A Very Good Conversation Tool
"See? Cannons really are a wonderful conversation tool!"
Now then, my dear friends of the Explosion Society.
They were working their tails off at some of the most miserable, filthy labor imaginable. There they were down at the shore, harvesting seaweed for raw materials, and collecting urine in the sparsest stretch of population near Sinsi — because the more people, the more urine, apparently. The coastal road running from Sinsi down toward Ryeonhwa was exactly the kind of half-empty place they needed.
Gunpowder output had been exploding lately, and just recently they'd even started experimenting with weapons of their own. I thought, how admirable...
「Boom. Boom-boom. Boom. BANG.」
"Wow... how many of those wretched things are they firing?"
"Well, at least they stop by evening, Your Holiness..."
"If they'd kept shooting at night too, I'd have thrown the lot of them into the Temple."
Claiming it was weapons and gunpowder testing, they'd started firing day and night without rest. And then, having heard it while sailing past, the Intelligence Bureau and the Navy had come swarming in — and now they were all playing together!
"But the results have been quite good, haven't they?"
"Good, sure — but they're still a long way from anything the army could actually use, aren't they?"
Production wasn't even up to scratch yet, and already the military had caught the scent and was whining for it.
Make us some of those~ We waaaant to use them~
Hoo... little brats, the whole lot of them.
"Gunpowder production isn't all that high yet, is it?"
"We're confident we can produce as much as needed once we expand properly and finish outfitting the facilities."
Just how much gunpowder do you think you're making out of urine?
"How much can you possibly get from collecting Sinsi's pee?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Am I wrong?"
"These days the military's gotten involved too, and everyone's in an uproar over the sewer construction!"
Oh! My! God! Look, I'm all for them building sewers, but what's the population here? Is piping going to actually solve this?
"Is that even possible?"
"Yes — for now they're building an enormous waterway."
"A waterway?"
Shouldn't that be practically canal-sized? Wow... not a canal for shipping, but a canal for collecting urine?
Well, I suppose the capital region has a population of a hundred and thirty million. Systematize it and you really could produce an enormous amount, but still...
"R-right. Say they build it. Does the Explosion Society even have that many people?"
"The military has agreed to support the effort alongside us."
Helping each other out, are we? Isn't it going to absolutely reek, though?
"And the Artisans' Guild took a liking to the project as well, so they're supporting it enthusiastically. They're developing new steam-powered equipment and preparing everything to make the work easier!"
Why on earth is everyone so united about this? First time in three thousand years of history, isn't it?
"Did that weapon really charm you all that much?"
"The sound of it, and the way it just blasts things apart — it's simply magnificent!"
Feeling like you're enjoying this a bit too much yourself?
"But if you just fire it off for fun with nothing to shoot at, aren't you just delivering free metal to your enemies?"
"We're thinking through all sorts of ammunition options."
Planning to lob rocks, are you? Carving stones wouldn't be any small task either...
And you'd still need the manpower, wouldn't you?
"How much spare labor do we even have?"
Weapons are only worth making when the nation has hands to spare, no? Couldn't they just exercise a little patience?
"Plenty to spare. Now that the Gulleongsoe tractors exist, we have a growing surplus of labor."
Hm. So that's a no, is it?
Mm. Not the answer I wanted, but it sounds like industrialization really is creeping along, doesn't it? See? Nothing works until the steam engine shows up.
Which reminds me — what about the air pollution...
"If you run too many of those Gulleongsoe machines, the air's going to get nasty. Keep a close eye on it."
"Should I? I'll start by monitoring Moda."
"Yes, Moda's air is bound to sour first."
"It seemed to clear up quickly, though. Surely it'll be all right?"
Even when I visited before, there seemed to be a haze of fine dust hanging about. That should be reassuring... or not? Is it the abundance of trees slowing things down?
If it gets worse later, we'll just have to split the city in two.
"Right! Since you're building the things anyway, work out a way to aim them precisely. What a waste to just fling shots into the sky."
"Of course! And if we miss, we can always hang the culprits in the Temple."
Hitting what you aim at is hardly going to be that easy, though?
Hm. They'd been blasting away so relentlessly that I gave up and went to watch for a while — and these rascals? They'd gone and built actual cannons after all.
Skipping straight past bronze and cast iron, apparently, because a surprising number of the cannons were small and light for their kind. When they summoned me for a test firing, the little ones — the kind a person could carry and fire — genuinely startled me.
The big ones launched round shot, but they fired giant log-like arrows too, of all things?
Now they came trundling over one by one, declaring it was all finished and they simply had to show me...
"So you dragged these here to show off?"
"Aren't they magnificent?"
Do you really have to look that hopelessly in love with them? Save those eyes for your wife and kids at home. Might even change what's for dinner.
"We're going to name them!"
"Name them whatever you like?"
"These will become mighty weapons! We can't slap just any name on them!"
Hmm. Cannons really are an excellent conversation tool, though...
"Conversation..."
"Oh! Perfect! Conversation-One!Conversation-Two! Brilliant, Your Holiness!"
"...Huh?"
That was just me muttering to myself? You do realize that if this ever gets translated over in the English-speaking world, it's going to read like Speaking One, Speaking Two, right?
Ah, whatever. It's not like I haven't already ruined a thing or two. By the time that happens there'll be a president to deal with it, I'm sure.
"Fine... as long as you're happy."
"Thank you, Your Holiness!"
They'd also brought along something like grenades — the things were the size of my head — but since the little rascals carried them one-handed, I named them Fist Potatoes.
And so, in Daehan Year 3110, we acquired a truly fine conversation tool.
Wait — so these brats can't manage to hurry up the steam locomotive, but they whip out utterly unrelated things at a blistering pace? Took them nearly three years, didn't it?
Just wait until the locomotive actually appears — they'll lose their minds completely.
"So how many of these are you planning to make?"
"As many as we need?"
"Won't gunpowder run short...?"
"Judging by the sewer construction and current expansion trends, it shouldn't be a problem."
How strange. You can really extract this much saltpeter from urine? Maybe we don't need mines at all?
"Even so, keep the mines we scouted out properly secured. If war ever breaks out, we'll burn through it by the mountainful. The supply planning alone looks like a nightmare, hah..."
"True, isn't it? An invasion would be dreadfully difficult."
"Is that your concern? Defense is a problem too, you know."
Store the powder even slightly wrong and the whole lot becomes useless, after all.
"Order them to keep researching storage methods — and honestly, we need that train finished quickly, don't we?"
"Why, Your Holiness?"
Because the train is more urgent, you absolute madman.
"Yes. Your very life depends on it."
"Wh... why?!"
"I tell you to hurry up the locomotive, and instead you dither around while rushing weapons through production? Shall we all just die, then?"
"That's too harsh!"
Right — this time the whip is called for!
"Good? Then tell the weapon-makers to go help with the train too. If they want to use their precious weapons, they'll need trains to haul them anywhere, won't they?"
"Ah! That would work! They do work tremendously hard."
So your plan is to shove it all off onto the children, is it?
"Handle it yourself. You're the only one I'm sending to the Temple."
"Why?!"
"There are only so many of the children down there. How am I supposed to drag each and every one of them off to the Temple myself?"
You, I'm shipping off. You alone.
.
.
.
I'd been sending the Chancellor off to the Temple roughly once every five years? And he came back absolutely delighted every time.
After his second trip I was debating whether a third was due, but he came running back to me in tears, pleading that he was still useful, so I let him off. He'd already made several runs down to Seonnam, and this time, since the line ran straight to the international trade city, he insisted on taking me aboard. It was a frivolous indulgence — but he said I had my own private passenger car, so aboard I went.
"Wow~ That thing's head is enormous!"
In my memory, steam locomotives had been painted black through and through, but this one was silver? The power of steel, perhaps? Overall it was rounded and rather cute-looking. Though wasn't it awfully big? No joke — it looked like something that should barely manage to move after boiling one kettle's worth of water.
Truly remarkable craftsmanship, though. How on earth did they manage this?
「Weeeeeee—」
"All aboard, please!"
"Whoa! It's a train!"
"Come on, let's get on already!"
The moment the crew called for boarding, the platform dissolved into a seething crowd.
Was it really that wondrous? Five freight cars, with seating in five places — they were so big that it looked like the train could haul a staggering amount.
"Shall we board, Your Holiness?"
"Yes."
I climbed into the passenger car and — oh my. How gaudy.
There was a bed, a cooking area, gold and silver ornamentation scattered everywhere. And though there weren't many, there were even inset windows offering a view outside.
「Weeeeeee!」
"It appears we're departing."
With the whistle's cry, the train began to move, slowly and steadily.
"Huh? It actually moves? And here I was worried it wouldn't."
"It does stall now and then, but don't worry — today we have an engineer who's made the run many times."
It stalls? This thing?
"Isn't that a serious problem?"
"It doesn't happen often. Hills are the issue. They worked themselves ragged ensuring the train doesn't stop on an incline, even if it has to slow down a little."
Whoa. If this thing stalled on a hill there'd be no pushing it, and chaos would erupt?
Had I been too hard on the children? Come to think of it, they'd have to climb hills too — no wonder they'd been tearing their hair out over why the thing wouldn't run, having only ever thought in terms of flat ground...
"So it's not exactly fast..."
"Isn't this fast enough? I'm told it's a little quicker than a courier horse at a full gallop."
You're pleased because it's about as fast as a horse? Well, machines don't tire — they just keep running — so in the end the gap would become enormous, wouldn't it.
"Then how long to reach Seonnam?"
"About five days."
"It really is far."
"Still, isn't it a distance you couldn't have dreamed of traveling in the old days?"
Truly — spending months on the road versus hopping over to a nearby mountain or the sea? No contest.
And even though we'd simply named the place Mudo — the international trade city — perhaps because it was full of wonders, quite a few people traveled there just to sightsee like this.
After all, Daehan's cultural life amounted to worship services at the Temple, messing around with musical instruments, and exercise. That was about it.
We'd smuggled plenty of things home from abroad, but there had never been anything like genuine cultural exchange, had there?
Now that the trade city existed, though, all sorts of religious buildings and cultural performances had moved in, and there was plenty to see.
"By the way — someone's going to steal these windows, aren't they?"
They'd installed glass so transparent it was practically invisible. In this era, glass this clear would fetch more than gold, wouldn't it?
"The children will guard it, so please don't worry."
"Well, if someone makes off with it, so be it."
Still, since it was clear glass, you could look outside without opening the window at all — rather nice, that.
Though even if the windows could open, it seemed wise not to open them. Black smoke billowing past... heh.
Truly, there wasn't a shred of romance left in this world.
All that western-movie glamour of flinging open your window and gazing out at the frontier? Absolute garbage. One look at the smoke and dust swirling out there and you'd contract lung disease on the spot.
And the train pressed patiently onward.
It was slow for now, but if it could pull ten-odd cars, that alone was already a logistics revolution.
Along the way we passed Lake Baikal — a lake so vast you could honestly mistake it for the open sea.
Come to think of it, hadn't the settlers of Haeryeong founded the city believing it was the sea?
"But isn't this awfully cold?"
"It is a cold region, Your Holiness. Hardly anything to be done."
"It must be brutal in winter?"
It was May, and my breath was already puffing white. Far too cold.
"I should tell them to make sure everyone travels with quilts and blankets."
"Yes. People suffered terribly at first, but word has spread and now everyone packs well. Some of the passengers ride the loop line regularly, so they'll have prepared thoroughly."
Of course they would. Our train is the Siberia Loop Line, after all.
As if to snub the cities up there in the north, they'd laid the rails in a full, genuine circuit around Siberia.
It would probably stretch far longer than the Trans-Siberian Railway they once laid in Russia, wouldn't it?