The Revolutionary Engine (2)
The debut of a commercial steam engine, arriving over thirty years ahead of its historical timeline.
Standing alone, that sentence sounds nothing short of cataclysmic—revolutionary, astonishing, shocking, worthy of every hyperbolic exclamation imaginable. But in truth, that awe was reserved solely for those with foreknowledge of the future.
He had given his father-in-law and Theresa a brief demonstration, but even their reactions diverged subtly.
Of course, both were utterly stunned and lavished it with praise, calling it magnificent.
Yet emotions like astonishment come in degrees of intensity.
Karl VI fixated on the engine's sheer, astounding power, while Theresa, conversely, showed greater interest in its potential applications.
No explanation needed for whose reaction grasped the engine's true value with the most fervor.
"So, Father! This isn't just for lifting heavy loads or pulling things, right? Isn't that so, Franz?"
"I was just about to elaborate—you're quick on the uptake. Enabling labor impossible for human hands means the entire structure of industry could be transformed."
Thud! Thud! Thud!
A massive hammer, taller than a man, rhythmically pounded a lump of iron, thunderous roars echoing through the hall.
Water from a deep pit in one corner of the demonstration site surged ferociously through a giant pump, cascading into the adjacent channel.
Thick logs passed before reciprocating saw blades, shredded into planks in seconds.
Witnessing not just raw power but its ingenious application, Karl VI's eyes widened to their limits.
"Franz, don't tell me... this could be used for weapon production too?"
"Yes. Not just cannons or rifles—everything Your Majesty can imagine will see production times slashed dramatically."
"Everything I can imagine..."
"To draw a bold analogy: once these steam engines spread across the nation and permeate countless industries, we'll inhabit a world utterly unlike our own. Just as humanity's discovery of fire and the dawn of agriculture reshaped history, our world now stands on the cusp of another great leap."
We could dig mines deeper than ever before, produce iron on an incomparable scale, transport goods unimaginable in mere days.
The arrival of steampunk Rome, truly.
More convincing than any rhetoric or speech, the demonstration left Karl VI buzzing with excitement all the way back.
"So much is going to change."
Theresa murmured her impressions, laced with eager anticipation yet tinged with the faintest shadow of fear.
"Let's secure a patent first thing."
Theresa, who had seemed lost in thought on the return to the palace, finally spoke.
"Bundling it as an imperial privilege (kaiserliches Privileg) will make it an impenetrable shield—no one in the Holy Roman Empire could touch it."
"True enough. Any attempt to steal the technology would be high treason."
"Even foreigners will tread carefully. International patent rights may not be guaranteed, but it would still violate the Holy Roman Emperor's property."
Unauthorized patent infringement or industrial espionage were so commonplace in this era that avoiding them marked one a fool.
But when the target was a royal house? Caution was inevitable.
Missteps could escalate to diplomatic incidents—or even provide casus belli for war.
Besides, perfectly replicating this improved steam engine with current-era tech bordered on impossible.
Core elements like precision boring machines for cylinders, exact piston ring alloys and machining, high-pressure boiler welds—none would be disclosed.
This was a compromise born of his exhaustive ingenuity, tailored to contemporary material processing; normal methods wouldn't suffice.
At best, they'd need to let it mature for 10 to 15 years until overall tech levels caught up.
Or pay exorbitant licensing fees to import his manufactured units.
He flipped through Theresa's draft patent, scanning the key clauses.
"This device is prohibited from manufacture, replication, or sale anywhere in Austria or the Holy Roman Empire for 25 years, except by the inventor Franz Stefan or his designees.
Unauthorized use outside the Empire shall be deemed theft of imperial property (Diebstahl der Kameral-Güter)."
"We'll publish it three times consecutively in your newspapers and the gazettes of every principality. As stated, any noble or prince violating this within the Empire will face immediate punishment for plundering imperial assets."
This should let him dive into opening the new era without worry.
Yet unlike his beaming father-in-law, Theresa's expression wasn't radiant.
His father-in-law had been like a child unwrapping a full set of dinosaur-robot toys.
"Is something bothering you?"
"Not exactly... just grandmotherly worries. Thinking about how much this will change the world fills me with excitement and trepidation, but I can't quite pinpoint what. Without a clear vision of the future, it's hard to feel confident we'll handle it well."
Valid concern. He knew post-industrial paths from his knowledge, but for the ignorant, grasping that steam engines would upend society was no small leap.
Leaders bearing nations couldn't help but fret if they'd rise to the challenge.
His father-in-law—the Emperor—had skipped that phase, trusting his son-in-law and daughter implicitly.
"That's natural. Far better than overweening arrogance."
"Yet you seem untroubled, for all your words."
"I've wrestled with machines long enough to have mulled it over. Still, worries remain—plenty without clear answers."
If Theresa fretted unseen futures, he ached over elements insoluble at this stage.
"Like what, for instance?"
"Food, naturally."
"...Food? With your steam engine? Can't it power agricultural machines too? And iron output will skyrocket, boosting farm yields surely?"
"That much, yes."
Molten iron quality rose with stronger air blasts, but current charcoal, leather bellows, and hearths had hit limits.
Directly coupling blowers to steam engines for sustained high-heat, high-pressure air would dramatically boost efficiency.
Simple math: iron ingot costs drop over 30% per ton.
Add agromachines for vast tillage, railroads for cheap surplus transport—short-term, food output surges.
But.
"No matter the effort, food production has limits. Better tools, advanced methods, swift transport—master them, and we'll prosper briefly."
"If we can prosper, isn't that enough? Wait... briefly?"
"Yes. Imagine: tech advances, populations cluster, consumption rises naturally. No more starvation means birth rates explode. One or two generations? Fine. But repeated? Can food growth match population explosion?"
With medicine and hygiene slashing mortality, population becomes a runaway locomotive.
Enter that infamous theory: Malthus's Essay on the Principle of Population.
In sum: food arithmetic, population geometric—overpopulation spells inescapable poverty and famine, a hopeless apocalypse.
Europe's imperial governments wielded it to justify welfare cuts and colonial plunder.
Can't let our own starve, so raid the neighbors' granaries—logical, no?
Malthus, preaching abstinence, would weep blood at such perversion.
But what recourse against Europeans who twisted "all men equal before God" to oppress American natives?
Theresa paled at this summary.
"That's... Satanic. A way no Christian order should follow."
"No. Think: Europe already lives it, theory or not."
Europe's scraps too meager? Plunder overseas.
Stealing neighbors' stores to fill your own pockets.
"...So you predict this trend intensifying worldwide? Is that why you held back details before Father?"
"Not the cheeriest analysis."
Industrial Revolution forty to fifty years early, optimized—growth pace defies even his predictions.
Certain: steeper than original history, populations booming faster.
Hell on earth hastened? Fortunately, he knew humanity's escape from the Malthusian trap.
Nitrogen fixation—the Haber-Bosch process—unlocks unlimited food.
Problem: requires extreme pressures impossible now, even postmortem.
Electricity sourcing? Headache incarnate.
Unless tech ascends optimally till his death—easier said than done.
"So, Theresa. Austria must lead tech innovation, untouchable. You'll ease my load on admin and diplomacy."
"Already doing that. I'll help all I can."
"With our fourth child due next year, I hate burdening you more."
Three girls so far—next likely the heir, firstborn son.
Theresa would busy herself manifold; delegating felt uneasy.
"Pish, no worries. I juggle three daughters and work fine. One more? Servants handle it. And..."
Theresa smiled gently, caressing her belly.
"I want this child to see a world more beautiful than ours."
His lips curved upward naturally.
"We'll make it so."
"Yes. We will."
As they savored the warm silence, the door opened softly. Kaunitz entered.
"Your Highness."
"What is it?"
Now doubling as his chief secretary, Kaunitz glanced between them, voice hushed.
"France has declared war on Britain."
Here it comes. Perfect timing.