Chapter 3

Factorium

After the busy first day following the news of the attack on their port, Ky spent most of the time locked away in their rooms, writing out instructions all day and night.

He’d made the right decision at the time, by not continuing to push military technology forward, considering the devastation left by the war and the state of all their allies, but as with all decisions it had come at a cost. Now, he was scrambling to make up for that cost.

Lucilla was equally busy, sending messages to their allies across Europe, trying to set up some kind of meeting with all of them to begin putting together the kind of combined force they would need if things went the way Ky feared they would. Britannia had lost a lot of men over the years it had been fighting, losses that would take a generation to replace. If this was going to be a war of almost equals, the legions couldn’t be almost entirely Britannians. They would need to field larger armies, and the casualties would be greater against a firearm-wielding opponent.

Getting a combined force, however, might be harder than designing and producing new weapons. Which is why Ky was glad to leave it to Lucilla while he focused on the weapons.

He’d made enough progress on the designs to finally make a trip out to Factorium and get them started on the setup and production. He made a brief stop to see Hortensius, mostly to look at what had to be done to retool some of the factories producing civilian goods to produce more rifles and artillery, and what supplies were needed to support those weapons, like bagging for cannon charges and primer caps.

While Hortensius was getting that going, Sorantius would start working on some foundational steps for their next weapons.

Ky found the chemist in his workshop, going over figures for ammonia production, which was possibly the thing in highest demand from their allies. They had been skeptical at first, but after the second year, when the harvest started to show the effects of more modern fertilizers, they began banging down his door, demanding more.

“Consul,” Sorantius said, waving off the assistant he’d been talking to. “We’re on track to meet the Ptolemy’s request. It is a fairly large order, but the Empress emphasized the need to do a favor for them, to help with some diplomacy or another, so I shifted some things around, and I think we’re going to get it done.”

“I never had any doubt,” Ky said. “Unfortunately, I’m about to make your life a lot more complicated than it is already.”

“Of course you are,” the famously prickly chemist said. “And what can I do for the Empire today?”

“It looks like we’re on the verge of a new war and they have access to some level of gunpowder, which means it’s time to elevate your work again. There are a series of new weapons I want to implement, but many of them rely on some basic components I need from you. In addition, I expect that the wounds received in this war will be significantly harsher than those of the last one, which means we also need to look at some of our battlefield medicine, which again, must start with you.”

“I have for years attempted to explain to Hortensius that the chemical sciences are the most important of our fields, so in this, at least, you’ve done me a favor by proving that to be true.”

Ky didn’t respond to that. Hortensius and Sorantius got along and made a fine team, but Sorantius always saw them as being in some sort of competition that the more genial Hortensius never played into. Which didn’t stop Sorantius, for some reason.

“Well,” Ky said, not engaging him. “Here are the plans for the first two things I need from you, which are connected. You’ll be processing coal into coal gas and coal tar, each of which will have its own uses and is critical for our next stage of development.”

Sorantius flipped through the pages, reading thoroughly, as he always did. Ky sat patiently, watching him read.

“The process seems straightforward enough,” he finally said. “We’re already heating some products in an airless environment, so it’s really just an extension of that process. Capturing the gas, however, will be harder.”

“Yes, which is what this is for,” Ky said, handing over another set of instructions. “We’ll have a lot of uses for this, which is essentially a system for capturing and containing gas for use elsewhere. Another thing that will have long-ranging uses. The key here is that the coal gas is very flammable and can be dangerous to work with, so it’s important to follow the safety procedures I’ve laid out. Once you start producing coal tar, we can move to your next step, which will ultimately be a replacement for the priming caps and is what we’re actually after. The coal gas has fewer direct military uses, but will be useful for civilians and if we’re already producing one, it makes sense to do both.”

“I see. The quantities you’re listing are pretty significant.”

“I know, and we’ll have to start expanding again. We won’t be making this forever, as there are more advanced and better replacements, but we are nowhere near ready for them. Until then, you’re probably going to have to start up a new line. I, however, have faith in your ability to handle it, as long as you understand it is urgent.”

“I always assume as much.”

Ky handed Sorantius another set of papers. “These are for some medical improvements we’re going to need. Neither will be difficult, although storage will be a problem, at least for this first one. It is saline solution, which is essentially slightly salty water that is close to the level of salt in, say, your sweat or tears. The key part here is that it has to remain pure after production, free from contamination, such as rust, and capable of being completely sterilized. I believe we’ll need to step up glass production pretty significantly.”

“That would be Hortensius’s area.”

“I know, and I already informed him about the need for increased production. What I want to emphasize is the extreme necessity of a sterile production environment.”

“We have the same for some of the acid production.”

“To a degree, although you still rely on the acids themselves to remove biological contamination, which is what I’m worried about here.”

“But you included it in your notes? Correct?” Sorantius asked.

“Yes. I wanted to draw your attention to it.”

“Consider my attention drawn.”

“Yes, this and the burning of seaweed, which, confusingly, seem very straightforward. Both should be easy to produce,” Ky said. “I know it’s more a question of volume than anything else, although the iodine solution needs to remain sterile as well.”

“Yes, I saw that.”

“Good, then I’ll leave you to it. I’ll have more for you soon, although, as before, a lot of it will come through Lucilla, as I am not confident I will make it back to Britannia anytime soon. If our forces do engage east of Germania, as I think they will, I do not want to be all the way back here, waiting on messages through the telegraph.”

“That’s fine. I work well with the Empress.”

“I know. Thank you as always, Sorantius.”

The chemist gave a small bow and left, assuming he was excused to begin planning these new productions with his assistants. Ky couldn’t help but smile at the man’s back. Sorantius might be brusque, but he was a good man. Besides, Ky would prefer prickly over unpredictable any day.

Devnum

Medb barged past the guard standing outside of Ramirus’s office, holding up a hand when the young man tried to say something to her. It was strange that even though she was no longer a queen, her position as first in command of the Empire’s intelligence apparatus had caused people to shy away and even fear her more than they had when she had absolute power.

Stranger still was the fact that Ramirus, who looked more like a grandfather than a spymaster, never received the same reaction. Admittedly, over the last five years she had taken a direct hand in the more difficult assignments they’d been given, mostly dealing with routing out the last Carthaginian holdouts and squashing unrest in Carthage and Italy. While she had been firm and there had been people executed on her orders, the stories she’d heard about herself had been wildly fantastical. And particularly gruesome.

It also didn’t help that instead of squashing these rumors, she’d instructed her agents to bolster them, even adding some flourishes she suggested, to make sure her reputation was secure. She didn’t do it just to feel power again, although she would be lying if she said it didn’t do her ego good. It was useful. She found that level of reputation often led to mistakes and outright retreat of dissident elements without the need to expend blood.

So she didn’t take it personally when the guard flinched away at her warning gesture, as if she was a heavily armed raider.

“We need to talk,” she said as she burst through the door.

Ramirus was completely unflustered, as was his way. He simply took off the small glasses he’d started to use to read, one of the many advancements given to them by the Consul. They were impressive, in spite of the Consul’s repeated apologies for how imprecise and rudimentary the design of them was.

The spymaster set them aside and folded his hands, one on top of the other, and said, “I would assume as much based on your rather dramatic entrance. What can I do for you?”

“I just got yet another lecture from Her Majesty about how little we’ve found out about the easterners’ intentions. I’m sick of being caught empty-handed every time she asks. We have to do something.”

“I agree, but our options are very limited. I have explained that to the Empress, but I can understand her frustration.”

“I can’t. If she knows our options are limited, then why do I keep getting called to task for not achieving anything?”

“Because she is as frustrated as we are,” Ramirus said, annoyingly calm and unbothered. “A port was destroyed and we still know nothing other than a threat looms on the horizon. You should know, as well as anyone, the pressure that can put on a leader. Would you have been more patient with your subordinates?”

“We still need to do something,” Medb said, circling back to the topic again.

He wasn’t wrong, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying so.

“I agree something needs to be done, but I’m not sure we can do anything. At least, not proactively.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that, given our capabilities at the moment, just sending resources to try and get intelligence from the east will, at best, use up those resources with little return. At worst, anyone we send could end up being used against us. You’ve read the same reports I have. The descriptions of these easterners we’ve been able to get all said the same thing, they looked very different than anyone here. As different to Carthaginians and Italians and Egyptians as those people are to the Nubians to the south. The specifics were a little vague, but it was very clear that no one in our employ would pass for one of them, and would easily stand out as a foreigner. Their features, their coloring, it is all very distinctive from ours. Due to these differences, it’s clear our people cannot pass for one of theirs, which explains why we’ve been so completely unsuccessful with any of our attempts to date.”

“There are places in between where I have heard the people have a different look. East of Persia, but still close enough to be in contact with us. Places Alexander conquered. Surely someone recruited from those regions would pass?”

“We have no significant relations with those people. While it is something we can explore, I’m not sure how much we want to rely on people whose loyalty to us would be, at best, paid for. There are those who believe intelligence gathering is a nail that, if hammered enough, can produce results. I am not of that belief. The more you attempt and fail to infiltrate a foreign people, the more suspicious they become, and the more they are on the lookout for further attempts. It is better to wait for the right opportunity and be prepared to take it, to use that to gain a foothold. We would make more headway by putting assets in places along the periphery where we know we can operate, such as Persia or Sarmatia, to act as an early warning system, on the lookout for opportunities.”