Chapter 29

The next morning we all got up at dawn, Lukas had some projects to work on, and we got the bicycles out of the shed after breakfast and cycled to the site. The roads were fine, reasonably flat and not too many potholes or piles of horse-dung.

That would be different in the middle of the city, but to me, cycling through a dung-pile was still preferable to walking around or jumping over one. The traffic got busier towards the site, but my experience with handling the bicycle improved quickly, and I didn't fall or cause an accident.

I even managed to check the people we passed by, and though a lot of them stared at us, they mainly stared at all of us, the bicycles and the riders, not at me in particular.

Like me, they had never seen a bicycle before, and it was puzzling how we could move so fast with just our own strength to propel us, and why we didn't fall over on those two slim wheels. I saw no leering looks thrown at me, and no-one called after me or threatened me.

Maybe Paul had seen something, I did have to watch the road carefully still, so I could have missed some. There were no obstacles between our house and the site, so we managed to cycle the whole distance, and I think we won at least ten minutes compared to walking, on the way over alone.

When we arrived at the gate, we made quite an entrance. I managed to stop without mishap, and Paul of course swung his leg over the saddle with a flourish.

We leaned the bicycles against the inside fence, near the gate, and had to answer all kinds of questions: was it hard to learn, where did we get those things, what were they called.

Paul answered them quickly and efficiently, I saw one carpenter leer, but he leered at me all the time, so he probably did that to all girls.

Soon, we went towards the cabin, and met the architect. He told me he was very pleased I had checked all the materials with my sixth sense, and though he generally didn't believe in them, mine had proven to be an exception and very dependable.

He had seen us come in on the bikes, and he proved he could count to two very adequately: ' So this must be the craftsmaster who made those exquisite little horses, my pleasure to meet you sir, I had you figured for a renowned artist.' I said: 'Paul, may I introduce you to Mr Fritz Fogel, the respected architect from whose brain this building has sprung.

And Mr Fogel, may I introduce Paul Kenwick to you, indeed the maker of the locally famous necklace with the moving horses, and those new-fangled bicycles over there.'

They shook hands and Paul graciously said: 'Thank you very much for the compliments, Mr Fogel, I am looking forward very much to seeing your lovely creation from up close.'

The architect now asked: 'Could I perchance try one of your bicycles during the coffee break? I've always wanted to have a go at one of those, it would save a lot of time and effort moving around in the city.' Paul promised him he could, and we took leave and continued towards the cabin.

The two main contractors were there in a heated discussion when we came in, the glass man saying: 'You earn your own living from their money, who do you think pay for the booming business in our line of work?'

My favorite contractor retorted: 'I know that is true, but women and children, working days of up to ten hours, no wonder they are dying like flies! You wouldn't want your own children living in conditions like these?'

We looked at eachother, ears pricked, for this might concern our factory. The other man said: 'Of course not, but who says they are dying because of the work, they have been working in those factories for years, but this sickness has only just started to claim so many lives.'

And my favourite: 'But I have read in the papers that large numbers of fish have been dying for no apparent reason for weeks now.'

Apparently, we had missed something, and it was clear Paul thought so too, for he did not hesitate to ask: 'Gentlemen, I'm sorry to disturb you in the middle of a discussion, but I couldn't help catching some of your phrases and I'm afraid I have missed some of the news. Would you be so kind as to fill me in?'

'Sure,' the iron contractor said, 'but first let me ask you something, sir: are you by any chance the artist who crafted the lovely copper necklace with horses that really seem to move, which Miss Thorn has taken to wearing since yesterday?'

Paul acknowledged this with a bow, and the contractor said: 'Then I am really pleased to make your acquaintance, my name is Rupert Jones, I am the main contractor on this site, my company has cast the iron frame and installed it, and we are also placing the heating system and organising the landscaping.

Mr James Kent here is responsible for the only element we have no expertise in, the glass paneling.' Paul now shook hands with both: 'Paul Kenwick, indeed master craftsman in the field of cast iron and ornamentation in copper and bronze.

But I also invent conveniences, mainly steam-powered or steam-related. Pleased to meet you both.' The glass contractor now knit his brow: 'Kenwick, that name rings a bell.'

Paul replied, a bit embarrassedly: 'My family has a house in town, and owns some further real estate here, since you're in the business you might have come across the name.'

The iron contractor said: 'You're young to be so skilled, I'll be sure to step by your business soon to talk some shop. But I promised to tell you about the news we were discussing.

Apparently large numbers of fish have been found dead in the river several times the last weeks, without a known cause for their demise, no oxigen starvation, no known disease. It looks like poison.

And just yesterday, several women and children have died suddenly, it seems also from poisoning, but since they all worked in a nearby factory, it is also suspected they may have died from fatigue. A sad business, if you ask me, children should be in school, not in a factory at work.'

Paul looked worried now, and asked: 'Which factory in which quarter, do you know?'

The man answered: 'I think it was a ceramics factory, my wife said she'd never look at her earthenware the same way, now she knew it was made by childrens' hands. It was way downstream at any rate, we only have the wool-factory here, unsavory place though it is, no-one has died there yet. As far as we know.'

Paul thanked him and we took leave, on our way to check the building. We started on the outside, and Paul was as interested in the techniques used as Lukas.

I could see he was memorising things, probably for the glasshouse he was going to build for the Nomes'.

Then the bell rang for the morning break, and he fulfilled his promise to the architect, and any other person who wanted to forgo a cup of coffee for a few yards on a bicycle. I helped too, so we could use two bicycles.

When everyone was back at work, we went inside the building, where some of the piping had been welded inside the ditches, and the boiler had arrived! We went to see it, it was a huge black thing of little beauty, but it looked solid enough.

Paul gave me his hand as I touched the mammoth lump of hollow cast iron, and I felt it for flaws, or to put it in the correct term, I checked it with my sight. The grid was fine, the emanations were staggering, but true.

I couldn't feel a flaw, fortunately, for heads would roll if something was wrong with it and I preferred not to be the bringer of bad news.

'My is it ugly, it hurts both my eyes and my tender feelings,' Paul whispered in my ear.

I asked: 'What would it cost to make a bronze or copper boiler of this size?' He replied: 'I don't think it can be done, copper and bronze are not strong enough to make a hollow vessel this size. But I wonder if iron is, I don't know if this thing will hold up.

I'd probably install several smaller ones in a series I guess, it also prevents total shutdown if one fails. That would cost about half again what this cost, and ornaments would be extra of course. Not too tired?'

I wasn't. Practicing magic every day clearly improved my supply of power. I collected the latest, and nearly last, calculations and drawings at the cabin, and told Paul: 'This job is rapidly approaching its finish, I'm sure I can get another one, but I wonder if I should try to get one step ahead instead. Thanks to the magic I probably could.'

Now Paul turned towards me and said seriously: 'May I ask you to consider quitting it altogether?' My face must have reflected my shock, for I was really disappointed in him: 'What would I want to do that for? To marry you and have children?'

He took my hand and soothingly said: 'Please don't mistake my words, though I'd love to marry you and, yes, in time have children, I didn't mean you should give up your job to be with me.

Actually I do mean you should give up your job to be with me, but only your job, not your work.

I want us to go into business together, make buildings and innovations together, you're an engineer, you can test my ideas, calculate if they're realistic and of course think of your own innovations. We are both sides of a coin, you plan it, I build it. Will you please consider it?'

Relieved that I had misunderstood, and happy he wanted to marry me, I told him: 'I will.' Of course I did that on purpose, my revenge for the shock he gave me.

But he didn't take the bait, he just smiled affably and embraced me, to my distress, for I didn't want to spoil my image of sexlessness, but neither did I want to reject him.

So I tried to answer it as neutrally as possible, and he noticed and said: 'Sorry, I forgot. No hanky panky on the workfloor. Though we've had plenty on mine.'

'And we will again. Let's get the bicycles and go home, I'm all for lunch,' I said.

'And I'm dying for a few kisses, to make up for what I've missed here,' was his unexpected comment. I looked at him in surprise, and observed: 'You really are different.'

'I hope it's an improvement?' he queried. 'We'll have to see about that,' I said, but actually I was thrilled. I might love this new Paul even more, if that was at all possible.

We collected the bicycles and pedaled home. I was still thrilled by the speed and ease with which we moved, and again, I did not see anyone look at me specifically, people stared but I thought mainly at the idea of travelling on two wheels.

Before we knew it we were back home, putting the bicycles away in the shed and entering the workshop through the back door. Lukas was still working, whistling a merry tune, filing a tiny casting.

He looked up, smiled at us and said: 'Let me finish this tiny ornament and I'll join you for lunch.' Paul ruffled his hair, I kissed him on the cheek, and we went upstairs to prepare lunch. But there was not much more to do than make coffee and get the perishables from the cellar, for Lukas had laid out most of what we needed already.

That left us with a few moments, and I asked Paul: 'This counts as a workplace, doesn't it?' He nodded, and I embraced him and kissed him passionately, my hands in his curls and his exiting scent in my nose. Of course he returned my affection with fervor, and we enjoyed a few minutes of intimacy.

When Lukas came in, we had a nice lunch, I changed into something less formal, and we retrieved the bicycles and set off. Lukas kept up easily, I had not realised how fast he could run, he didn't show any strain staying just ahead of us, it looked more like a jog than a run. In the run-down neighborhood, people stared as much, but the roads seemed one big pothole, so I needed all my attention on the road and didn't see a lot of them.

We did manage to cross, and soon were pedaling past the industrial terrain, which was easier because there was no traffic there to spoil the road, it was overgrown with low grass, but not littered with potholes. The neighborhood past the factory had quite a nice road, of course the factory needed easy access for supplies. Soon we reached Sir Nomes' estate and turned into the gate.