to Imperial Railways but will cooperate with Royal and Charter Railways because they feel that the Imperial Throne is overreaching. Often these groups will work at cross purposes and sometimes sabotage the others. There are still common standards in place both by law (such as Gauge) and established trends (people expect X service on Imperial Railways, so Royal and Charter Railways strive to match it). Even so there are some local peculiarities: for example in three kingdoms, unaccompanied human women* are required to ride in women only carriages while Dwarven operated railways have built special double decker carriages offering reduced fares to passengers under 152.4cm tall.
Valnothron and House Valcas: The first experimental Valcas passenger wagons followed similar lines those of the Allergonian Empire, but these were stop gaps. Valcas agents operating in Infrastructure had collected a lot of information on Infrastructural passenger cars for years and after the conclusion of the escort war that was the template which they would follow. Carriages following the Infrastructural model would be put into service in 38 IA and rapidly became the standard. Having established itself early and being flush with cash, House Valcas would go on to have a hand in nearly every railway in Valnothron and would become a major exported to other Drow states of both locomotives, rolling stock and general expertise, setting an example that would be widely followed.
While Valcas railcars would follow Infrastructural internal layouts they mirrored the Allergonians by offering two classes of service for paying customers. The carriages were in general more primitive than their infrastructural counterparts, lacking features such as steam powered heating for example, this is often made up for in the eyes of the patrons through in first class through other assets. These include hardwood furniture with spider-silk upholstery, carpets from the Naga Rajs, fretwork, manalamps for internal illumination, fine art, small onboard libraries and mindful attendants. Second class on a Valcas railway is also relatively well furnished. Bathrooms are on board, but are more primitive. Customized private carriages are also available to the rich. The best Valcas passenger trains in 48 IA can reach speeds of 60kph for short distances, but 25-35 is a more common average. The network has grown across Valnothron very quickly due to the state's small size. More substantial railway development is happening in Valnothron's colonial holdings.
It should be noted that these passenger services are limited to customers who can buy tickets which are (with a few exceptions relating to Proxies and foreign diplomats) inevitably Dark Elves. A large volume of those who travel on Valnothron railways are inevitably non-Drow slaves. Certain Drow passenger carriages have compartments for personal attendants, but the bulk of Drow Slaves transported by rail are loaded up into Slave Transport Wagons. These are basically open freight wagons enclosed with an iron cage, a pair of locked doors and a four inch wide hole cut in the bottom. Standard procedure on most Valnothron railways for long hauls is that bread and water be provided at watering stations twice daily while in transit, which is included in the cargo fee and for the carriages to be hosed down regularly.
*These policies caused a stir in the Dwarven community which generally don't hold with sex segregation. After some lobbying and a few instances in which railway employees were threatened with battleaxes a compromise was struck, Dwarven Women can ride on their own in both regular and Women-Only carriages though Dwarven Men remain excluded.
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Dark Elven Cuisine
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Behind their walls and Watchtowers the Dark Elves have over the millennia have developed their own distinct culinary traditions, taking influences from the High Elves and various human cultures but still largely it's own thing. Here's a quick run-down of some points relating to Drow food and the associated customs.
- Dark Elves don't gorge themselves. Eating to excess is considered a sign of personal weakness that reflects badly on yourself and your kin and there will come times when food becomes scarce. Drow meals are generally not huge. There are exceptions to this, for example certain days which are honoured with feasts.
- In "civilized conditions" (their homelands, colonies, in the captain's quarters onboard a warship, etc) Dark Elves have two eating utensils: spoons and tongs. Using knives, even small table knives, is considered provocative in a culture with politics which can be subtle and cutthroat (often literally). Cutting food up is seen as the cook's job.
- Kitchen Slaves are very common. Effectively all Drow Houses will have at least one, as will many non-House Dark Elven families often as the first slave they will buy. Generally food prep is seen as slave work, but Drow Chefs do exist. They are charged with managing a group of slave cooks to ensure that they produce food is prepared properly.
- Dark Elven meals have been described as "a pile of Hors d'oeuvres". Dark Elves like to make their food into a collection of small things which can be eaten in at most a couple of bites. Bread made for Drow consumption is usually cut into a bunch of small buns (Nhir). Considerable effort is spent in making each morsel attractive and plating them nicely.
- At a Drow formal meal a preeminent figure (a Familiarch or senior-most family member, a commanding officer, etc) will preside over the event and will usually get the first portions of the spread. Even so, care will be made to ensure that said portions are random. Slave attendants will also act as poison tasters.
- Dark Elves generally feel that each food item should be it's own thing save for deliberate pairings like Bread and Meat. To that end, rather than having one plate dark elves will have several small ones.
- Among the foods prized by the Dark Elves are things with a strong flavors. In particular they have a keen taste for Umami (but not limited to) Mushrooms, Aged Cheese, Fermented Fish products and meat. When it comes to sweeter fare, Dark Elves esteem Plumbs, Pears and Peaches as the best fruit and adore chocolate. Spices are widely used, but judiciously. Dark Elves are not big on overwhelming their senses with a lot of hot pepper.
- In terms of Alcohol, Dark Elves are mostly go for Wine/Cider and Brandy. Beer and whisky are often seen as Slave Drinks (or at most the drinks of the Houseless), though in Galthirith and Hansoliath have a strong Dark Elven beer cultures and to a lesser extent Janilonas and Valnothron are more open to it.
- Unlike the High Elves, most Dark Elven food is mundane with no more than normal background magic. The biggest exception to the rule is Coffee (by far the most popular caffeinated beverage among the Drow), which will often have a measure of minor Mana Potion added to it.
- When a Drow Army is off on campaign, Dark Elves will go for a more rough and tumble form of field cooking and field dining. If you're on the march against foes that would kill you horribly if they got their hands on you, getting your panties in a twist that Xylein cut off a rough hunk off a ox leg with his and cut it into bite sized bits with his dagger and had seconds and thirds knowing that it could easily be weeks before his next hot meal is seen as daft.
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Telsion Dwarven Decapod
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In Western Ilvamicum Dwarves typically live in Holds which are typically at least under the general aegis of their human or High Elven neighbours or as minorities in human cities. For the past fourteen centuries in the Telsion Peninsula (South of the Eastern Principalities, East of Bluewine Bay and West of the Greenwater Sea and The Gash) this situation is reversed. Various small human principalities and petty kingdoms owe fealty and pay tribute to the various Dwarven Thanes, who in turn provide protection against the forces of the Drow and aggresion from the various Necrite dominions. Each of the Clans is independent in most affairs, though they do have a rough confederation to deal with common issues which are discussed at the Thanesmoot. In 39 IA the Thanesmoot made one of their most substantial decisions of the last century, declaring that all inter-hold railways between the Confederation's members would be set to a gauge of nine Dwarven Hands or (1.62 meters). This was followed up by an explosion of railway construction and bridge building to link up as many holds as possible.
There had been some previous experimentation with mine locomotives, but the commitment to a Common Gauge set experimentation into railway technology into over-drive. Many skilled an eager Dwarves, most of whom were youngsters under eighty, invested considerable time and energy into design and testing. For some time the one could hear the explosive sounds of boilers bursting and farmers would find shrapnel raining down on their chicken coups as stress tests were carried out. Dwarves have a tendency to fixate on an issue and a strong instinct to do things and the machines sacrificed in such experiments did not die in vain. The result was a wide variety of locomotive designs.
This 0-10-0 (Decapod) locomotive was put into service in the spring of 48 IA and represents the height of Dwarven locomotive design at the time. The work of Myrnil Delninsdaughter of Vihornskrel, it is among the largest locomotive on the Thanesmoot network and the most powerful, with a robust boiler able to power it's ten driving wheels with considerable force. It's top speed is a modest 58kph, though her strength lies in in considerable traction effort of 92 kN. Respectable even by Infrastructural standards and well suited for moving large volumes of bulk goods. Most notably coal, iron, masonry stone and steel for, among other things further railway construction.
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