Chapter 6

The Agony of Creation (1)

City of London, England.

"Ah, Sir."

"I came by to check on the progress, Brunel."

Though young, he is also the most insane career man.

Isambard Kingdom Brunel.

The greatest engineer Britain has ever produced.

My relationship with this gentleman is quite complicated.

A few years ago, an accident occurred during the construction of the Thames Tunnel, resulting in several deaths. Brunel, who was responsible for the construction, was severely injured and had to convalesce for six months. It was a major accident, with two of the responsible parties dying on the spot, and as a result, the tunnel construction was suspended for several years.

Since then, Brunel's career hasn't been smooth sailing. The construction of the Clifton Suspension Bridge, which he directed, was stranded when investors pulled out due to the Bristol Riots. That's when I first invested in Brunel, which was the beginning of our relationship.

Later, Brunel became the chief engineer for the Great Western Railway and, while laying down the railway, suddenly became interested in ships.

He proposed a new route from Bristol to New York, leading to the establishment of the Great Western Steamship Company.

I also listed my name as an early investor and major shareholder. Of course, there are separate managers.

In an era where there were still doubts about whether steamships could efficiently cross the ocean, would I not want to be involved in a transatlantic shipping venture led by an engineer whose name I recognized from the 21st century? I would have to get involved, even if it meant going into debt.

"Perhaps we should consider adding sails. But as you know…."

"Sails take up a lot of space."

"Yes, to make it profitable, we need to carry as much cargo as possible."

"Have you looked into the technology I suggested?"

"You mean the rotor?"

"That could significantly reduce the space needed. You wouldn't need to fold the sails, and it's also strong against headwinds."

"Indeed, I've calculated that the steam engine alone should be sufficient…."

"Well, anything can happen at sea, and sometimes the unimaginable happens. It wouldn't hurt to be cautious, right? Consider it positively."

Actually, I'm saying this because I know that if this company adopts the rotor, or wind tunnel, as an auxiliary propulsion system, I, as the original inventor—though I only remember it from the internet—would get a significant share of the profits.

"The larger the ship, the better. The load a ship can carry increases with the cube of its size, while the resistance it faces increases with the square of its size. Therefore, the larger the ship, the more fuel-efficient it becomes, reducing transportation costs."

"………"

Sorry, I let that one ear out. Anyway, bigger is better.

"Ahem, so how is the construction of the Great Western coming along? You can't fall behind the Mangles & Sons, can you?"

"Absolutely not. Don't worry. The SS Great Western will be the first steamship to cross the Atlantic, and I'll stake my name on it."

"Well… as a good shareholder, my job is to trust and wait, but some of the other shareholders are starting to have doubts. If it weren't for the last design change, we wouldn't be competing with the latecomer, the SS Sirius, would we?"

"You're the one who instilled in me the belief that propeller propulsion is better than paddle wheels."

"Did I ever threaten to withhold funds if you used paddle wheels? You were the one who changed the design from paddle wheels to propellers."

"Using a less advanced technology when a better one is available is a sin for an engineer."

"The navy prefers propeller propulsion over paddle wheels because it's harder to target and easier to mount guns on the deck. But we're a commercial shipping company. Of course, we could sell patents to the navy or build warships for them later. Anyway, if we're later than Sirius, investors will be disappointed, won't they? I understand your difficulties, but…."

"On the name of Brunel, that will never happen. Don't worry. I'll work through the night and hire twice as many workers if I have to, to win."

"That's the spirit. In business, the first-mover advantage is powerful. Look at me, by staking my claim with the Sherlock Holmes series, I've made it so that anything that comes after is considered a derivative work."

"That's because you wrote so well, Sir. No exaggeration, it's a masterpiece that will last a thousand years, if not more."

Well, the Sherlock Holmes series is indeed an incredible masterpiece. It might last not just a thousand, but two or three thousand years.

"If we can be the first to cross the Atlantic, then there will be nowhere that steamships can't go."

"The Indian and Pacific Oceans have many ports, so with enough coal, steamships can operate efficiently. If we can cross the Atlantic, where can't we go?"

"The Atlantic doesn't have many good ports, so you're right. The dream of circumnavigating the world by steamship isn't far-fetched. It might be possible to circle the globe in two or three months."

"That's my dream."

Brunel said this while affectionately stroking the parts of the engine, whose purpose was unknown.

"I plan to take a trip on your ship when I have the time, so make sure it's sturdy and doesn't sink. It's such a large ship, I'm worried about the keel holding up."

"I've made many improvements to the keel. I share your concerns. For a keel over 300 feet (200 meters) long…."

Well, I shouldn't have said that.

Due to my inability to distinguish between what to say and what not to say, I was trapped in a 3-hour and 30-minute lecture on engineering terms that Brunel couldn't possibly understand before I could finally escape.

***

"Sigh. Lila,"

"Yes, Master."

"Today was a real ear-ache."

"Ahaha."

"Better to go to Parliament and stab someone. Though legally, entering Parliament in armor is punishable by beheading, and dying in Parliament is illegal."

"…. Then how do they punish you? If dying is illegal, do they execute the dead person? Or put the corpse in jail?"

"Who knows? How can I know what people thought 500 years ago? I think it was a law enacted in 1313 or something."

"Ah, but did you hear the news?"

"What news?"

"About the new work."

"When I hear about my writing, it's usually not a good sign."

There's a saying that no news is good news. If the writing is going well, there's no need to say much; the cash from the royalties tells the story.

"There seems to be a bit of a… leak about the basic setting."

"Leak?"

I frowned.

"Who?"

"It seems to have leaked from the company, but…."

Her delicate hand pointed to the world map.

"Here and here."

The Bering Strait and the Strait of Gibraltar.

"Hey, wait…."

"The leaked information is related to this."

Through this incident, I've realized something.

I shouldn't judge these people by common sense.

"So, are there really people who want to do that?"

"…To some extent, yes."

At that moment, a shout came from afar.

"Extra! Extra!"

"His Majesty is in critical condition!"

***

"Sir Henry! Sir Henry! Bring him! I'm dying! Oh God! What is this!"

Fifteen minutes after the cry echoed through Windsor Castle.

The king was clearly in his final moments.

His clothes were stained with blood from his bowels, evidence of massive internal bleeding.

The servants and doctors hurriedly wiped away the clotted blood, but the deterioration was evident.

With calcified arteries and a tumor in his abdomen, the debauched king was beyond saving, even by the best doctors.

"Oh God…."

A groan, not quite a word, escaped the king's lips.

That was it.

The end of the era of George IV.

***

Lila looked at her master.

The Viscount Gentian, who had been engrossed for nearly 14 hours, was rapidly writing.

When the paper ran out, she brought a new stack, and when the ink ran low, she brought a new bottle and refilled the used ones. Ensuring he didn't skip meals was her duty.

"Master, have your meal."

"Leave it."

"This time, it's not a sandwich. Go downstairs and eat."

A sandwich and a drink are fine for her to bring up, but if he relies on sandwiches for more than two meals a day, it's a problem.

Of course, from the perspective of a busy viscount, he might just want to be given whatever is asked for, but the viscount was firm on this point.

He must eat two meals a day at the table.

"What time is it…? Oh?"

The viscount, who had started working at dawn, was surprised to see the clock pointing to 8 PM.

"Wait, did I eat…."

"You went straight to work after breakfast and had a sandwich for lunch. It's time for dinner."

"Ugh, alright, I was about to finish today's quota."

"Finish it after you eat."

"Alright. Can I have the newspaper?"

"Madam Countess hates reading the newspaper at the table, you know?"

"By now, she's probably already eaten and praying, isn't she?"

"That's true."

"Anyway, I am hungry. What's for dinner tonight?"

"The usual."

The viscount, holding the newspaper, muttered.

"Hmm, as expected."

Recently, George IV, who supported the Poor Law, had passed away.

With William IV, the heir, ascending the throne, the Poor Law lost its strong supporter.

William IV clearly argued that the Poor Law was unchristian and unethical, and this became a tool for the already numerically superior opposition to attack the supporters, following the viscount's official statement.

"Luckily, the passage of the Poor Law has been halted. I don't know if the new work helped, but…."

"That's good."

"But it's tough."

I sighed.

"Why do so many people mix up fiction and reality? Fiction is just fiction, ahaha, this setting is interesting, it's plausible, and move on. What's the harm?"

"People who do that wouldn't send letters to 221B Baker Street. By the way, you should write a new Sherlock Holmes story, too."

"Damn."

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