While Dalia and Selene were using the bathroom for their personal needs, Hunt and I couldn't reach an agreement. We had a problem on our hands. Hunt had already built a proto thermometer, but we still had several units left to define in front of everyone.
We had already defined the meter and the second, which being honest was an ordeal. It was one of the first tasks we took on upon arriving in this world, and we had no choice but to invent some kind of method to determine the meter and the second. The gram could be estimated with a cubic meter of distilled water. And the ampere… that would be difficult, but not impossible.
What we did, in a rather rudimentary way, was measure ourselves against a wooden plank. For nearly a month, we measured ourselves three times a day: in the morning, at noon, and at night before bed. Around 180 measurements ninety mine, ninety Hunt's. Knowing that I'm 1.85 meters tall and Hunt is 1.80, we could estimate the meter through proportions.
When we finished, we had two wooden planks with lots of marks, forming a nice bell curve. Taking the central value as our reference, a prehistoric compass, and some basic geometry, we managed to extract a tenth of a meter. On both my plank and Hunt's, the approximation was very similar but even so, we decided to run another experiment.
On some planks that eventually served as roof tiles for the house in the subdimension, we each marked what we thought was one meter by eye. With many of these rough approximations, we got another bell curve, which allowed us to estimate the meter again. Comparing it to the height-based measurements, the two "meters" were fairly close.
Surely the meter we defined doesn't resemble the real meter at all, but we'll never know. We might be off by millionths, thousandths, hundredths, or even a full millimeter.
With the meter defined, we then had to define the second. And to be honest, that was one of the hardest tasks we've ever tackled.
One idea that crossed our minds was using a pendulum. For several days, we filled a series of large jars with water, and with a small hole, we let the water drip out. We tried to measure the number of liters it took to time the span between one day's zenith and the next. We also took the average over a year roughly from one winter solstice to the next. During the six years we spent in the forest, we measured with decent precision that a year lasted 400 days. We didn't think much of it, assuming it was normal since we were in another world.
So we figured out that a bit less than 1000 liters of water lasted one day. And since we wanted to divide the day into 24 parts, around 41.6 liters would represent one hour. Wanting a more precise figure, we rounded it to 960 liters per day.
Then we decided to move on to the pendulum experiment but first, we had to measure gravity. For that, we took a ladder and dropped a stone many, many times from heights of 10, 15, and 20 meters. To measure the time, we used the large water jar. With numerous trials, we calculated how many liters drained while the stone was falling. In the end, we determined that the gravity in this world tends toward 10 m/s².
Only then could we recreate the pendulum experiment. Taking into account the equation for period T, that is:
T = 2·pi · sqrt( 1 m / 10 m/s² ),
we got nearly one oscillation per second. Given how crude our tools and methods were, we felt this was a fairly faithful approximation of the second used on Earth.
In the end, we settled on 40 liters of water from the jar as one day. With a 1-meter pendulum and a 1-liter weight, we defined one second.
Ω― Ω― Ω
In the morning, when I arrived at the company, Pudiente was waiting for me with a large stone wheel. Proud of having acquired it, he presented it to me excitedly. (Man, this guy never stops working.) According to what he told me, this wasn't just any round rock when infused with mana, it hardens. Apparently, they're widely used in mills to make flour.
As we later found out, there are people who work as mill operators who turn the millstones by brute force while also applying mana. Usually, four or five people are responsible for turning one of these wheels.
After Pudiente's explanation, two new workers showed up a man and his two daughters. Hunt was happy to see them and took them to the office. I, on the other hand, headed to the workshop. Since I arrived a bit earlier than usual, the artisans weren't there yet. So I started preparing the materials and organizing the tools by myself.
Little by little, the carpenters arrived. After greeting me, they got to work carving the missing wooden molds. The blacksmiths showed up without any rush, and today we had a new member: Varo's eldest son.
― Varo ― Good morning, Mr. Neo. (●― Morning. ―) This is my eldest son. Today he comes of age, and I'd like him to follow in my footsteps. I'd like your permission to let him work. ―
●― So you've turned 16, huh? ―
― Damos ― Yes, sir. ―
●― But I haven't seen you at meals. Where've you been? ―
― Damos ― How could I eat something I haven't earned? ―
― Varo ― My son believes that if he doesn't work, he doesn't deserve to eat. ― He said, ruffling the boy's hair.
●― I see... but your father works hard so that you can eat. If he gives you food, it's because he loves you not because he expects anything in return. ―
― Damos ― That's exactly why, sir, I have to work—to pay for my own food, a place at an inn, or buy a house as soon as I can, so I'm not just another burden to my parents. ― (Relax, kid, you're not an F1 car.)
●― I see... You've got a good heart and noble intentions, but I don't think it's going to happen. To me, you're still too young to work... ― I placed a hand on his shoulder before speaking, but he brushed it off as soon as I started.
― Damos ― I'll work harder than anyone else. I'll do everything my bones can handle, from morning to night and from night to morning. ― I placed a hand on his shoulder again, though he didn't want me to.
●― Kids shouldn't worry about grown-up nonsense. Go find Hunt and do what he tells you. When you turn 18, then we'll talk about working. ―
― Damos ― Yes, sir. ― The boy left without saying another word, not even to his father.
― Varo ― But sir, he's of working age. I've trained him since he was little. He knows the trade... ― I gave him a light smack on the head while biting my tongue—not to hurt him, but because I was starting to get annoyed.
●― No. Kids should be studying, not working. How's a kid going to care about forging if he can't even do division or square roots? ―
― Varo ― But… I don't even know what that means. ―
●― Exactly. ― I said, rolling up my sleeves. ― Stop saying nonsense or I'll give you another smack. ― I gathered all the carpenters and blacksmiths. ― Starting today, all your sons and daughters over 12 will come here to learn how to read, do math, and study physics and chemistry. Anyone who doesn't want to bring their kids shouldn't bother showing up for work tomorrow. ―
― Fabian ― But Neo, even with the pay raise, I can't afford schooling for my three daughters. ―
●― Look, now you're making me mad. When did I ever say you had to pay? Just imagine if your daughters learn and become great distinguished women, skilled in all the disciplines. ―
― Fabian ― But sir, what do you gain from teaching our kids? ―
●― It is more blessed to give than to receive. And that's the end of it. Now let's get to work and start treating the sand—can't you see there's a giant millstone in the yard? ―
I caught a glimpse of Hunt greeting the boy, then sort of pushing him to the side so he could watch him and Emiliano working on the other thermometers.
Couldn't help but notice how the kid kept glancin' at the glassworker's daughter. Thought they were adorable. They had this little stare-off goin' on, but neither dared say a word—maybe 'cause of her dad bein' there, or Hunt.
Meanwhile, I grabbed one of the handles on the millstone and started turnin' it myself, gently pushin' some mana into it. Once it picked up some inertia, the thing was pretty much movin' on its own, so I told the carpenters to go back to work on the wooden molds.
The blacksmiths took care of pourin' in the sand and collectin' the final product. Wasn't hard, just real tiring.
While I was pushin' the stone, I saw Pudiente wanderin' around the yard. I just had to call out.
― Pudiente ― You called? ―
―● Yup. Do me a favor, will ya? Go 'round the bakeries in town and buy 200 pastries. It's Varo's kid's birthday today, and we're throwin' a party for everyone. ―
― Pudiente ― I'm not even gonna ask. The stuff you two do is so weird I just yeah, never mind. I'll go ask Hunt.
―● Go ahead if you want, but he's gonna scold you for needin' to ask him everythin. ―
Took me a couple hours to grind all the sand. Just like yesterday, we washed it again to get rid of any leftover dust.
―■ Neo, Neo, Neo, Neo… — He came runnin' from the other side of the compound.
―● What now. ―
―■ How are they carvin' the patterns? ―
―● Mirror-style, cosmo na'. ―
―■ Damn, you scared me. ―
Hunt's panic was totally fair. If we'd carved the patterns like you normally see letters, they'd come out backwards when printed. (And we don't want that.)
Once the sand was dry, we got to mixing. This time, it looked more like that red casting sand our manufacturing prof showed us back in college.
With the boxes and patterns ready, we decided to start with the first eight letters of the alphabet. Since the brass was already poured, we just had to screw it in carefully and wait.
Just as I hoped, the result was excellent. With the first molds in hand still warm I brought them to Hunt so he could see with his own eyes if they were good enough.
We left the pattern casting to the blacksmiths and headed to the office, where the accountants looked like they were on the verge of a breakdown. We ignored that and went to test the pattern quality.
We laid a sheet of hide on the table, then a paper on top. We tied the eight letters with some string and dabbed ink over 'em.
Pressed down nice and firm letters came out clean on the page. Sure, a smudge here, a light spot there, but good enough to use. So we headed out to the yard to break the news.
The blacksmiths, carpenters, and merchants were so happy, they almost started jumpin' around.
―● Not to kill the fun, but we still got plenty to do. The bronze pattern looks great, yeah, but we'll polish 'em up a bit more. This afternoon, all you merchants are helpin' out the carpenters and smiths everyone who ain't got nothin' to do. Got it?
― Varo ― By the way, how many of these patterns we gotta cast?
●― About 4000... ― They immediately started complaining.
■― We're going to make 50 boxes like this, one for each letter, and we'll go in batches of 50. That way, we only need to do 80 castings. ―
(# ●― You do realize it's not 80 pieces per letter, right? ― #)
(# ■― I do, but they don't. In the end we'll make 150 per character. Oh, and you need to make the space, plus the (=), (+), (−), (·), (/)... ― #)
(# ●― I figured as much. What if we change the numbers, though? Their number shapes are a pain in the ass. ― #)
(# ■― You're absolutely right. Let's switch them. ― #)
Everyone got to work like maniacs. They barely let us help they were so confident about what needed to be done that they self-organized completely.
Since everything was under control, Hunt and I started preparing lunch. Today it was meatballs in tomato sauce. We wanted to make pasta, but we didn't have the equipment for that.
During lunch, I watched as, little by little, like they weren't even trying, the lovebirds started inching closer to talk to each other. And just when they least expected it — that is, at the end of the meal — we brought out the pastries. Hunt, being the genius he is, had sent Pudiente to get the finest candles he could find. We stuck sixteen candles into a few of the pastries and lit them.
●― This is a tradition from back home — when someone has a birthday. ― I placed the "cake" in front of him. Hunt and I sang the birthday song. (Just the two of us. It was kind of sad or awkward, I'm not sure. Honestly, I was a little embarrassed.)
We told him to blow out the candles, to mark that he's officially a year older. Then we stood him up on the bench and, between Hunt and me, we pulled his ears sixteen times.
Everyone looked confused at first, but you could tell they were enjoying it. Then Hunt winked at Pudiente, and with help from the girls, they brought out the rest of the pastries and handed them out to everyone.
Ω― Ω― Ω
The day went as planned, and once my shift ended, I went straight home. A new challenge awaited me there: designing a sanitation system for the houses. I let Peter know I'd be out and, as usual, with Antón by my side, I headed to the miners' guild. Drovak, the guild master, greeted me personally when he heard I was around.
― Drovak ― A young guy like you around here, huh? ― He said, coming down the stairs.
●― I wanted to check out some things and didn't know who to ask. Someone told me to come see you.
After a short chat about the banquet and his thanks for keeping his family safe in the "Dimensional Pocket," I explained my plans. I wanted to improve the family's health conditions, and if possible, the whole town's. So for that, I needed a rock that was smooth and soft. Surprised and excited, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a storage room attached to the guild, full of a huge variety of rocks and massive samples.
― Drovak — Ah, Neo! Come, come — (Don't pull so hard, you're gonna break my hand.) — I'm gonna show you some stones that… oh mama, mama, mama. ― He got close to one as if it were flea-sized, inspecting it really, really closely.
― Drovak — Look at this one, for example, the Moonstone, soft as a boob and shining like freshly released mana. — (Soft as what?) — No, better look at this other one, it doesn't even crack if you put twice the usual mana in it — (Uh-huh...) — This one's a gem! The (Silina). Doesn't shine much, but it's super easy to carve. Feels like slicing freshly hunted meat, and if you add a bit of mana, it warms up… like a girlfriend when you're petting her—you know where. ― He winked and gave me a friendly back slap.
― Drovak — This other one is a marvel for molding — (Isn't that just clay?) — This one that looks like petrified silk is (Albamar), a delicate little blue thing, and just looking at it feels like you're enchanted. ― He stared at it for a while, so long that Antón and I exchanged weird looks. Coming out of his trance, he went on.
― Drovak — This rough one here is (Maglita), bumpy like the shell of some monster, but it holds magical heat like a baker's oven — doesn't even flinch! And if you want something that won't absorb mana even by accident, grab this one, the (Clearrock), so clear it looks like dirty glass, but it repels mana like it's cursed water — (Alright...) — Oh! This thin one here is (Tolmenite), strong as my wife, won't break even if you stick a chisel where it doesn't fit. Perfect for fearless molding. ― (Strong words, damn, hahaha. But where did this guy come from?)
― Drovak — Check out this one too, (Serenite). It's not shiny, but it's soft to the touch — He crouched down to stroke it with his face. — And if you put weight on it with mana, it flattens itself, like it knows it has to be perfect.
― Drovak — This one is (Volgarite), a bit porous, yeah, but if you heat it well, it seals itself, stops being rough. And this gorgeous veined beauty is (Zafirina)! Tough as a dwarf's spear and pretty as noble marble — a delight to carve!
He talked about his stones for over an hour, half the time I had no idea what they were for or how they could be used. With Hunt's help and some photos, we picked fifteen of them. Every time I chipped a little rock, it was like the man's soul left him, seeing his little "daughters" get broken.
After leaving the guild, Antón and I couldn't stop laughing and started joking about the guy's quirks. Weird as he is... he's a good man.
As soon as I got home, I broke each of the fifteen stones in two, making thirty halves which I soaked in two different substances. Astrid scolded me for using fifteen full jars, saying it was a huge waste, but I didn't care. Fifteen halves went into an acidic liquid extracted from some citrus fruits I'd gotten, and the other fifteen soaked in a basic solution made with water and ashes. Now all that was left was to wait and see how those rocks reacted to their improvised magical baths.