A/N: Views expressed by characters in this fiction are not representative of the author's opinion.

Success or failure of certain political stances in the fiction do not reflect the author's opinion of their success in real life.

"Scout squad fourteen, Kobel reporting!"

"Report Kobel. And you better have a good explanation for those Fukas," Curasym asked the Guard standing in front of him.

The squad leader looked at the three Fukas standing at the back of the debriefing room and sighed, "These are Ryulo, Aleas and Danine. They're the effective leaders of the Fukas in Corbin and were a great assistance in our efforts. "

"You better start from the top then," Curasym leaned back in his chair. The secretary on the side desk shuffled in a new sheet of paper pointedly.

"As you know, my squad and three others were in Corbin on light patrol when the riots started. Corbin used the chaos to trap us into the central square of the town. As Ryulo tells me, the Fukas had also barricaded their section of town in the north and were under attack. This lasted for four days until the siege on us in the central square lifted enough for us to break out. This allowed us to escape encirclement but we were pursued through the town and broken up until we reached the Fuka blockade. "

"We weren't going to let them through at first but Kobel explained that he was working under Minmay," Ryulo said, "he offered to be disarmed and held prisoner to guarantee his squad's behaviour. "

Curasym nodded at Kobel to continue his narration.

"So, the three squads following me joined the Fukas on their defenses. We repelled four separate attacks and nearly eighty attackers until the First division had occupied the town and relieved us," Kobel said, "in our defence of the Fuka street, we estimate about twenty of the rioters were killed and more injured but no confirmed counts. You already have our injury list. Luckily no one on our end died after the escape from the siege. "

The Commander of the Guards nodded again. "So, how does that explain the Fukas?" he asked.

"Sir, during the brief defense of the Fuka's barricade, our Guards received six injuries, one serious. During the entire defense of their own barricade, the Fukas suffered only one serious injury. No deaths," Kobel glanced at Ryulo who nodded in confirmation, "to be honest sir, the Fukas are incredible fighters. They're all masters at using Em! And Ryulo's bow here has penetration that rivals the new model guns.

I recommend we recruit them into the Guards. They are a formidable fighting force now, and will be an incredible asset given training. Cato is partial to the Fukas, I'm sure he will support this if we need to convince Minmay. "

Curasym raised an eyebrow, "are you sure? They're just Fukas, you know? Maybe they got lucky?"

Ryulo looked at Aleas who clapped a hand on Danine's shoulder to stop her from speaking up. Curasym noted the action but chose to ignore it.

Kobel coughed. "Sir, the Fukas are beyond capable. They have inhuman reaction times and Ems give them strength and durability beyond anything you can expect. And they have incredible fighting instincts. Even young Danine here will easily beat any man in a bare hand fight. I saw her tear a woman's face off with her fingers. We have to have them. "

Kobel drew a small hand crossbow, a light version captured from Corbin's forces. With a nod to Danine, he pulled it to half draw and fired a dart. The dart shattered on her arm at point blank range and peppered the wall behind her.

Danine merely rubbed her arm and grinned at Curasym's shock, her tail twitching proudly. Kobel smiled back, "the same trick allows them to jump across roofs and scale walls with ease. I personally saw feats like this performed routinely. Ryulo himself has caught blades and knives with his bare hands and pulls a bow so powerful that it can only fire iron arrows. Their hearing and eyesight are better than humans too, I think. They will be excellent independent operators for scouting and special missions. "

"You want them to be scouts?" Curasym asked.

"Yes, sir. I believe they have much they can contribute," Kobel nodded.

Curasym rocked back in his chair, considering the request. After a long moment, he adjusted his formal Commander's jacket and shrugged, "alright. I will get the required approvals from above to accept Fukas into a special scout unit. And you, Kobel, are going to be responsible for it. "

Kobel bowed formally in acceptance.

"Um, we still haven't discussed the terms," Ryulo interrupted, "and you can't just conscript us. I won't allow it. "

"It will be voluntary, like your employment with the Ironworkers," Curasym waved a hand dismissively, "take your time. Despite the fact that active operations are still in progress, we have no use for people not trained in our procedures. Since he likes you so much, I will let Kobel discuss the terms. "

Aleas calmed Danine down with a squeeze of her hand. Kobel nodded gratefully at her as they left. No point antagonizing the Commander when he was already prejudiced against Fukas.

The Guard looked at him nervously, "are you sure you should be here, sir?"

Curasym just looked at the Guard until she wilted and ducked back behind the spell cannon barrel.

"That's Corbin's mansion?" he asked the on-site commander. They really had to work out some form of rank structure. He couldn't just keep calling the person in charge a commander when it was also his own formal position.

"Yes sir, she has about two platoons by our count defending the place. Wands and bowguns. They're her best armed people. We've surrounded them and the adjacent streets have been evacuated," the commander said, "they'll be expecting us to storm the place or give terms. "

"Spell cannons?"

"Three here, concealed and signature screened," the commander confirmed.

Curasym paused before giving the order. He was about to personally command the deliberate killing of a major noble of Minmay's region. This would be the first true strike against the old aristocratic order, the first step towards fulfilling Minmay's reforms. But he knew Minmay and the Chancellor would always take responsibility for his actions.

Not that it would help any of the first platoon of the First Division if the King got his hands on them.

Curasym inhaled and nodded at the commander. "Load forcebolt in the spellcannon and target the foundations. Once fired, our platoons will storm the place. Take no prisoners. "

Messengers sped away to inform the squads picketing the streets in the wealthy district. It was time to drastically reduce the value of the property here.

"Fire when you're ready, commander. "

"The last six villages have declared for you, they even attacked and forced the last remaining rebellious group in their area into submission," Arthur read.

"The Guards are deployed on every street corner and more arrests and interrogations are being made," Minmay muttered. He considered the situation for a while longer. "I think the rebellion is effectively over. If the peasants themselves are attacking the rioters, I can say that we have the support of the majority. "

Minmay put down the reports and gestured at the teapot on the nearby trolley. The butler bowed and poured a cup of steaming tea that Minmay received gratefully.

"How are the barons? Will they accept the changes?" Minmay asked.

"They are unhappy but they accept it. No one can stand up to the Guards now," Arthur said.

"No one other than Ektal, you mean," Minmay said, "the King is raising his own army. Even if they're still mostly knights and don't have the new model guns, he's still dangerous. "

"Do you think he will attack you, sir?"

"No. He can't afford to. Our power is still evenly matched and if he does try, any battle would be disastrous for either of us," Minmay mused, "he may suspect that the peasants supporting me can be recruited into a militia. If so, I am actually likely to win any such battle in the short term. "

And in the long term, who knew what else the University might invent? Landar was a veritable gold mine of magical weapon ideas.

"What about the Order of Knights?"

"The Order are not going to move," Minmay put down his half empty cup. Arthur refilled it and added just the right amount of yama jam. "Their participation in the rebellion has heavily damaged their reputation. I can force Hino to restructure the way the Order works in this region. I will replace the commission system and hire all the knights on permanent retainer, there will be no more hiring of swords and spells. Instead, the knights are expected to keep the peace and cooperate to defeat monsters. If need be, I'll abolish the entire Order and absorb any who want to continue as a separate Guard division. With the power the Guards give me, I will force them to obey. "

"Doesn't that violate the Rule of Arms?"

"At this point, I think everyone is violating the spirit of the Rule, even the queen herself. The Greater Council will protest and declaim but no one can effectively move against us in the short term. In the longer term? They'll have peasants to worry about and if they don't break the Rule of Arms themselves, I won't have to worry about them afterwards," Minmay tapped the table, thinking. "I am considering placing the knights under the command of a different office. This rebellion has allowed me to consolidate power into the Chancellor's position. There are no more Mayors, and the barons are nothing more than local governors I can replace at will. The towns and even the cities of Duport only have administrators whose power stem from me instead of an aristocratic position. "

"There is no counterbalance to the office of the Chancellor," Minmay concluded.

"You are going to create one?" Arthur looked a little worried. Anyone would be worried, no noble would normally give away power.

"Yes. Cato explained to me before, the various styles of government Earth had used and I think now I understand the lesson he was trying to impart. While the Chancellorship will have to remain the most powerful office, one person cannot rule an entire region by themselves," Minmay nodded, "indeed, during the Firestorm, Cato explained that Minmay needed a government. I understand now that he did not mean that more Recordkeepers were needed, although they have been helpful. Simply that I alone have only one perspective, and I cannot account for all the factors that governing a region requires. "

Minmay paused to sip his cup of tea.

"So I will create a Lesser Circle," Minmay said, "a group of people who have a specific domain of work and manage the day to day business of making sure Minmay runs smoothly. One of those seats will be the administrator of a police force, in charge of commanding what is now the knights. The knights' duties will be to uphold the law and will thus be armed just like the Guards. While the Guards perform an overlapping function, the knights are not under the direct command of the Chancellor and will remain separate. Indeed, I will expect the knights to focus on enforcing the rules of the Circle itself, even against the Chancellor, if need be in the future. "

"The Greater Circle will be the governors and barons of each of the areas?"

"Indeed. In a way, this will be a smaller version of the Federation Council, but with more power in the office of the Chancellor. A structure that everyone is familiar with, but still different. " The Chancellor drained his cup. "I will call the prospective Lesser Circle soon, we will need to draft rules and create a vision for what Minmay will be like. Including what our stance towards Ektal should be. "

The Chancellor nodded. Then he winced as he thought of the upcoming conversation, "but first, I'm sure Cato will have something to say about all this. "

"So. The peasants don't matter? Because you can kill them any time you want?"

Cato's voice dripped with bitterness. Minmay sat in his chair looking back with a stony face.

In between them, the plate of sandwiches cut to picnic size was untouched.

The Chancellor sighed, "I ordered them to be killed because they do matter. If the rebel guild craftsmen were allowed to arm the peasants, they would have destroyed everything you worked for. "

"The slaughter was excessive, you did not have to order the Guards to shoot at innocent civilians," Cato said flatly, "and what about the guilds? And removing the mayors?"

"An opportunity like this will not come again," Minmay closed his eyes, "the guilds were the original instigators. And the position of mayor is less important now. Killing Corbin and Selabia was a trade, their lives for stability. It was a choice that only the Chancellor could make. "

The Chancellor took a long pull from his drink before continuing, "and I wonder how you can consider the peasants innocent. They took up arms, they burned buildings, they shot and killed the Guards. That was the only way to stop them. "

"You were the one who put plants to instigate them into rebelling!"

"And they would have rebelled sooner or later," Minmay said, "the Ironworkers were bribing the gangs and stirring up discontent. Not even I can believe that developing these new factories of yours can solve the shortage of work in a sufficiently short time. Many of these disaffected peasants are already returning to the countryside to settle new villages. And this problem will only get worse as the farming tools increase beyond one set per village. "

"Shooting peasants with military weapons isn't going to solve the problem. On Earth, what we learned was that shooting people with guns leads to them shooting you back," Cato sighed, "I could tell you more about real political events and what happened there. "

"This isn't Earth, Cato," Minmay countered, "your notions of justice aren't applicable here. Of course the rioters were killed, this has always been the law. Rebellion is treason, for which the penalty is death. And you should note that the very same peasants also support me and citizen informants pointed out where trouble spots were. The faction loyal to me is large, and most of the rest are indifferent. "

"They were civilians. Rioting yes, but not enemies like how your Guards treated them. I can understand the use of the new model guns but spell cannons are not for suppression. They're army weapons!"

"They were armed sufficient enough to inflict casualties on the Guards. Surely you don't think the Guards should risk their lives to coddle armed criminals, gangs and worse," Minmay snapped back, "the moment they picked up weapons, they turned into enemy combatants and should be treated as such. "

The two men glared at each other. To a large extent, Minmay knew what Cato was talking about. Escalation of force lead to casualties, which lead to further hate and divisions. And they both knew what each other were thinking.

"Let us take a step back," Cato said finally, "tell me, what do you want to do with the Minmay region? What is it you envision for the future?"

"I want to make the territory stable. You told me of the structure of Earth's governments after that Firestorm," Minmay said, "that was when I realized that this feudal power structure we have is a recipe for disaster. The lack of unity prevents us from getting anything done. Each noble aristocrat has their own agenda, their own political goals. This leaves little concern for the peasants and general population. With the peasantry soon to become a powerful force, this is not a good thing. "

"Doesn't the concentration of power into the Chancellor's position run counter to your original goal? A corrupt Chancellor in your position will do massive amounts of harm. It might even take a peasant revolt to unseat him," Cato pointed out.

"I have plans to mitigate that. I will create a government based on the model of the Federation's Council," Minmay explained, "the Chancellorship will represent the region and the people, and command the Guards. But I will create a Lesser Circle that will wield real power, including command of the knights. The Circle will advise the Chancellor and ensure the Chancellor's decrees are carried out. "

"The power will not be balanced," Cato said, "you just brutally massacred a riot with the Guards. How can mere advisors and administrators oppose military power? The knights can't stand up to you. Not even if they were united. "

"Then we can fix it later, once everyone is used to a centralized government," Minmay snapped back then took a few calming breaths. "I'm giving you a seat on the Lesser Circle, your input as to how to do that will be respected. "

"Working with a Chancellor who can casually order the deaths of his own citizens-"

"Don't! Don't provoke me Cato," Minmay interrupted with a snarl, "you might have your ideas about how the countries of Earth respond to unrest. But I know how this world works. Inath is not Earth and leaving rioters to run amok will not work! Those wimpy theories will only serve to encourage them by making the Chancellorship look weak! And then we really will have a civil war!"

"Are you going to object to the clearing of the criminal slums too? To centralize my power, I cannot tolerate a criminal underground funded by smuggling, theft and worse. Are you going to say that letting those hooligans continue to terrorize my citizens is the correct thing to do? The Guards are strong enough for me to finally clear the cities and towns of organized crime, are you going to object to their inevitable death sentences? " Minmay jerked an accusatory finger back down to his side, still fighting to control his temper. "And don't you think for a single moment that it was easy seeing the results of those orders. "

The two men stared at each other across the table. It was only now that the full gulf between their philosophies was becoming clear. And to both, it was apparent that the gap was very large.

"I think the riots have been very stressful to both of us," Cato said finally, "the structure of a state should not be discussed behind closed doors like this. I will see what advice I can give on the Lesser Circle. "

Minmay swore and bit into a sandwich piece as the door swung closed.

"Was that wise, sir?" Arthur said, appearing behind his Chancellor. Silently, like any good butler.

"Cato is too idealistic," Minmay sighed finally, "he has vision. But sometimes I doubt what he sees in his mind can be real. "

"He has great accomplishments. "

Minmay glanced at his butler. The man was replacing his cup of tea with a new steaming hot one. "Technical and scientific brilliance does not translate into an ability to understand how to govern a country," the Chancellor crunched down another bite of sandwich, "I understand why those systems happened in his world, or at least I think do. But even a universal rule of law that he views as fundamental can be impractical depending on circumstances. And ours are one of those. I'll never get the cities safe and crime free if I had to prove criminality in trials. It's a system of his world, of his circumstance. Not a universal principle. "

"You think that Earth is a much more stable place?"

"Yes. Even with my newfound power, I doubt I can make Minmay as safe as the worst of their cities. Cato is never afraid to walk after dark, he doesn't think of eliminating competition by using organized crime. It simply doesn't occur to him that such things are possible. " Minmay sighed as he finished the much needed cup of tea.

Arthur refilled the cup silently.

"How much in debt are we?" Minmay asked finally.

"We owe the Minmay Bank nearly three hundred Rimes. "

"And that's not counting the amount of favours I had to trade just to make this happen," Minmay sighed, "and the number of enemies I had to pressure or just eliminate outright with the Guards. "

"The monthly income tax and the upcoming off-harvest should pay it off. "

"Indeed. Despite the debt, I think I will not have cause to regret promising to subsidize the factory training programs," Minmay noted, "I hope at some later date, the Chancellor won't have to resort to using bribes just to make his city work. "

The Chancellor ate his lunch without further interruptions.

"Prepare my carriage, Arthur, I think I need a walk to clear my thoughts. "

The graveyard was somber and quiet. Minmay wandered through it, stopping to examine a treasured belonging here and there. Placing an item the person had treasured in life was a gesture of respect for the dead. For those who had relatives to grant them any.

Despite the black mood, the weather refused to cooperate. A brightly shining sun and twittering birds formed a mismatching backdrop to the long trench of the mass grave. In front of it, the rows of graves containing identified bodies lay out in neat lines with fresh green grass growing between them. A complete counter to the chaos that had enveloped the entire city. And in front of that, lay a row of smaller rectangles. Thirty four children dead in the fighting. And this was only in Minmay city.

They weighed upon the land like a blight. A stain, and a price.

Minmay continued his walk into the rioters' section, cheered on by the birds. The two thousand dead were laid out in a vast square of graves. The regular mounds of earth blended together into a mass that stretched all the way to the east road.

"Chancellor?"

The speaker was an old wrinkled man, hunched over a simple wooden cane. The dirt on his clothing told the Chancellor that he had just been kneeling in the grass. Judging from the hammer placed against the grave mound, the old man had been visiting.

Minmay looked at the grave, just one out of many. One unimportant person on the wrong side. But no less human for it.

"Who was this person?" he asked.

The old man turned back to the grave. "My daughter. Ironworker senior apprentice. "

"How did she die?"

The old man paused before replying, "burnt by firebolt. A shot to the head. "

Minmay winced internally, glad that his political experience kept his face neutral. Fire was one of the most painful ways to go, and you didn't even leave a presentable body afterwards.

"I wonder if this cost is worth what I am trying to do. But even facing all of this," he gestured out over the graveyard, "I think I would make the same choice again, given the chance. "

There was a patter of feet and a younger woman approached them between the rows carrying a bracelet.

"You!" the woman glared at Minmay.

Minmay held up a delaying hand at the same time as the old man whacked her with his cane, proving to be rather less frail than Minmay imagined.

"Pay some respect to the Chancellor!" the old man snapped, stopping her from approaching the Chancellor.

She shot back hotly, "he's the one who got little sis killed!"

"And if you haven't noticed yet, the Guards have been watching him from all sides. I will not have him add another grave to this place. "

Minmay lowered his hand. Just when he thought she was beginning to cool down, the woman burst into tears and collapsed onto the grass.

Without any expression on his face, Minmay watched the woman cry for her dead sister while her father hugged her and comforted her gently.

After a long time, the old man got up wearily onto his cane. "I would not like you to have misunderstandings, sir," the old man brushed back a hint of tears, "hard decisions had to be made, and you made your choices. My daughter made hers, and it turned out to be the wrong one. You are the Chancellor, so I hope you can make the right ones, for all of us. "

With that said, the old man helped his daughter place the bracelet on the grave next to the hammer and led her away.

Minmay watched them go until they left the graveyard. Then he turned on his heels and made his way back to his waiting coach.

"The peasant uprising in the Minmay region has been quashed. "

"Well, it was a long shot, and too far away to meddle with much. "

"My king, what will you do?"

"Nothing. Remove our tracks, make sure nothing can be traced back to us. "

"Already in motion. What about Minmay's Guards?"

"At least we know better what they can do. What these new weapons can do. And that peasant rebellions aren't as scary as Minmay thought. ... You may go. "

Cato looked at the Borehole. The depth had reached the targeted five hundred meter mark yesterday. Unceremoniously, the construction was hastily completed despite the arrests and general panic.

A major project completed, probably the most important project even if its importance had been diminished by the Ironworker's magic compression steam engines. And without the fanfare or grand opening day that Cato had envisioned.

The walls had been magically enchanted using spellplates specially made for this purpose. The metal tube extending downwards had been sealed at the bottom with an experimental welding technique but he couldn't see it, the metal walls just seemed to go down into the inky blackness.

Cato could faintly sense the stream of power surging out from the five meter wide hole in the ground. To others with better magic sense, they might actually feel it pushing on their lifeforce. It wasn't as if any particular section was dense but the constant flow out of the ground was like a slow and steady river.

Such an achievement should be acknowledged, the people and miners who gave their effort and sometimes blood to build this should be appreciated with more than just money. People ought to know what they had done here, how much this would change things. But the riots had shown certain University projects to be unpopular and the Borehole was one of them, for taking away the easy money of the magic power trade. Minmay wouldn't risk having this expensive thing get damaged, although how one damaged a hole in the ground was hard to imagine.

The problem now was how to use this. They had a renewable source of magical power and when the metal cover was placed over the release hole, it generated enough power to cast a ritual summon every ten minutes. Anyone could easily see how the new machines currently powered by magical crystals could benefit from using the Borehole.

Getting the magic there was more difficult than he initially imagined. They could start enchanting the ground, no difficulties in getting the power to do that, but a power line quickly ran into problems. Namely, the speed of magic was only about ten meters per second, and this applied both to moving spells, signals and raw magical power. And distance caused losses as the power drained away over time like any normal spell.

Storing the power by binding it with alchemy incurred huge losses, magic circle alchemy was still not as efficient as what humans could do, but even the human best record of about two thirds loss was still high. The same losses would be incurred if the power was bound and then transferred via enchanted ground. Losses that Cato wanted to avoid if possible.

"Oh, Cato, you're early!"

Bashal's ever cheerful voice cut through the morning quietness. Cato turned away from the hole and looked at the Ironworker... researcher? Bashal's position might as well be that now. Still, how was this man so cheerful even after the recent disaster?

"You called me here to show me something?" Cato asked, "I recall you said you could solve the power distribution problems. "

The big Ironworker loomed over Cato as the cart approached. Even his arms were easily half the size of Cato's thighs, bigger than most Ironworkers despite the understandable workout they got. He gestured at the cart and his apprentices began to unload metal pieces off the cart, tube sections, rings and other more esoteric pieces. Some of them glowed with magical power.

"Indeed, rejoice, for we have our own solution!" Bashal grinned, "without your help this time. "

He jerked a head towards the steam engines that had been running the drainage pumps up until yesterday. Three apprentices began to disconnect the piston from the pump and the others began to assemble a new contraption beside the steam engine.

They efficiently assembled a magic compression engine right there beside the Borehole. While they did that, Bashal explained, filling the air with waving arms and exuberant gestures.

"You see, I was investigating how to improve the efficiency of our compression engine. As you know, high magical density allows us to generate power, the higher the density, the more magical power generated. So the obvious thing to do was to compress the magic as far as it would go. We discovered that the denser the magic in a container, the harder it gets to compress it further and the more power we get out of it. In fact, I suspect that the force required is exactly proportional to the power gained. Naturally, this means the most inefficient part of the compression is when the density of magic is the lowest, we lose virtually all our power to friction in the steam engine.

Well, in any case, I was using compressed magic from one steam engine as feed for another when I realized I had your solution instead!" Bashal pointed at Cato dramatically.

Cato nodded, this much was making sense so far. But Bashal hadn't yet explained what this had to do with transporting power.

"What is that?" Bashal shifted his finger to the stream of magic escaping the Borehole, "it's dense magic! Just like the compressed magic that comes out of our magic compression engines!"

Bashal swung back to the half-assembled magic compression engine, "and what we have here, is an engine that will compress ambient magic and shove it out the side here, into any container you want. Even a steel bottle! It is simple, magic density itself stores power, you can just bottle it up and transport it by cart! You can just put the high density magic from the Borehole into bottles and use it. "

Cato frowned. It was a good idea, but there was still one serious problem. "The magic density of the Borehole isn't high enough," Cato said, "from what we know, this level of magic density in a spell cannon's power box only generates a bit more than eleven power units. That's not nearly high enough to transport it by cart. "

"And therefore, what we will do is use the Borehole as a source of medium grade magic density! As feed for the compression engines!" Bashal gestured at the engine, where the apprentices were trying to coax the enchanted intake pipe into the Borehole. "This will let us skip the most inefficient portion of the compression and allow us to use the least fuel for the most magic density gains! And we'll sell compressed magic, instead of raw magical power. "

Cato had to admit it, Bashal was on the right track. "So, have you tried compressing magic density? How high can you get it?"

Bashal grinned and went to the cart and brought out a small hollow cylinder, not much larger than a half liter soft drink bottle. It had an input hole that had been melted shut to seal it. "I've compressed magic into this bottle as far as it will go, by some very expensive staging. Any more and the enchantments start to break. "

Cato could certainly see that. The steel cylinder was glowing with power, all of it building a ridiculously dense magical barrier. The enchantment was at the limit of what steel would support without losing power.

"This magic density, if used to generate heat, is about the same as shovelful of coal. It did cost me nearly an entire cart to fill this but hey, we don't need this level of compression," Bashal said, "there will need to be some experiments, to find a good balance between the fuel efficiency and the density of energy, but I am confident this can solve the problem. And as far as I can tell, bottled magic density does not leak. Not quickly anyway, I noticed no change even after leaving this bottle for a week. We could store power for years without losing too much. "

Cato thought for a moment, estimating it in his head. A soft drink bottle sized container held about five hundred power units plus or minus a hundred, factoring in inefficiency in heating with coal. And obviously commercial use would deliver it in larger containers. Yes, it was workable if the compression efficiency wasn't too bad.

Or he could just sidestep the problem. Contained magical density didn't bleed energy? That was a perfect way to transport it.

"Or what we can do," Cato swept a hand over the city, "is enchant a small pipe to contain the density from this Borehole and just pipe the magical density around the city. We can just piggyback on Muller's water pipes. Enchant his pipes before he lays them and have them carry water and magic. We'll need to dig them all up again though. Who cares if the Borehole density isn't that high, you can just tap it continuously. Or request a larger pipe if you're not getting enough. "

It was almost like gas piping on Earth. He glanced at Bashal and noticed the man looking a little sad.

Cato smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't look like that, the idea is still good!" Cato said, "have you noticed? This little cylinder contains more power than steel staffs can store, for less weight and size. That has more applications than just powering factories. The Guard will be interested in it, and anyone who needs a mobile power source. Power for spellforming wands? Or portable machines like mining drills? Lights? Firestarters? With a pipe from the Borehole, you can still run your magic compression engines using the Borehole's magic as input. "

Bashal smiled back. Yes, portable magic density as power storage was still useful where the grid could not reach.

They looked at the Borehole with new eyes. An infrastructure like a cross between gas and electric power. A magical infrastructure, even if it wasn't quite like the enchanted ground Cato had imagined.

This would change the world. Again.

"I'm thinking about how to build a spell compiler, a template of templates so to speak," Landar said, trying to twirl the pencil around her fingers but failing. "We have a thread to generate each type of magical effect and we can tie them to each other to chain them but the threads already abstract the process of doing all this. "

She dropped the pencil and stared glumly at it. "It was all so clear, I knew what I had to do, but now all I can remember is little bits and snatches," Landar sighed, "if only I just... go crazy on demand. "

That earned her a glare from Cato sitting across the table.

"It'll only take a week to make one, at most," Landar pouted.

"A week of that is enough to kill you," Cato retorted.

And the worst part was that he was right, she hadn't even felt exhausted until he made her sleep. And then Landar had proceeded to sleep through the entire first portion of the riot.

"What I think we need to do is to abstract the placement and logical links," Cato said, "currently, we put effects in a specific spot in the enchantment by making sure the effect the thread creates reaches the correct enchanter with the correct depth signal reaching it at the same time. As you know, this timing issue causes the majority of our problems. So if your spell compiler could allow us to just put the effect, location and depth signal you want next to each other, like a paired instruction, then that would make creating spells much simpler. "

Landar nodded, "indeed, enchantments would become just row after row of threads, no more tangles. And the threads themselves are just signal threads, no need to make threads that can create effects. The template creator can receive the effect type, location and depth signals, create the effect and send it to the correct enchanter accordingly. Some effects would need additional inputs for parameters, like length or size. "

"Instead of endless rows, I was thinking about your template of templates while you slept," Cato said, "what I'm thinking is this term we have called a pointer. We already use it in the main control line, but instead of a single direction from start to end, I'm thinking of giving a group of effect instructions it's own control line. Then the active point of the line can be passed around between individual groups to execute a group of threads over and over again instead of requiring one group per time you want to run it. "

"I don't see how that helps. The threads won't change, so you'll just end up with identical effects on the same spot," Landar pointed out, "which won't work. They'll just interfere with each other and break down. "

"Ah but there's the beauty of it, I'm thinking that the threads that control the location, depth or even parameters of the effect can be relative," Cato said. He picked up Landar's dropped pencil and began sketching, "a special thread that says, take the number stored in a special place that I will call a 'register' and use that number to determine the location, depth or parameter. We'll have to decide what numbers make sense and how to store it but it can be done. I think the circuit diagram would look something like this. "

Landar looked at the diagram. For spells that re-used a single group of effects, like spell boundaries, timers or firebolt warheads, this could be helpful to further simplify matters. Oh, but then they'd have to be able to change the numbers inside with an instruction thread, like a thread that meant add one to the number, which you could stick at the end of the group of effect threads.

In a flash, she realized what Cato was building towards. This was the same idea he had brought to her all those weeks ago!

She sighed and smiled at him, "alright, you win. Fine, I see the point of that... 'computer' you wanted. "

Cato looked her blankly.

Landar blinked. Surely he hadn't forgotten? She shot a glare at him.

"Right, yes, that. The computer," Cato gulped, "I recall you saying it was not feasible. "

"Certainly not then," Landar said, "do you have any idea how difficult this register will be to make? The compiler will need to access it. And I doubt a single number in the register will be enough, there will be more than one stored number you need access to. Without magic circles, we had no hope of making a compiler and I suspect a register will be impossible without a compiler. "

Cato nodded in agreement.

"Still this doesn't explain what I was thinking about, with the template of templates. You said that was similar to 'object oriented programming', what does that even mean?" Landar asked.

Cato scratched his cheek and frowned, "we'll have to start from the idea of a call stack first. I don't really know how this thing works in our computers, I wasn't a computer scientist, but I do know how functions work in our programming. So let me work it out as we go along. "

He began to draw and explain.

Ten minutes later, Landar was regretting asking. Her buried genius side might have seen it all in a flash of inspiration, but this tower of logic was too big to fit into her normal head. And Cato was saying that this was just functions and not really true object oriented programming.

"Wait wait Cato," she held up a hand to interrupt him, "you're going too fast. You want a... register of registers? So that the groups of effect threads can 'call' each other like the brackets in those algebra equations you had me do?"

It all made sense, in a almost too big to understand sort of way. Landar had no idea what sort of twisted and sick problem required this much abstraction but she sure didn't want to meet it. She must have said as much, because Cato raised an eyebrow.

"You had those self-aiming wands back in our house right?" Cato said, "now imagine you can't use those precalibrated sensor tiles. You have two magical power detectors, which report the angle they point and the amount of power they detect. You know how far apart they are and the angle the detectors are pointing in. How would you detect, track and calculate what angle to shoot your disruption bolt?"

And this was a problem Landar had posed to herself too. She hadn't really known the answer then, she only knew it was solvable. But... in the clearer light of normality, Landar was beginning to see the true magnitude of the problem she had set herself. She could calculate the range and direction using geometry Cato had taught her, but that required at least a timer and two measurements, and that would have to be fed into the...

"Yes, I see, I have to use the same calculations over and over, that's where the functions come in," Landar said. And it would help a lot if a big controlling function could call the smaller ones, like a function that rotated a sensor. "But that means you want to put a stack and the... calculator, into the final spell?!" she asked.

Cato nodded, "yes, indeed, eventually we'll have spells so complicated we need to do that. "

Landar could feel her own stack in her head getting smashed. She tried to think of all the layers that would be needed and literally lost track. "I... I can't even think of everything needed at the same time," she whispered, feeling a little horrified now.

"Neither can I. That's why we'll have to build things upwards. And this is peanuts compared to object oriented programming," Cato said, a little too smugly.

Landar shook her head helplessly, "you know, I'm tempted to call on my better half just to make sense of this. "

She winced at the look on his face.

"No Landar, you really shouldn't do that," Cato sighed, "I mean. Do you even know what it does to you? You were so weak that day you could barely even stand straight!"

She tugged on her hair stubbornly, "but everything was so clear. I could just see it! All of this! It was all so easy and I could just build and build. " And it was so much fun! Landar always regretted the tiredness and hunger when she came out of her trance though, that part wasn't fun at all.

"But you go off into your own little world when you do that, you don't see anything other than the project you are working on," Cato said, "it feels like you have been replaced. That you're not... you. "

Landar sighed. It was true. She didn't feel like herself when she was in that state. And honestly, she knew it was very bad for herself. But that clarity and sheer boundless energy, the certainty that everything was right, was intoxicating. She still wished that she could feel it again.

Should she tell him now? People always called her weird in the past, she was the Mad Alchemist after all.

"What if I can't stop it?" Landar asked, more softly this time, "I mean, I don't know what triggers it. If anything, this planning we just did for the compiler should have brought that inspiration. But it didn't. "

They sat there quietly for a long moment. Then Cato took her hand, "I'll be there to make sure you survive it. "

His hand was warm. And reassuring. "Cato," Landar gulped and continued, "I've actually had this for a long time. Um. You know the Knights talk about my 'specials' and there was that robot I tried to build? It wasn't this bad before I met you, I never forgot to sleep. But I occasionally go a little bit... crazy and make complicated things that sometimes don't work. "

"That explains certain things, yes," Cato nodded, "has it been getting worse?"

"I haven't had an episode this bad until last week," Landar said, "but no, I have still been getting smaller bouts. I just didn't mention them. "

"I'll be here," Cato said, "and I hope eventually, we'll know enough about chemistry to make mood calming drugs too. Don't hold out for them though. "

It was amazing, how much his words reassured her. Landar suppressed a smile, feeling mischievous. "You'll be with me, always?"

Cato nodded earnestly. He was still holding her hand across the table.

"You know that's basically a proposal?" she grinned.

"Oh sure, why not?" Cato said casually.

They laughed as he tossed the joke right back at her.

"We don't exactly have a normal relationship, you know?" Cato noted, once the laughter was over. And he was still holding her hand!

Landar smiled back, "I am the Mad Alchemist after all. "

"And I am a wanderer from another world," Cato shrugged. Then he paused to visibly gather some courage. "So what are we?"

Landar thought. And thought some more. She had no idea actually. "I don't know," she said finally.

"Neither do I," Cato added.

And they were silent for a moment. And still holding hands across a table covered with work notes.

"Think about it another way, can you imagine us with children?" Cato asked suddenly.

Landar started to consider the image but something about that blew her stack again. She frowned and shook her head.

"Neither can I," Cato sighed, "well, any suggestions?"

Landar thought for a while, "you know, the stories have couples that aren't even half as honest as we are being now. "

"I could say the same for Earth's stories," Cato said, looking for her to continue.

"Maybe that's our problem?" she ventured hesitantly.

"But the stories always turn it into drama, so many of them could have been solved just by a good honest talk," Cato pointed out.

True. "I think we don't have a relationship in the romantic sense, then," Landar concluded. It definitely wasn't at all like the ones in the stories anyway and she didn't have experience.

"So the question is, do we want it that way?" Cato asked the obvious question.

Landar considered the question but her feelings were not being helpful at the moment. Where were all the easy answers that were supposed to happen according to the stories?! She only felt mild annoyance at having to trash so many things she had 'learnt'. She was just completely lost without a reference point.

"We could try it, just do the things that couples do," Cato said, "in my culture on Earth, there was a custom called dating. Maybe we'll find out then. And no worries, dating doesn't carry any expectation of marriage, unlike engagements. "

"That could be a way," Landar said, half glad that he had suggested that. The same thought had occurred to her but an engagement here carried a bit more weight. For an Iris daughter of the core six? It could be extremely significant.

She nodded and finally took away her hand.

A tension Landar hadn't even known she felt popped like a bubble. She met Cato's eyes and felt a grin on her face, which he mirrored. Then they were both laughing at the craziness. The stories might be crazy but that episode just now surely topped them. Who ever heard of prospective lovers discussing the issue like this? They might as well have been discussing whether to buy paka or piyo meat for dinner. Then the moment of synchronicity passed, and Landar realized that she could no longer tell if he was thinking the same thing as her.

Cato got up and nodded to her, "I have a magical infrastructure to build. "

"And I, a compiler," Landar smiled back.

Tinard ran a hand over the worktable feeling the bumps under her fingers. To the left, on the wall, hung a series of tongs and hammers. Her blacksmiting tools.

She had a workshop now, her own workshop. And outside, in the bigger space, she had a small gang of workers ready for her to command. Nominally apprentices, but neither they nor anyone else expected Tinard to teach them ironworking. They were her employees, here to do whatever she told them to.

The bigger area was an old warehouse next to Willio's ironworks, bought and repaired over in the two weeks after the fighting had died down. Tinard's own ironworking company. Minmay's payment for her full cooperation and success, she was given the first set of new ironworking machine tools.

And in that warehouse was a set of shiny new metalworking tools for her workers to test. A metal lathe, meant to cut wrought iron or untreated steel. A grinding wheel of varying coarseness. A small hammerer for precision work. All of them driven by magic. And clamped to their steel holding beds were a series of jigs, guide rails and pre-calibrated gauges, installed to position and guide the workpiece along a fixed path.

Tinard went through the procedure in her head. She had memorized all the steps by now, after lecturing the peasant workers on it for the past week. They were to buy steel rods casted by Willio's company and cut them into screws. It was literally all she was asked to make, her company was called The Screwmaker after all. She made a mental note to rename it later.

She had orders for screws of certain lengths, screws of different widths, with different heads, different thread spacing. Taps to cut the threaded holes for her screws. A side order of nails. And this thing called a screwdriver.

The ex-peasant workers Minmay had sent her way stood to attention as she walked onto the workfloor. Tinard was reminded again that they were not smiths and saw nothing wrong with using these new tools to do nothing but make boring screws all day. There was even one person whose sole job was to check for obvious defects and pack the completed screws into their crates. As long as they were paid, they didn't care.

Tinard faintly recalled the admonishment. Where was her pride as an Ironworker? But then Tinard believe in the University's techniques and the offer to jump ahead of everyone else was too good to pass up.

She wasn't afraid of the guild. The Ironworkers guild didn't exist anymore, not when most of the upper leadership spun off to form their own companies employing the same practices that had torn it apart. And a significant section of the lower smiths had been arrested, Tinard had no illusions that she would ever see them again.

Maybe she'd get to make some nuts and bolts once the workers were used to it.

"All right, we've studied the protocol steps, so let's do this for real now," Tinard said.

The first group dragged a thin metal rod as long as his arm over to the cutting machine. As metal shavings began to fly, Tinard wondered at the sheer extravagance of shaving down first rate steel. But then she had kilograms of rods to cut and could order it by the ton if she wanted. Speed and precision of running the machines were more important than minor material savings that could be sold back to Willio as scrap anyway.

There was a loud screeching of tortured metal and a snapping sound. The two workers managing the lathe jumped back hastily.

"Stand back and let me look," she said. Tinard strode forward and saw the deformed screw threads. Good, her tool wasn't damaged. Then again, with Resist magic to reinforce the tip made of tool steel, it was hard to imagine the lathe being damaged by the pliable iron.

Hmm. The metal rod was slightly off center and the tip had bit too deep. Tinard unclamped it and gestured for the workers to bring a new rod. She showed them again how to clamp it in the exact center, emphasizing the position of the rod against the markings.

Then she unclamped the new rod and made them practice it another ten times before they proceeded. Everyone on the workshop floor had to watch and take a turn. The second rod nearly ruined her lathe when they tried again. Tinard cursed and began to hunt for the next problem.

With fits and starts, both her and the workers learning as they worked through the process of making screws. Many rods were broken that week, good tools failed and their patience tested. Replacement tools and new jigs and gauge designs were ordered from the University tool making shop. Tinard had to complain many times when theoretical designs failed in practice, and she even managed to get an audience with Cato to rant about the clamps on the rotary jig breaking.

But at the end of the three weeks, she finally held in her hand the first ten screws that all fit into the same threaded hole. The workers cheered and Tinard felt a smile on her face, a sense of accomplishment just like when she had completed her masterwork qualification piece.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. After all, the workers would be the ones filling the order for one thousand screws. She was just there to lead them and solve problems. It was her company and she didn't have to do boring work if she didn't want to.

She should start on those screwdrivers now. Time to do it all over again.

"Yeah!"

A round of cheers went through the table. Mugs and skewers raised in celebration. The group was lively and noisy, as befitting their newfound wealth.

"Where was this job three years ago?!" exclaimed the peasant woman as she chugged her mug full of choko juice. Non-alcoholic of course, they had another shift tomorrow morning.

"Yeah, I needed this free money," the older man sitting across her said as he bit into his piyo meat skewer, "I mean, getting paid to just stand around and push levers and turn handles? I don't know who found a way to make doing this earn money but that person can have all my thanks!"

"You still have to do it without making mistakes," said the younger man next to him.

"Pah, if you can follow instructions, you can do it," the first woman said, "your problem is that you can never pay attention to all the little bits. "

"Those little bits are the problem! Who ever heard of an instruction where you have to put it just so exactly or pow! The machine blows up! There has to be a better way. "

The woman shook her head, "you leave that to the University. Just do your job and you'll enjoy your money. "

There was a lull in the festive cheer at the mention of the University.

"Good thing the Chancellor made them invent these 'jobs' for us, eh?" the older man said as he tossed away the stripped skewer.

A bang from the door interrupted them as a fourth man entered the tavern. He was dressed in a different uniform, with a crudely sewn image of a bolt of cloth on his sleeve.

"Guess what, I got hired for this crazy new job to spin cloth and they're paying me in cash!" the new weaver bounded up and joined his friends.

"Good for you!" the older man said, calling the waiter over. He ordered another round of skewers after confirming they could still afford it. "And while we're waiting, let's have more drink! For the Chancellor!"

"For the Chancellor!" the rest echoed. Quite a few of the other patrons joined them by tossing back their drinks too.

"And down with the rioters!"

"Down!"

That got a more muted reaction. But no one was going to break the cheerful mood of their first paycheck.