Chapter 34

Thursday afternoon Alex was working in his office at the college when he heard a tentative knock at the door.

"Enter!"

Bernard opened the door and stuck his head into the office. "Is this a good time?"

"Yes," said Alex. He indicated a chair in front of his desk. "Come in, close the door, and have a seat, Mr. Linder."

After sitting down Bernard asked, "You had some advice for me?"

"First some questions to see if you understand your assignment. And then some advice."

"Ask away," said Bernard, confidently.

"What is your assignment?"

"Write a report on the economic impact of fuel-free light on the poor. And design a magical fuel-less lamp."

Alex shook his head and sighed. "You weren't listening carefully enough, Mr. Linder. Queen Elsa asked you to write a report on the economic impacts of fuel-free light for the poor. You were thinking of only one side of the situation. You need to also consider the impacts on those who sell the light."

"Whoa," said Bernard as he saw the report he'd imagined he could easily complete in two days spare time grow into something much larger.

"Yes, the task is a bit more formidable than you had thought. Especially if you consider using a range of incomes to define 'poor'. For those with very low income there are no impacts on the providers of light as they won't lose any income. As the income level defining 'poor' rises, the impact on the light providers rises accordingly. In addition, you'll need to estimate the impacts of the light on the revenues of the kingdom, considering the increased taxes due to additional income for the poor and the decreased taxes due to the loss of income for the light providers. This is the kind of analysis Queen Elsa will need to determine how many and who get the lights."

The blood drained out of Bernard's face as the short report he'd envisioned spiraled into something monstrous.

"Breathe Mr. Linder, breathe. It gets worse."

"How could it get worse?" asked Bernard, aghast.

"You need to think and write about the second order effects, Mr. Linder. Here you've distributed wondrous, magical light sources to the poor so they can work to better their lives. How long do you think they'll have them before someone offers them more money than they've ever seen for their magical lamp? How many will understand that the light is a precious gift that can change their lives, and keep their lamps? And how many will sell? And how many who know what they're giving up will be forced by circumstances to sell anyway? And if the price goes high enough, how many lamps will be stolen and how many lives will be ruined in the course of those thefts?"

Bernard broke out in a cold sweat as the magnitude of his task sank in.

"If you're feeling faint, Mr. Linder, put your head between your knees. After all, it's not quite as bad as it seems."

"Really?" came Bernard's muffled voice, sounding weak and forlorn.

"Really. Mr. Soderblum and Miss Soderblum know you've been given this assignment and will probably be willing to help with the report. And I have an idea that may go a long way toward easing those second order effects."

Bernard returned to an upright posture and said, "Oh. Good."

"Feeling better?" asked Alex. When Bernard nodded he asked, "Ready for the next question?"

"What?" Bernard looked shocked.

"Mr. Linder, we've only begun."

Bernard gulped audibly. "Fire away."

"Who are you writing this report for?"

Bernard sighed in relief. This question he could answer. "Queen Elsa. And maybe Princess Anna."

"Um.. no, Mr. Linder. Not ultimately. Although Queen Elsa has the final say in public works projects, your report has to convince her council as well. Queen Elsa is almost certainly better at math than I am, but I would be willing to bet that there are some on her council who, able administrators though they are, aren't conversant with mathematics beyond arithmetic. That's the audience you need to write for. Summarize the statistics, modeling, and mathematics in the body of the report, but you can be certain that Queen Elsa will want to see your work, so include it in appendices as appropriate."

Bernard looked into the future, saw the tightrope he would have to write on, and put his head between his knees again.

Alex asked, "Shall we talk of something more pleasant? Can you tell me some of your ideas for the lamp?"

Bernard sat up as a little color returned to his face.

"I was thinking of a spherical glass bulb enclosing a repeating sequence of created and disintegrated concentric ice shells, each having the same mass and spaced closely enough in time to keep the light from flickering. It would be big enough that you could let each ice shell exist for the full glow time before it was disintegrated and replaced."

"Oh dear," said Alex. "Would you like a bit of advice?"

By this time Bernard was completely overwhelmed and just nodded.

"Think less like a physicist or mathematician and more like an engineer. Don't be wedded to a spherical shape. While it does use the minimal amount of glass and so should be cheaper to produce, think about the costs of fabricating spherical glass envelopes. Your lamp will be much less expensive if you can purchase easily modified pieces off the shelf. Consider a glass beer stein with a plate of glass fused onto it. The components are produced in large quantities and so will be much cheaper in the short term, especially if Queen Elsa only does this once. You might want to consult with Ruth about the fastest and lowest cost method of making a lamp enclosure."

"Do.. do you have any other advice?"

"Make very certain you specify that the ice shells disappear only after they've emitted all their light. Incorporate a very wide safety margin on the timing. If there are several hundreds or thousands of these lamps out and about and the timing on the shells is even slightly short, Queen Elsa will never stop glowing." Alex paused to consider that image and chuckled. "She would not be pleased. Oh, and she's sure to have thought of one or two lamp designs on her own, so if you want to be the one leading the project, your design better be less expensive than hers."

Bernard gulped and said, "I never should have opened my mouth. This report is going to kill me."

"No, Mr. Linder, it won't kill you, but it will test you."

"This is a test? Of what? How little sleep I can survive on?"

"Of course it's a test. Of your knowledge and capabilities. Of your ability to marshall your resources, prioritize, and work under pressure. Of your mettle. Of your dedication to the idea of light for the poor. Think of this as your entrance exam for working up to the post of being the Queen's science advisor."

"But aren't I cheating by asking you for advice?" Bernard asked worriedly.

Alex shrugged and said, "Consider me a resource to be marshalled. When you're close to a final draft I'll review it for you." He smiled. "Mr. Linder, I know the task is daunting, but, while there are drawbacks, the rewards of this type of work are considerable."

"Like what?"

Alex's smile broadened into a wide grin and he said, "Well, for one, you get presented with the most fascinating problems."

Bernard smiled weakly.

"Oh, and someone will need to own the business that fabricates the lamps. You could end up with a nice workshop, and maybe even make a little money. It won't be a lot of money because your business model isn't sustainable."

"Why not?"

"Because the most important component in the manufacture of the lamps is currently a reigning monarch."

Bernard laughed shakily. "Oh. And what are the drawbacks of this type of work?"

"You'll never finish your academic career. Too many interruptions. That's the reason I'm Mister Morris instead of Doctor Morris. Oh, and your life will tend to be a bit more exciting than you may desire."

Bernard took a deep breath and then said, "Professor Morris, thank you. I'm sorry about 'old Bore-us'." He paused and looked perplexed. "But how did you hear it? I thought I was fairly discrete."

"Oh you were. I never actually heard it from you. But it's the obvious sort of nickname I pick up when I teach." Alex chuckled. "It was a virtual certainty that you were using it, so I gave it a shot." He laughed out loud. "You should have seen your face last night."

After racing around the campus, Bernard finally found the Soderblum siblings seated at a table in the college library. "Lena, Edgar, you've got to help me! It's.. it's huge. Monstrous. It's going to be the death of me."

"What?" asked Edgar, as he stood up and looked around. "What is it?"

"This.. this 'opportunity'. You know. The extra credit report I'm supposed to write."

"Calm down, Bernard," said Lena. "It didn't sound like it was that big a project last night. What changed?"

"One word. One single, horribly significant word."

Edgar sat down again, and Bernard joined him and Lena at the table.

"After we dropped you at home last night Professor Morris suggested I see him to get some advice on writing the report," said Bernard. "So I did."

"And? Why the panic?" asked Edgar.

"This isn't going to be easy," said Bernard. As he described the conversation with Alex, Lena and Edgar's mouths dropped open as they realized the enormity of the task ahead of him.

"Well," said Edgar, "it was nice knowing you. That report will be the death of you."

Lena scowled at Edgar and slapped his shoulder, then turned to Bernard and said, "No, it won't. Edgar and I will help." She grinned. "But we'll want co-authorship."

"Yes! Absolutely! Gladly! Thank you," said Bernard, looking relieved.

"So where do we start?" asked Edgar.

"Well, we need data," said Bernard. "How many people there are at every income level, how many do what for a living, the impact light would have on their lives, whether they can afford light now and how much, and.. and.. and where are we going to find all that?"

Lena stood up and beckoned for Bernard and Edgar to follow her. She walked into the reference stacks of the library and pointed at a thick and dusty book. It didn't look like it had been touched in months. "That's the statistical report from the last census. I'm not sure the information is broken down in just the way we want it, but with some work, and a lot of arithmetic, I think we can get most of what we need."

"Why do you even know that book exists?" asked Edgar.

"I'd rather not say," said Lena looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Why not?" asked Edgar. He smirked. "Come on, you know I'm going to badger you until you tell me."

Lena sighed. "If you must know, I wanted to find out how common my name was and the reference librarian pointed it out to me."

That evening and most of the next morning Bernard (one in a thousand boys), Edgar (one in four hundred boys), and Lena (one in one hundred eighty girls) pored over the census report. They mapped out the where the data they would need could be found and figured out how they would have to massage that data to distill the actual information they wanted.

Ruth was stacking the glass tubes from the disassembled snowflake drop tower back into the storage bins in her workshop when she heard a knock at the door. She made sure nothing would fall, then went to look through the door's window. Bernard was there, looking harried and haggard. She opened the door, smiled, and said, "Hi Bernard. What can I do for you?"

"Hi Ruth. Do you have a little time to talk about glass? Your father suggested I ask you about it."

"This about the magic lamp?"

"Yep."

"What do you want to know?"

"At this point I just need someone to tell me if I'm doing something stupid."

"I can do that." said Ruth. "Go ahead, describe your lamp. If you hear me snickering, you'll know you've gone wrong."

"Thanks. I think," said Bernard. "Anyway, my initial design has a spherical glass envelope for the ice to materialize in."

Ruth shook her head. "A specially designed spherical envelope is more trouble than it's worth. Especially when you can buy stock tubing. Oh! Or wine bottles. They're made by the thousands, and come in standard sizes. They're cheap, the corks make an airtight seal, and they're sturdy enough to hold a vacuum."

"Aren't wine bottles colored?"

"Not all of them. Some of the wine bottles used in Bordeaux are clear. And a lot of them are manufactured in Corona." Ruth grinned. "Would you like me to write to some of my friends in the glass business? Get a price quote on a couple thousand clear wine bottles?

"Is..," Bernard gulped, "Isn't that going to cost a lot?"

"The bottles'll be coming out of stock. It'll be a lot cheaper than tooling up for blowing lots of spheres and getting them to Arendelle before the fjord freezes."

"Oh. Ok, thanks, I'd appreciate it. At this point there's no knowing if the project will go forward, but it can't hurt to find out."

Ruth was about to say something else when the clock on the workshop wall caught her eye. "Hey, don't you have my Dad's lab course in a half hour? Magic lamp or not, if you want to stay on Dad's good side, you won't miss his class."

"Aargh! Where does the time go! Can you give me a rough estimate of how much the wine bottles are likely to cost?"

"I'd guess somewhere around two skilling apiece."

"Really? That's.. well, it's not unreasonable. Thanks, Ruth. I've gotta run."

By Monday, Bernard, Lena, and Edgar were having trouble remembering what day it was. But the statistics had been gathered, simple models of the economy in the lower strata of society had been developed, the equations had been solved and the solutions had been examined for reasonableness. Monday night, instead of continuing on and writing until they collapsed, Bernard, Lena, and Edgar went home to their beds and got a good night sleep.

Tuesday was spent writing. Tuesday afternoon Alex bled red ink over the report and design document. Tuesday night was spent revising. As the sun dawned on Wednesday morning the sixty page long handwritten report (forty pages of which were appendices), and the ten page preliminary lamp design were finished.

The team delivered their results to Alex's office and requested that he collect them on his way to see the Queen that afternoon. Then they went to their respective homes and collapsed.

A/N - One of the nice data sets on the US social security web site (socialsecurity dot gov slash OACT slash babynames), is the statistics about the popularity of baby names since the 1880s. Number 1 names in 1880 were John (8.2% of the boys) and Mary (7.2% of the girls). In 2013 the number 1 names were Noah (0.9% of the boys) and Sophie (1.1% of the girls). How many internets do you want to bet that Elsa and Anna will be in the top twenty names for female babies sometime within the next decade? Anna was ranked 35th in 2013, Elsa was ranked 528th. Maybe Elsa won't make it into the top twenty. When we named her, my wife and I used the website to check that our daughter's name was uncommon enough that she'd probably be the only one with that name in her class room, but common enough that everyone would spell it correctly (and she could have a bicycle license plate).

The spherical bauble Christmas ornament was developed in Germany in the late 1840s. Too late for this story. Anyway, they're a bit too small and fragile for the purposes of magical lighting.

I want to thank the reviewers of Chapter 33: Concolor44, Morgaine2005, PascalDragon, ptahaegyptus2, Skystormrunner, and the repeating Guest. I enjoy your reviews and responding to them. To the guest reviewer, I'm aware of the breaks from consistency with the light. I'm just ignoring them.

Ptahaegyptus2's review of this chapter noted the lack of review before the report is presented. I've made minor adjustments to incorporate a review by Alex on Tuesday afternoon.

Finally, some housekeeping. I started posting this story with a lead of twelve chapters. At this point, that's been whittled down to three. I don't feel I can do a proper job with that little buffer space. This story will going on hiatus after next week's chapter for approximately five weeks to account for holiday travel, a niece's wedding, and buffing up my buffer. This hiatus will end on January 18th at the latest. I'm sorry to interrupt the regularly scheduled release of this story. I know I'll miss the feedback.