Sunstone: A Steampunk Reality

by Holly Barbo

  With relaxed grace, Dan’l quietly stepped into the room before everyone had assembled. There was a small table set away from the windows but centered to the long conference table. On this, he set up the dictaphone recorder and laid out a series of blank cylinders. He pulled up a chair but nearly tripped on the little cleaning bot which whirred around the room’s perimeter. Reaching down, he pushed a button on its top. The gears stopped their hum and the bot went silent. Dan’l carried it to its dock, where it whirred one more time as it emptied its receptacle of dirt. He murmured, “I guess the staff was busy with all the preparations this morning. You should have been wound up earlier, but it isn’t critical. The room looks fine and, with what is on the agenda, no one will notice a missed spot. Can’t have you tripping our guests.”

  Just as the young man returned to his chair and began to load a waxed cylinder into the recorder, his father stepped into the conference room. As the head of the Chemical-Pharmaceutical Corporation Chemedco, Raj’t would be presiding over the meeting. Dan’l looked at his father. He was a big man with short grey hair and ferociously sharp hawk-like eyes under bushy brows. As a child, Dan’l had been terrified of him. Now that he was in his early thirties, he respected Raj’t’s single-minded focus to advance his company’s capital and had learned never to question his old man’s directives.

  The room began to fill with the board members, all of which were family. Dan’l’s grandmother swept into the room and took her place in her favorite chair in the corner. She rarely contributed to the discussion, but since the company had come to her son through her family and not his father’s, she felt it was her duty to her ancestors to be there.

  When everyone was seated, Raj’t wasted no time with preliminary pleasantries. “Let’s get down to business.” As he spoke, his stare moved to each individual, slowly working his way around the room. “The Council of Elders and Myrn’s elected assembly will open discussion next month on the proposed law increasing the regulatory and safety controls on our industry. Though we support the health and wellbeing of Myrn’s citizens, the law would add a number of inspectors who would go over past projects as well as present and future ones. You all know what I’m talking about. We’ve discussed it before. That kind of scrutiny cannot be borne. We know our industry best, and those sleeve-gartered governmental bean counters are trying to pass some ‘feel good’ legislation that will just get in our way of what is… ‘capital’ for us. I have assigned specific jobs to some of you. Now is the time for you to share with us how you performed them!”

  He sat back in his chair but the intensity of his expression didn’t change. “William. You may not have the old family honorarium of the shortened name, but if you prove to be as valuable as I think you can be, we’ll see to it your name is changed to reflect that. Will’m. Report on your analysis.”

  A young man of twenty-eight blinked at the thought of what was being offered to him. He was married to Raj’t’s daughter. It had been a controversial move in the family because his heritage was not as elevated, and many had thought that his Sh’ar had wed beneath her station. He resisted the urge to clear his throat and loosen his collar as he started his report. “The proposed legislation, if enacted as it is written today, would expose some of our cost-cutting decisions. The purity of our distillation process is adequate with the cheaper filters but the new regulations would cast shadows on our reputation if our changes came to light. The medicines made from our new process have only negatively affected twenty-one percent of the population dependent on those drugs. We have consistently denied fault but have shown our compassion through a gift to the surviving partner or family. This action has been well received by the grieving relatives, and we can afford it by the profits we have made in the cost-cutting distillation.”

  There were nods of understanding around the table. The young man relaxed somewhat. His handsome face and body, which had initially attracted his wife, didn’t show any of the nervous tension that was pinging in his body.

  “It was decided,” he nodded toward Raj’t, “to look into ways to deflect the public’s attention. The solar flares are indeed happening. But we believe that the scientists are exaggerating their seriousness in order to get more funding and thus more influence with the public. We’ve had solar flares before. Shacir is so large that we are protected in its shadow. There was only one time in our recorded history when the solar bursts became critical and damaging for Myrn. I’ve looked into that. It was a little over a century ago and hasn’t happened since. Should the situation become grave, I’m sure a solution would be devised.”

  He raised his eyebrows as he looked around the gathered family members. “So it doesn’t make any sense that the scientific community is even talking about it to the governing bodies and the public. We are deflecting that by planting reports of a fringe shaman group who is working with, or at least influencing, the scientists for their own agenda. This group doesn’t exist, but since the caretakers of Navora’s shrines don’t mingle with the general public,” he shrugged, “it is a believable possibility. The newspapers are thrilled to increase readership by whipping up the fear, so they were easy to convince. Being gullible, they’ve inadvertently aided our subterfuge by inventing ‘evil shaman sightings and tricks.’ Yesterday I heard a newsboy shout a headline that shaman members were seen loitering around the company store minutes before it burst into flames the other night. We are keeping an eye on their ‘news’ flow and only nudge them occasionally. It is, for the most part, a self-generating effort on their part.” William sat back, scanning the group for reactions. Some were surprised, but most schooled their expressions to show very little.

  Raj’t nodded to the young man. “Very good. Keep on top of these developments. Such diversionary tactics are brilliant! No one will have the time or interest to look into our business. Chemedco is on sound footing, and it is due to get even better. We must be careful that we stay out of the turmoil and the fray. Just focus on Chemedco. There is another project our lab teams are working on. It’s top secret and isn’t advanced enough to share with the board yet, but it should net us a hefty profit. I’ll let you know when we have it refined.”

  Across the room, Raj’t’s mother raised her eyebrows but remained silent.

  The head of the company looked up from his notes and, with a final nod to the young man, he turned his attention to another family member. “Y’lon. Your report!”

  Dan’l stopped the recorder’s wax scribing and switched to a new cylinder, marking the full one before setting it aside. Slipping on a fresh one, he put the needle in place and wound the clockwork. He nodded to a woman in her late thirties, who sat a bit straighter in her chair. She had a cool, austere beauty, and her very thick black hair was gathered at the base of her neck and floated down her back obscuring the lacing of her silk-embroidered velvet corset.

  “My team has been meeting with some key elders and assemblymen that Dan’l pinpointed for us. The focus has been good. Elder Rune told me that the law, as it is proposed, would cost too much, with negative returns for the health and safety of the people of Myrn.” She gave a small, cool, and very satisfied smile, and continued. “He further stated that he suspects the scientific community is building up an imaginary crisis entirely out of realistic proportion to get funding and more power for their endeavors. As William has just reported, that story was completely manufactured in our boardroom, but he believes it. He wants to trap them in this lie. He’s working with his niece, the renowned Marova. She has made some wall art that has some dictaphone devices embedded within it on the back side. The cylinders can be changed during the night through a hidden access panel. It’s his intent to have them installed in a number of their buildings. He thinks he will eventually get lucky and get a recording of a scientist saying something incriminatingly useful.

  “The first piece was ready to be installed in the old research building at the Four Corners, but something came up at the last moment and the sculpture wasn’t secured to the wa
ll.” Y’lon shrugged elegantly. “It was because he wanted to take an old wall glyph out and replace it with Marova’s. I told him to have hers put in another spot. It was a tactical error. Anyway, he is definitely looking at things our way and it hasn’t cost us any money, just attention from me.”

  She stopped and took a sip of water before resuming. She took a deep breath, and her delectable charms strained the confines of her corset. “The specially selected young people on my staff have been matched carefully to our targets among the governmental bodies.” Her smile got very sleek at the subtle pun. “Some of our efforts have cost more than others, but we are making headway. Gifts, dinners and donations are used besides flattery and attention. I’m keeping track of our expenditures and the results. From the names on the list that Dan’l provided, there are varying degrees of success. Elder Rune is the furthest along that road but all of our targets are moving in the direction we want them to.”

  Raj’t looked thoughtful. “That is interesting that Rune thought to spy on our scientists by implanting recorders into art. I think the likelihood of hearing something useful is slim, but the fact that he has taken that step is very interesting. Highly illegal but fascinating just the same. Hmm. Either point is useful to us. Keep us informed, Y’lon.” He paused in thought before he looked up and focused his scrutiny on his son.

  “Dan’l!”

  The young blond man remained in his relaxed position in his chair as he again changed the waxed cylinder in the machine. When the gears engaged and the needle dropped, he looked up. His demeanor was confident and his voice was calmly quiet when he spoke. The group stopped any shuffling of papers or stirring in their chairs to catch what he said. “My assigned task has been two-fold. I was to analyze who were the most easily influenced within the government and the possible vulnerability to exploit for each of them. Those data were given to Y’lon’s team. The next task was similar. I was to provide analysis on who were the leveling influences, the respected voices of reason, within Myrn society. It was felt that these pivotal people could undo our efforts to deflect attention and cast questions upon what we were feeding the news media about the scientific findings and the shaman. As I was sifting through the database and forming the ‘Pivotal People’ list, I was also analyzing how to nullify their influence. These strategies needed to be more delicately researched than the list I gave Y’lon. Some we could possibly bribe. But the very nature of these individuals is more problematic. They’re rigidly ethical to their core as well as very intelligent. It’s part of the reason they’re so well respected and their words carry weight. That leaves undermining their credibility or their reputation and, in the most extreme cases, threatening a loved one or possibly eliminating the influential person altogether. This data I gave to Stone.”

  He shrugged. “I have worked as part of his team in the capacity of using the ongoing research to keep track of our targeted people, but I cannot report on his progress in his absence. It is too bad that he became so ill yesterday that he could not celebrate with us today. My efforts to contact him this morning were hampered by the dash-key messages failing to send… more of the solar flare business.”

  “Thank you, Dan’l, Y’lon and William. We appreciate your intel. It would have been nice to complete the picture with Stone’s report. I will get in touch with him personally.” A soft chime was heard from the clock in the hall. “Well. It looks like it is time for the holiday feast. Let’s adjourn and join our families in the celebration. We’ll talk more about this later.” There was a rustling around the room as everybody got up and began to leave. Raj’t stopped Dan’l and looked at him levelly. “Is Stone really ill?”

  “It’s possible that he is. But I wish he had been here to give his report. There are some critical things that have not gone as planned with his part of the operation. He made himself leader for this task. It’s his place to take responsibility for that and rectify any glitches.” Dan’l shrugged.

  Raj’t’s expression was grim. “I understand. I’ll be contacting him tomorrow. Even if he is on his deathbed, he will give me his report. I’ll listen to what he has to say. He may have already taken care of the… ‘glitches.’ I hope that is true.”

  The two turned and started for the door. Dan’l said quietly, “That was a nice touch, your offer to William.”

  The older man smiled but didn’t reply.

  As their voices faded in the corridor and the family gathered on the lawn, a cobalt blue packet bot whirred into the abandoned meeting chamber and moved directly to the recording cylinders that Dan’l had left. A little arm extended from the bot housing. It grasped the waxed tubes by their cobalt collars, date stamped them and packed them carefully into a hatch on its side. Whirling around, the packet bot disappeared through a slot in the wall.

  Unrevealed Hazards

  After a day of festivities and a night of celebration, the people of Myrn were all feeling a little drowsy, perhaps a trifle hung over from drinking toasts to their departed ancestors and celebrating life’s blessings; yet the steam plant whistle blew, calling the workers back to first shift. From all over Therad and in every city on Myrn, people gathered in lines outside of factories, waiting for the doors to roll back so they could file in. Men, women and children placidly queued up. They had a universal look: shirts with sleeves rolled or tied back with garters, work pants with suspenders. Some had vests or corsets but, as with the rest of the clothing, the garments were stained and worn. Most of the workers had shoes or boots, but some, often the children, were barefoot or had sandals.

  The youngsters were sought by certain manufacturers because of their size. In the textile mills, they could fit between the big looms and tie up threads on the warp take-up beam, and their small fingers and hands were perfect for pirn threading. These children could speed up the time the power loom was off.

  In the steam plants, they were the rodent catchers and could slip into tight areas to apply grease to moving gears and cogwheels. By law, no one should be near the moving gears, but there were only three inspectors for the whole moon so no one really checked. The usual practice was to back down the steam pressure so the gears moved at a slower speed. The foreman allowed just a certain amount of time for the tasks to be completed, then, with a warning call, turned the steam pressure back to full. Parents didn’t like having their children working, but to survive, every hand in the family needed to contribute.

  The early morning light shone through the mist of steam belching from the factory stacks and bathed the yawning workers in wisps of rainbows. There was a short toot and the doors opened. Slowly, the lines disappeared into the darkened maws of the plants to the accompaniment of clangs and whirring of the machinery. Another workday had started.

  In Dan’l’s family home, Raj’t was seated on the small garden terrace, having just finished a light breakfast. He gazed over the blooming bushes without seeing them. There was a light step behind him, which broke through his reverie. “Hello, Mother,” he said without turning. “There are more servings of melon and berries beside the carafe of kris.”

  “Thank you for offering, but I ate in my suite over an hour ago. It is your company that has brought me here.” She sat with her back to the vista and looked into the hawk-like face of her son. Ver’in murmured, “You resemble your father more each day—”

  “Yes, as you have stated before,” he interrupted.

  Ignoring his dismissing statement, she continued speaking. “And like with my husband, I can tell when you are hiding something devious under smooth words. So what grand project are you working on that will net my company countless kronots and make us fabulously wealthy for generations to come?”

  He stiffened at the barb but chided back. “Yes, Mother, I know, Chemedco came from your family and not through the familial male line. But under my management it has increased its worth, and I continue to build our value!”

  She cocked her head. “That remains to be seen. You have increased our coffers, but I’m not sure about
our value. What is this secret plan that is still under development and prevents you from sharing details with the family? Is it anything like what Sh’ar’s husband William was reporting? Cutting back on proper filtration and distillation so you can save a few kronots here and there? Not caring that twenty-one percent die due to our badly made medicines? Making up stories about mythical shaman people to deflect attention away from any possible repercussions and thus jeopardizing the safety of humble people who do Navora’s good? Is that what you call good management?”

  “It has kept a roof over your head and enough fripperies and baubles for you, Sh’ar and the rest of the family,” he growled.

  “We had enough before, and now we have an abundance! Sh’ar is an intelligent woman who could be a leading scientist in our labs, but you refuse to see it. Why do we need to make bad pharma products just to amass more wealth? You are in danger of destroying our reputation, to have more money than you could possibly use! When you die, you are dead, and all of your amassed fortune will not change that or go with you.” The old woman paused, and when she next spoke, her voice was so calm that it held a warning. “Raj’t, what are you up to? Does it have anything to do with the new illness?”

  “What part of secret does my mother not understand? I won’t share it with you. But to address your concern with our reputation, our labs are working on a cure for the new illness. That should please you.”

  Ver’in stood and, though she was a small woman, her posture and demeanor had a commanding presence. “You still haven’t learned to address all of my questions. You just answer the ones you deem important. You tend to discount the importance of women and that includes me and your daughter. That is not a smart thing to do. I am the head of the company, not you. If you do something stupid, we all pay the price. There are no secrets between the Chief Executive Officer of a company and the person who owns it! You say you are working on a cure. Where are the patients? I’ve just come from the labs. Where are the blood samples and the stacks of petri dishes? I didn’t see any, and I know my way around a laboratory. So, my only offspring, how are you effecting a cure? There is an answer I can think of but shudder to think you have taken that step. I have one more question. Did you create this illness just so Chemedco could come sweeping in like Navora on her fiery sled with the cure, figuring people would pay any price to get it?”