Luminaries & Lies

by Jeremy Dwyer

  “What are you planning, exactly? Let’s talk about the details,” Fantine asked.

  “I want a build a vast city that can protect everything here – all the people, all the land,” Sebastian said.

  “All the land? The entire continent? Is that what you’re talking about?” Fantine asked, incredulously.

  “All the land I own – and everyone who chooses to live on it. It needs a protective wall that can stop any storm from the sea, or the burn from the suns of the sky, or anything else – rogue ships, bands of robbers. Better and bigger than what we did before,” Sebastian said.

  “That’s beyond any resources I have – or can imagine anyone having,” Fantine said. She mused on what would be necessary, and the numbers were considerable.

  “Calculate a number – how much material it would take. Then, we’ll calculate the price, and I’ll make sure we get it,” Sebastian said.

  “Alright. Let’s talk this one through based on the numbers,” Fantine said. She took out a blank sheet of paper and started making some lines on it after dipping her pen into an inkwell.

  Sebastian held out a detailed map of the land he owned. The then said: “The numbers you need are marked on the map.”

  Fantine noticed how fine the detail was, yet, it wasn’t going to be sufficient for her needs, she realized. “How did you make this map?” Fantine asked.

  “I hired a number of land surveyors to measure the perimeter,” Sebastian said.

  “It is detailed, but not detailed enough for actual construction. It should be enough for estimation, though. Based on the shape of your land holdings, we can build a hexagonal border wall, with internal walls extending from the center to the vertices. That’s twelve (12) walls, each three hundred fifty (350) miles in length. In total, that’s four thousand two hundred (4200) linear miles. Given the fact that there are five thousand two hundred eighty (5280) feet in a mile, the wall would need to be twenty-two million one hundred seventy-six thousand (22176000) linear feet,” Fantine said.

  “So, what about the other dimensions? What height and thickness of wall would be adequate?” Sebastian asked.

  “If you’re worried about attacks from the sea, airships can’t go higher than one hundred twenty (120) feet – not safely, anyway. For the same reason, it’s too hard to construct a wall higher than that,” Fantine said.

  “Let’s double that height, to be sure. Make it two hundred forty (240) feet,” Sebastian said.

  “No, we can’t. Construction workers just can’t operate at that height. The heat is too great,” Fantine said.

  “With proper protective gear, isn’t it possible? After all, given everything that was done before, during the inferno, you know how to overcome the difficulties of extraordinary heat. This should be possible, now that the inferno is over,” Sebastian said. He was optimistic that Fantine would find a way.

  “I’ll have to experiment to see what can be done. This is unknown territory, and it has a lot of risk. We could put the effort into other innovations – ones that are truly inspirational,” Fantine said.

  “You’ll find a way,” Sebastian said.

  “I’ll need time,” Fantine said.

  “I’ll give you all that I can to help free up your time to work on it,” Sebastian said.

  “So, how thick should the wall be?” Sebastian asked after a pause.

  Fantine then calculated the force of impact of an airship if it were to hit the wall at the highest realistic speed.

  “Two hundred (200) feet thick, if the wall has the strength of the material we used for the archways,” Fantine said.

  “So, how much material will be needed?” Sebastian asked.

  “One point zero six four four four eight trillion (1064448000000) cubic feet of material,” Fantine said after multiplying the perimeter, height and thickness.

  “What does that translate to, in terms of what needs to be purchased? Crystal is purchased by weight or number of stones,” Sebastian asked.

  Fantine did another calculation and said: “Six thousand eight hundred fifty-nine (6859) crystals fit in a cubic foot, giving a total of seven point three zero one zero four nine quadrillion (7301049000000000) crystals.”

  “Now, let’s use the market rates for the highest quality of crystal – diamond. That’s one thousand four hundred five (1405) platinum coins each,” Sebastian said.

  “That’s not going to be adequate. They’re going to need to be custom cut and molded. Everything we did before is still going to be necessary. We need to hire skilled crystal benders – this is going to require a tremendous workforce. That adds another eighty (80) percent. That means two thousand five hundred thirty (2530) platinum coins per crystal,” Fantine said after adding the skilled labor rate.

  “What does that make the total?” Sebastian asked.

  Fantine multiplied the numbers together and said: “Eighteen point four seven two quintillion (18472000000000000000) platinum coins worth of material and skilled work.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll procure for you,” Sebastian said.

  “How? And how soon?” Fantine asked. She found construction – and architecture – on this scale to be exhilarating, yet there were unknowns at this scale, as well. She wondered if it was all fanciful exaggeration – no one had ever done something of this magnitude; no one that she knew of, anyway.

  “I can arrange the finances. I need to you prepare your designs. Is there anything you need right now to get started?” Sebastian asked, glowing with enthusiasm and sincerity. He was determined to make this walled city a reality.

  “I’m going to need to determine how to construct each wall segment. There are going to be some technical challenges at that wall height. The engineering process – how I’m going to have to bend the crystal to be stable and strong – has to come first. Then, I’m going to need a ship – with a survey crew – to travel the land borders and plan out the precise foundation. The topography information I need for construction is much more detailed than what that map provides,” Fantine said.

  Sebastian reached into his coat pocket and drew out a bank account document that he had brought with him. He wrote some symbols on the document with a pen and handed it over to Fantine.

  Fantine looked at it and saw that it was valued in the amount of three million (3000000) platinum coins.

  “Whatever you need to begin with, this should cover your initial expenses. If you need more, do not hesitate to ask. I’ll return in a couple of weeks and we can talk some more, and see how things are going,” Sebastian said.

  Sebastian read her mind the whole time and found it to be distant – not unclear, just distant. At first, Fantine didn’t believe what he was saying, or that she could do it, or that he could pay for it.

  He could see that Fantine was now letting go of her doubts about him having enough money to pay for it all, despite his wealth. She assumed that he would take out a very large loan – if the bankers could be convinced of the feasibility and profitability of the construction project. That, she hoped, was a problem he knew how to solve. Fantine’s mind went to the work ahead. Her mind was completely focused on the details of planning and execution on this scale.

  Sebastian then left Fantine’s alchemist workshop, boarded his private ship and made his way to his next destination.

  CHAPTER 20: Builders of the Ships of the World

  In the continent of Javanda, in one of the major shipyards on the southern coast facing the Ikkith Tar Ocean, Laurentius worked a master shipbuilder. He was fifty-one (51) years old and particular about his choice of materials and designs. He knew which trees produced the finest lumber – Javanda’s forests were vast and dense, but the suitability of the trees varied highly – because of his close connection to nature. He drank the waters of the Gradaken Ocean, and he was selective about that, as well. He paid extra for high purity water, as the alchemists – who were all drinkers of the Kazofen Ocean waters – doubled or even tripled the price of the water because of their ser
vices. They knew very well how to extract the impurities, and the quality and efficacy of the powers of the water increased in some noticeable and subtle ways. Laurentius noticed the difference – he knew, looking at the grain of the wood and the type, how well it would curve. Furthermore, he purchased some of his own land and cultivated trees by using the powers that the Gradaken waters gave him when he drank of them. He worked alone as a horticulturalist, and so he was only able to cultivate a small number of trees, but he had done so diligently over the prior twenty-seven (27) years, tending the trees carefully. He set aside some of these to produce timber for the finest vessels he made, and for which he charged substantially higher prices.

  Laurentius had watched the trees over the years, charting their growth based on placement, soil and sun exposure and irrigation. He hoped to gain a scientific understanding of the effect that the powers of the Gradaken waters would have on the trees he grew, as well as those he did not. The ordinary factors of soil, sun and irrigation had complex interactions for the trees grown in the wild, but those he cultivated seemed invariant to those factors. By drinking the Gradaken waters and then coming into contact with the trees on a regular basis, they thrived, despite sometimes inferior or equivalent conditions to the trees he did not so treat.

  All of this, however, was secondary to his primary trade, which was shipbuilding. His reputation for quality allowed him to charge significant premiums, and purchase even more land for his own trees. Time was his limiting factor, more than money. Hiring others – even Gradaken drinkers – was out of the question for him.

  ~~~

  On board the Everlasting Pain, Pradrock and Torin and Akylas and Akantha arrived at Loravixian Island in the Ikkith Tar Ocean. There, Farovaxen and Va’Qileren were returned to their Redfire Sentinel Outpost.

  “We will watch the skies, as well as the seas, giving guidance as best we can,” Farovaxen said as he left the ship.

  “When by the stars ships cannot be steered, we will guide them with the light,” Va’Qileren said as he began walking down the boarding ramp to the shore of the island.

  “Even now, we could use your guidance on our way to Javanda,” Pradrock said.

  “We will guide you,” Va’Qileren said as he stepped onto the shores of Loravixian Island alongside Farovaxen. From there, Va’Qileren drank anew of the waters of the Lujladia Ocean from his vial and was energized. He had the powers of light, and generated a guiding beam toward the north, giving direction to the southern coast of Javanda. The beam penetrated the hazy darkness that perpetually hovered over the entirety of the Ikkith Tar Ocean.

  Following the guiding light of the Redfire Sentinels, the crew of the Everlasting Pain continued sailing the waters of the Ikkith Tar Ocean on their way to Javanda. With a day, they arrived at the shipyards on the continent’s southern coast.

  “The most highly skilled shipbuilders in the world work here,” Pradrock said.

  “The ones in Emeth are just as good, aren’t they?” Akylas asked.

  “That’s because they were trained in Javanda in the first place,” Torin said.

  “How would you know?” Akylas asked.

  “I visited the port towns from time to time, and paid attention to what people were saying. That’s where I learned a few things myself,” Torin said.

  “So you’re going to buy a new ship? What class?” Akantha asked.

  “That’s going to depend on availability, and the required crew,” Pradrock said.

  “There’s the four (4) of us,” Akantha said, counting herself, Akylas, Torin and Captain Pradrock.

  “Are you going to hire more crew?” Akylas asked.

  “If the need arises, I will. We could use a light bender to help with navigation and other tasks, and maybe even a crystal bender. Torin can repair sail cloth as expertly as anyone I’ve met, but he can’t repair the sailing crystals. If they get fractured, he can only replace them with new ones,” Pradrock said.

  “You do keep spares on hand, right?” Akylas asked. He remembered from his short time on board Captain Keallach’s ship that the greedy old pirate kept a few spare sailing crystals. He needed to get out of some places in a hurry, and didn’t want to wait for repairs. Without those crystals – which were energized by the suns and gave the lifting force – airship travel was impossible, and travel at sea level was never as fast.

  “Yes. But a small fracture may be better to repair in an otherwise high quality crystal. Waste is not recommended. You may not know this, but the damaged crystals that are thrown away do discharge a caustic toxin,” Pradrock said.

  “Yeah. I know about it. Sometimes pirates use it to burn people’s skin and get them to show where money’s hidden. Keallach did that, more than once,” Akylas said.

  “I never saw him do that!” Akantha said.

  “I try to forget some of the things he did,” Akylas said.

  “You held on to that one,” Akantha said.

  “Holding onto negative memories and living in the past is toxic to the mind. Learn from the past, but don’t dwell on it,” Pradrock said.

  “Let’s not stay with this ship much longer – talk about living in the past. A few spirits are still attached to it, and they’re not too happy,” Akantha said.

  “You haven’t mentioned that before,” Akylas said.

  “Agreed. Is this a new observation, or did you wait until now to tell us?” Pradrock asked.

  “Can we even sell a haunted ship? What’s it worth?” Torin asked.

  “Not much,” Akylas said.

  “It’s been like that since we got it. Of course, the miserable main haunt had our attention with all his commentary so the others didn’t really jump out at me. I started feeling them after he left. But then, Victoria kept us kind of busy, so I wasn’t too concerned until now,” Akantha said.

  “A ship with more spirits attached to it isn’t the most suitable vessel to conduct business with. Let’s see what new ships are available, shall we?” Pradrock said.

  The group left the Everlasting Pain and walked through the Javanda shipyards, seeing which ships were complete or nearly so. Pradrock was interested in something that was more modern, and more durable than the Everlasting Pain, which was an ancient and dilapidated vessel.

  “How about that one?” Akylas asked, pointing to a large completed ship that was three hundred fifty-nine (359) feet in length, with five (5) pairs of pivot-enabled masts that were each ninety-five (95) feet high.

  “The crew that I would have to hire for that ship would necessitate a far larger investment than is practical, and would make it impractical to accept smaller clients and shipments. It would be far too limiting,” Pradrock said.

  “What’s not too big?” Akantha asked.

  “Between one hundred twenty (120) and one hundred ninety (190) feet in length, preferably with three (3) pairs of pivot-enabled masts, four (4) at most,” Pradrock said.

  The group walked around for hours, although Torin couldn’t see anything and so he waited for the others to discuss the matter.

  “That vessel looks like it may be suitable,” Pradrock said, pointing to a ship that was on the upper end of his stated limits. There were four (4) pairs of pivot-enabled masts, and the ship was at least one hundred ninety (190) feet in length.

  The group walked toward the ship and got a closer look. The ship’s builder – a thin-yet-strong-looking man in his late fifties – approached them.

  “It’s a durable, separable freighter,” the ship’s builder said.

  “Separable?” Akylas asked.

  “It’s two (2) ships in one. It separates symmetrically, front-to-back. The minimum operating crew of each component, or of the consolidated ship, is six (6),” the ship’s builder said.

  “We would need twelve (12) people – that’s eight (8) crew you would have to hire to run both ships, Akylas said.

  “Or just two (2) crew if the ship remains connected, as we already have the four (4) of us,” Pradrock said.

  “Yo
u said durable. Is it defensible, though?” Pradrock asked.

  “There are no on-board armaments. It’s a freighter, for commercial use only,” the ship’s builder said.

  “All the pirates in the world are gone, so no problem there,” Akylas said, sarcastically.

  “Who ever heard of pirates? Really?” Torin said, filled with disgust and mocking the idea of a ship with no means of defense.

  “What is the level of durability of the ship?” Pradrock asked.

  “It’s designed to absorb any and all cannon fire, up to eight (8) simultaneous impacts. With impact at the consolidation boundary, the components will cleanly separate,” the ship’s builder said.

  Pradrock considered this and thought that it may be useful to have a second vessel as a contingency plan. He wasn’t planning on hiring enough crew to operate both; rather, he was planning on having a usable secondary component in case the other was destroyed. Defensive armaments, if needed, could be added later.

  “I’m interested in pricing this one,” Pradrock said.

  “Shouldn’t we hire additional crew first?” Akylas asked.

  “That’s where I’m going to need your help. While I look into the purchase of this vessel, the three (3) of you can ascertain who might be available to work with us. Since you’ll be working alongside them, and depending upon their cooperation, this is a good opportunity,” Pradrock said.

  “We’re the hiring committee, great,” Torin said.

  “You ask all the hard questions. If they can get past you, they’re hired,” Akylas said to his sister.