Field Trials i
Posted: Tue May 31, 2022 11:58 pm
L ' I M A G I N A T I O N
G O U V E R N E • L E • M O N D E
G O U V E R N E • L E • M O N D E
Glade 20, 122 Age of Steel
The successes of Anton's Ash and Frost terms at the Institute had not gone unnoticed, between the explosive success of his research project and his insights into every research project he had gotten his hands on, he had been marked as a rising star. Already there were whispers of an early graduation, so his talents might be put to better use within the Hall of Inventors, or to send him abroad to finish his studies at the Academy in Gel'Grandal, but the College had its own influence in such matters. For better or for worse, Professor Haber had plans in mind for his brightest pupil, and would not see him taken away so easily. With war declared at last between Zaichaer and Kalzasi, he had need of him.
Such academic intrigues and politics were of course conducted out of the student's sight, and as far as Anton was concerned the turn of the year meant he was another year older and had another slate of classes to prepare for. The invitation to sit down with Professor Haber to discuss his next project was not a complete surprise, but it was pleasant nonetheless. He was to arrive at the man's office rather late, and on an Eikaeus no less, and was instructed to wear something that he didn't mind catching on fire.
Instructions like these were not totally out of the norm, especially for Haber, and Anton once more pulled out the soot covered clothing he had worn when working on the electric arc furnace back in Ash. Arriving at the university, its windows lit with electric lights, causing the great glass dome to gleam even in the night, he moved far more confidently throughout the halls than he had when first attending classes. Familiarity with the campus and growing mastery of his Rune both contributed to him being able to simply stride forward, like any other student. He was given few glances as he made his way to the office, many students from poorer backgrounds lived in the dormitories, and foot traffic this late on the weekend was common. If anything, the only thing odd about him was that he was sober.
"Ahhh, Anton, Anton, come in!" Professor Haber shouted as soon as the lordling entered the door, finding the office even more chaotic than usual. The scientist's home away from home had always been a mess of diagrams and prototypes, project notes and funding requests, but this was something different. Behind the professor were a small circle of older students, mostly men but with more women than the more conservative sorts would ever permit this far into academia, huddled about... something. "Everyone, this is the Michaelis boy I go on about. Anton, my doctoral candidates, I'm sure you've seen them out and about. This is my picked lot you know, Otto's own you might say," he said somewhat proudly, even though absolutely no one referred to the coterie of scientists that way.
"Professor Ha-" Anton began, only to be immediately interrupted.
"Otto, my boy, please, call me Otto. You've earnt that much. By the Empty Throne, it's been six months and look at you," he said, sharp interjection relaxing into a paternalistic smile.
"...Otto, what did you need from me?"
"Look at him, always stern and serious. Just like your father you are, he never cracked a smile in any of our classes together. If you are to be a part of this, Anton, you must learn how to relax."
"A part of what pro- Otto?"
The academic paused for a moment, before letting out a soft laugh. "Oh, yes, that's right. I never did say, now did I? Well, I would like to bring you on full time of course. No more wasting your talents on my side efforts, you've proven yourself more than capable of holding your own with us. What do you say, Anton? Care to join the real work?"
As he asked the question, a soft explosion sounded from the table the professors-to-be were crowded around, causing a series of raucous cheers. None of them had paid much mind to the young undergrad, or their advisor talking to him, instead intent upon the work at hand. It reminded Anton of, well, himself, when he was fully focused upon a project. Haber was right, he had seen them before. They were the leaders and main researchers of the earlier projects he had worked on, second only to the perennially busy professor, and almost as learned. This wasn't a mere vote of confidence, it was all but stating that Anton had leapfrogged over the start of his academic career and was already on the cusp of true expertise.
"Of course, pro- Otto, how could I say no?"
"That's the spirit! Doesn't even know what he's working on and he's already onboard. Come, come, take a look!" the professor said, pulling Anton in and forcing the crowd of grad students to part around them. They had been clustered around a scale model of a cannon, complete with carriage, and its barrel was still smoking. A minute sliver of dragonshard had been placed down the evidently fully functional barrel, and a match was brought to its hair-width wide fuse as the researchers ran another test. Again, another soft explosion, but this time Anton made sure to examine the entire assembly, watching as the toy sized artillery piece swung gently from the opposing force generated by the shot.
"Now I'm sure you know that advances in metallurgy had made every year, and with them cannons have gotten smaller and lighter. As a result of this, the entire system must change. Systems, Anton, systems! A change in one variable effects the body as a whole," he announced in a boisterous voice. His doctoral candidates continue working, unperturbed. It seemed that they were used to such outbursts from the older man - which wasn't a shock, Anton was becoming rapidly accustomed to them as well.
"So this is a model of a new carriage and limber?" Anton ventured, arcane gaze peering over the assembly. It was finely tuned, like a miniature violin that had been wrought by expert hands to still play every note perfectly.
"Exactly so! But this is not why I've called you here. We're almost done with the carriage I'm afraid, no time left to get you any credit or glory on it. A full scale prototype will be in field trials by mid-Searing, and the first of a new model of artillery battery in the army's hands just in time for a Glade offensive." He seemed inordinately proud of this, and if he showed any concern about sharing military secrets, Anton's last name seemed to paper over such fears. After all, the Generals Michaelis would be among the men granted such weapons when they were at last ready.
The sum of an artillery battery consisted of three parts. The first was the battery itself, the physical cannon and carriage, which Haber and his students had already evidently gotten to an appropriate state. The second was the artillery crew, but as of yet no mundane science had devised a way to improve them beyond enhancing their tools. Which left only one thing. "You're working on a new type of shot."
That deduction at least drew a measure of respect from the other students, one of them looking up from his notebook to give a curt nod of acknowledgement to Anton before going back to his figures. Professor Haber was, as ever, far more gregarious. "A general's son through and through! Yes, a new type of shot, to better fit the new barrels. Oh, true, the boys in the Hall made sure that their new guns could fire any shell in the arsenal, but there is always room for improvement."
"And you want to be the one to make the improvement."
A predatory, hungry glean entered the kindly man's eyes as Anton called him out. As nice as he seemed, he had survived within the cutthroat ranks of academia for decades and had managed to claw his way up to a tenured research position. Men did not acquire such by playing nice or avoiding the research prospects of their colleagues. "Yes, and there's not a moment to lose. My dear colleagues are resting on their laurels, thinking that I'm content with the scraps that they threw at my feet. Bah! Never forget, young man, that the greatest folly one can fall victim to is overconfidence."
"When do we start?" Anton asked, already knowing the answer.
"Why, tonight," Haber said, back to his old self. "We were just finishing with the model before finalizing the design, the last tweaks you know," he continued on as he opened a wooden box. Inside was a plaster mold, in the indisputable shape of a caster shell. "None of us are Runeforgers, of course, the Minders are so keen on keeping them separated from us. But... the Grungeworks cast the outer shell, the casing if you will, for the actual refined shard in batch lots. It's the only way to have a proper economy of scale you see."
"So improvements made to the template shell..."
"Improve the performance of the final projectile. Quite right. Now, if you'll come over here, we have a number of dragonshards to test with. We have to get ourselves to the field, I've convinced a lieutenant to leave his battery out on the grounds."