The Horseless Carriage
Clack-clatter, clack-clatter.
Once again today, Dong-ja and Marie were happily tinkering with a bicycle together.
"If the engine gets bigger, will it get stronger too?"
Marie chattered away at his side like a sparrow, and even with grease smeared all over her hands, she seemed to be having the time of her life.
"Yep, it will. But there'll be more and more things to consider."
Watching Dong-ja patiently walk her through every question without a trace of annoyance, anyone could see the two of them were made for each other.
"Is it really that hard?"
"It is. The heat alone gets much worse, so we'd need everything from new materials to a way of cooling the engine down."
It was all bound to grow more complex and difficult — for the two of them, the work was becoming enormous.
"Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing... I just thought it'd be nice if it could pull a carriage."
"Ha! Funnily enough, I've been thinking the same thing every evening lately."
He had written up a report and submitted it, but with no word from above on what they thought of it, he was focusing on polishing the current engine to perfection in the meantime.
Verifying the proper fuel intake, finding the right clutch and brakes — over the past year, he had produced something that came very close to a finished product.
"A carriage that moves by itself... The world really would become a much easier place to live in, wouldn't it?"
"That's what I think too. But maybe the higher-ups disagree? They haven't given us an answer."
"What a shame..."
The couple's faces fell in an instant.
And to any observer, it was clearly remarkable technology.
Thud-thud-thud.
"Is anyone here?"
Visitors had come to the couple's workshop.
"Hm? Who could that be?"
"We should go see! Yes! Coming~!"
Stepping outside, the couple found themselves facing some twenty intimidating-looking men standing in a row.
"Gasp..."
"Oh my goodness..."
"Did we do something wrong?"
"Could it be because we've been riding bicycles all over the place?"
Men like these never came to the research district uninvited — and judging by their bulk, they looked more than capable of handling themselves in a fight.
The couple's faces went pale with fear.
"Please, don't be alarmed. We've been sent by Haneul-nim through the Daehan Company."
"I'm sorry — the Daehan Company?"
"Haneul-nim sent you!?"
Daehan may not have had lottery tickets, but it had something better: the Daehan Company or Haneul-nim sending people to your door. The couple had just hit the jackpot.
"WAAAAH!"
"KYAAAAH!"
Sending this many people could only mean the couple's work was deemed extraordinarily important.
The two clung to each other, tears streaming down faces split wide with beaming smiles.
They might as well have been the most blessed daughters of Daehan.
"Will you come with us? Anything you need, we'll provide."
"Yes, of course!"
"We're going, no question about it!"
Working alongside these men, the couple's dream of building a self-moving carriage would accelerate like a country road through the rice paddies transforming into a full-blown highway.
Whatever they needed, all they had to do was write it up in a request and submit the paperwork — the master craftsmen would build them piles of it.
Even if it happened to be baby clothes.
Marie hadn't yet gotten morning sickness, so no one had noticed — but her belly wasn't growing from extra weight. A child was growing inside her.
"Then let's leave right away. We'll sort out your belongings and bring them along."
"Yes!"
"Sniff! This is wonderful!"
It looked to be a year full of good fortune for the couple.
At Haneul's suggestion, the couple's residence — or rather, their factory — was sited in Moda.
He had recommended the City of Steel on the grounds that automobile manufacturing devoured enormous quantities of it.
Plans for a mass-production facility were drawn up and handed off to the master craftsmen, while Dong-ja threw himself into designing the horseless carriage.
Ku-ku-ku-ku-ku-ku.
The engine roared along with real power, belching black smoke.
It had grown to roughly the length of a forearm, and with that growth, it looked impressively strong.
"Hmm..."
"What do you think we should do?"
Dong-ja had plenty of colleagues at his side now.
Marie was home bent double over five children, and just as much time had slipped by since the couple had come to Moda.
"I wish it could run without a cooler, but that's easier said than done."
"You're telling me."
His first creation — the machine Haneul had christened the motorcycle — now had its own dedicated department, with mass production just over the horizon.
And this horseless carriage was the project he had been pouring himself into for ten years.
Haneul kept telling him that what he'd already achieved was remarkable, that he was doing a great job — but this was his dream.
It was Marie's dream too.
"All right, let's think this through again. A way to shed heat fast..."
Dong-ja sat brooding in front of a fan, letting the breeze blow over him.
"Wind?"
"Hm? Well, we cool it with air, so I suppose wind is the answer?"
"No, wait! What if we blow air onto it, like a fan?"
"Ooh..."
For the first time in a long while, Dong-ja's mind began racing at full speed. Amid the flood of ideas racing through his head, another one surfaced.
"And we broaden the surface area! Let's mount spiky fins on the outside as a radiator!"
"Then we'd need a metal with high thermal conductivity, wouldn't we?"
"Exactly!"
"I'll look into it."
The engine had just a single flaw: it ran strong and rarely broke down, but it demanded a cooling system.
And since it couldn't shed even the smallest excess of heat, the shortcoming stung all the more.
In winter it was fine — but in summer it melted down, and Dong-ja's patience melted down with it, time and again.
"Come on! Let's move! I want to crack this before the year's out!"
"Yes, sir!"
That year would see motorcycle mass production begin; his eldest would turn ten; and it would mark a full decade since he'd started his research.
If he succeeded this year, he had a feeling everything would fall into place.
Swoosh, swish, swoosh.
"What if we stood metal plates up on edge over here, like fish scales?"
"Mm, good — then the fan goes on this side."
Seated in his office sketching blueprints, Dong-ja was surrounded by coworkers watching over his shoulder and adding ideas of their own.
This was why nations needed people to advance. One extra idea from someone standing nearby could prevent a problem before it ever happened.
Technological progress was always a battle against flaws — a race to get something reliable into people's hands as fast as possible.
It seemed the lights at the Daehan Automobile office would be burning late again tonight.
On the morning of November 11th, 4147, the doors of the Daehan Automobile development warehouse swung wide open.
Screeeeeeech.
"Push it outside first — we're starting out there!"
"Sheesh, can't we just do it in here?"
"You want us deaf?!"
Though the first chill breaths of winter were seeping from their mouths, not a single one of them — short sleeves and all — complained of the cold.
Six men threw their shoulders against a carriage and began pushing it out. Strangely enough, though it looked like an ordinary carriage, there were no horses.
Anyone who didn't know better might have wondered if they'd taken up carriage-pulling as morning exercise.
"Boss! Get on!"
"Just me?"
"No — you get on first, then the rest of us climb up. Hahaha."
"Oh! Right, of course!"
Daehan had plenty of companies, and each had its own figurehead called a "CEO," but the title was largely honorary.
It was not a seat for wielding authority or grinding anyone down. The understanding that everyone in the company was a coworker, working side by side, had held for hundreds — thousands — of years.
Tap.
Dong-ja settled into the driver's seat of the carriage. A control stick, an ignition button, and a gauge showing the battery reserve were all laid out before his eyes.
"HWAHAHA! Everyone hurry up and climb aboard — you're late and I'll crank her up and take off without you!"
"You will NOT! You have to wait for us!"
The crew scrambled up onto the carriage after him.
It was roomy enough that five of them fit comfortably in the cargo bed.
"Guess I'd better start her up first!"
Click.
The ignition button had a cover to keep water out; Dong-ja flipped it open and nudged the lever sideways.
Eeee-ing, chug — eeee-ing, chug.
As expected on a cold morning, it refused to catch on the first try.
Chug, kuh — put-put-put-put.
All that painstaking effort paid off, though; after a few more cranks, the engine shuddered to life.
Put. Put. Put.
With no muffler it was still deafening, but the heart of the horseless carriage began beating merrily all the same.
"BWHAHA! Starting her up is never going to be a problem!"
"Good grief, that thing's as loud as ever!"
"Quieter than you are, pal!"
Clank.
While the crew carried on noisily, Dong-ja pushed one of the two levers beside the control stick forward.
The carriage could drive both forward and in reverse — he had just slipped it into forward gear.
Click, sliiide.
The other lever was the clutch.
Rumble-rumble, rumble.
"Huh! It's moving!"
"Boss! You're supposed to give the word before you go!"
"We're off!"
As he eased off the clutch, the engine's power began flowing into the wheels, bit by bit.
With shock absorbers and even rubber tires, this was a rather premium model of carriage.
Rattle-rattle.
"Whew, she shakes more than I expected!"
"Without those shock absorbers, our necks would've snapped already!"
Bouncing along more than anticipated, the horseless carriage rolled out into early-morning Moda and began to run.
It wasn't anything like blisteringly fast — but it was a touch quicker than a man sprinting.
Putt-tat-tat-tat-tat.
"Haha, good grief, what a racket."
"We'll wake every late sleeper in the city, won't we? Bwahaha."
"Late sleepers, in Moda, City of Steel? Impossible. Nobody like that exists here. Khekheh."
The crew had already loosened up enough to joke around, while Dong-ja, driving them all along, kept his eyes glued to the dashboard.
Overcharging the battery wasn't good for it either.
"That ought to do it, right?"
Click.
Only then did he flip the ignition back off and turn his full attention to driving — and the crew's raucous laughter rang in his ears.
A pleasant smile spread across his face as the crisp morning air brushed past.
It felt exactly like that first ride on the motorcycle, back when he and his wife were young.
He'd just resolved to finish this thing and show it off to his wife and kids when—
Rumble — KA-BOOM.
"KUGH!"
"GUH!"
"WAAAGH!"
A block of wood lying on the road had gone unnoticed, and they'd run straight over it — at full speed, no less.
The suspension still wasn't perfect, and the carriage fell into utter chaos. People were launched knee-high into the air and sent tumbling.
"Sir, please drive a little more gently!"
"Ugh, this is killing me. Who in the world dropped firewood on the road?!"
For the record, the base was a three-quarter carriage. Five wheels touched the ground, but two of them were short — auxiliary wheels fitted to keep it from tipping sideways.
The problem was, those had no suspension at all.
KU-BOOM.
"KUH!"
"Gahk! Boss!"
"Help, somebody!"
This time it was a sunken pothole.
Crrreeek.
And then came a sound like wood splintering.
They'd bolted an engine onto a stock carriage, plain and simple — and now the carriage itself was giving out.
"Huh?"
"Wait — what's that weird sound?"
"Don't tell me—"
A nagging sense of dread swept the crew, and they were just starting to shout at Dong-ja to stop when—
KRA-KADOOM.
"GUH!"
"NOOO!"
The instant the wheel dropped into the pothole, everyone knew they were done for.
CRRACK — KU-DANG-TANG-TANG.
"WAAAGH!"
"Ugh!"
The carriage snapped clean in half, the front and rear breaking apart entirely.
Ku-ku-ku-ku.
"And the damn thing's STILL running."
"Incredible..."
"Aigoo, I'm dying here..."
Right beside the crew sprawled on the ground moaning in pain, the heart of the carriage went on beating strong and proud.
"How are we even supposed to take this home..."
"Someone go fetch another carriage."
"I hurt too much to move..."
"If we lie here long enough, someone's bound to come by."
Battered and aching all over from the impact, they simply stayed flat on their backs, staring up at the morning sky.
In short sleeves, in this weather — and apparently none of them felt cold at all.
"Ah-CHOO!"
"Sniff."
"Wow... it IS cold. Fine, I'll go get us a carriage. We can't stay like this."
"I'm coming with! I need another layer anyway."
Cold, it seemed, spared no one.
"Ha. Idiots."
"Tell me about it — we could've just huddled up right here."
Behind the men who'd gone off to retrieve a carriage, Dong-ja and a single coworker sat beside the still-smoking, snoring engine, soaking up its warm heat in contented silence.