Chương 88: Chapter 2.25: Lead Investigator

The next day's martial and cultivation training ended early. After bathing, Brutus, his sisters, and Favius gathered in another room. At some point Favius had reluctantly given up pestering Brutus about his comment on catching a spy. Favius snorted as he observed the slaves bringing in the food. They were looking forlornly over the table and trying to arrange the snacks between stacks of papyrus and wax tablets.

"This," murmured Urania in a low voice.

"This is so much." Favius snorted.

"Ah, don't worry. We designed the forms, so the documents are all the same." But she has a point. He scratched his chin. On Earth, this would be a rather small data set. But then again, I have never actually analyzed a data set without a computer, so this will be a novel experience for me. He chuckled as Brutus dragged a table across the room, onto which the servants put the food. He gave the papyrus and tablets a nervous glance. Let's hope that I'm actually right about the chemistry being the same.

It would look really damn stupid if it turns out that what they call lead in this world is utterly harmless. Caliga instantly began raiding the snacks alongside Brutus while Urania settled onto a spot and grabbed a bunch of documents. She looked at Brutus.

"Those are the ones your Rhexion mine-owner friends sent us, right?"

"Indeed," murmured Brutus between two bites of chicken. She began mumbling as Favius grabbed a similar piece of paper from the same stack.

"Production of metal per cycle, number of miners, new acquisitions, losses, retirements, cave-ins, behavior..." She let out a long breath and looked over the table.

"Favius, are you sure we can do this? I feel that to understand all of this, we would at least need an insight of memory." Favius grinned.

"Come on, no defeatism this early. Those are a lot of figures. But..." He looked over at the others.

"We've talked a lot about plotting graphs. And a lot of data points can be depicted on a single piece of paper. Even though—" He gestured across the table and accepted an olive Caliga handed him.

"—this does look like a lot."

"Young Master, I hate to be the voice of pessimism," began Serran as he entered the room, "but this is, in fact, a lot." Favius made another dismissive gesture and looked at the man, who was accompanied by Metis, the weather-station scribe, and two others. At least he got us the same ones who helped design and copy the surveys, so everyone involved is familiar with the format. Caliga looked over at Brutus.

"This seems fascinating, but Uncle Brutus, how about we do some extra combat training?" Favius reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Remember, we made a deal with Marcus. I will teach you mathematics."

"This is not math," Caliga sniffed indignantly. Favius and Urania exchanged a look, and Favius threw his head back and cackled theatrically. He steepled his fingers.

"Caliga, Caliga. Those are numbers in application, and not just theory." Caliga swallowed and tried to take a step back, but Favius held firm to her wrist.

"This. This. I'm not feeling well," she ventured. But Brutus slapped her on the back.

"Now, now, girl. It is important to face the challenges in your way head-on." She grumbled but settled down just as the small talk died down. Another knock could be heard on the door before it opened. Antonius stuck his head through the door. Inclining his head, he spoke.

"Lords and Ladies." His eyes found Favius.

"If the Young Dominus permits, I would like to join you in today's endeavor." Favius scratched the side of his head before shrugging.

"As an observer or participant?" The scribes smiled broadly, and Antonius found Serran's eyes. The Majordomo nodded solemnly.

"I believe, in this particular affair, any additional hand would be very welcome."

"In that case, I will aid you." He smiled.

"After all, participation is the highest form of understanding." Brutus chuckled and stroked his beard.

"Indeed it is." Favius narrowed his eyes. Is he here to spy? No, that's a stupid question. He's Marcus's personal assistant. Of course he's here to report on what we are doing. Antonius had begun to walk across the room, yet Favius raised two fingers and looked at the man.

"Antonius, would you mind explaining why you are here? Did Father order you to come?" The side of Antonius's mouth twitched upward, and he shook his head.

"Indeed, Young Dominus. Your Father heard that you were engaging in another strange project that was rather opaque at first sight." He gestured to the wider world outside the room.

"Similarly opaque to your attempts at making paper or soap. So I was instructed to keep him apprised of anything that might alter the destiny of this Familia yet again." Favius leaned forward, letting his head fall onto his hands while everyone else, first his closest allies, then even the scribes, began to chuckle. Oh God. Gods. Favius groaned internally. And the scribes don't even really know what he's talking about. Favius shrugged and gestured to a chair close to him.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Okay, Antonius. You see..." Favius began explaining. For several hours, the work continued with quiet conversation. Everyone was armed with wax tablets and kept reading report after report. Favius nodded to himself at some point. Thank the Gods that I was so strict about ensuring uniform surveys. Otherwise, half this data would be useless. Even then. Caliga sniffed yet again.

"This is another one. He just wrote 'a lot' and 'maybe a few hundred dead.' What's so hard about following instructions?" Urania sniffed.

"Well, Sister, most people are rather stupid, as our Majordomo will have ample stories to prove." Serran sighed and shook his head, putting a sheet of papyrus to the side and marking the final tally on his wax tablet. Favius himself wasn't working with the surveys. Instead, he kept collating the results on a final wax tablet. Well, at least they are still in good spirits. Again, he closed his eyes, considered all the data, and let pneuma flow into his mental insight.

A few more simulations and then I'll know how to actually organize this. Without my insight, I'd have to guess at the best visualization. But this way... A nostalgic feeling spread through his chest. Almost like back in the day, working with Python, just playing around with graphs and diagrams. At lunch, servants brought a hearty beef soup. And Favius half-listened to the constant bitching about the quality of people's notations and how they could possibly have fucked up understanding the clear instructions.

But an hour after dinner, it was all said and done. Metis put the last papyrus sheet onto a side table, and everyone stared at Favius, who was sitting in a fortress of wax tablets. He clicked his tongue, his eyes half-lidded.

"Just give me a short moment. I'm almost..." He nodded at the visualizations his insight provided.

"Yes, that will do." He looked across the table, his eyes lingering on Urania, Brutus, and Serran.

"We already talked about fractions and percentages. We even calculated with them, but..." He raised a finger in response to the nods.

"I've not yet had a good occasion to speak about the art of working with data. It will be vital to our future pursuits." Caliga narrowed her eyebrows.

"I guess the first step of that art is actually getting the data."

"And getting people to make it consistent and legible," murmured Antonius beside Favius. Grim smiles were exchanged around the table, and Favius smirked.

"That's certainly true. Everything is information." He made an all-encompassing gesture and pointed at the wax tablets.

"But most information is disorganized. Only well-organized information can be used as data."

"That point is well taken, Young Master," said Serran.

"Yet how will we proceed with that data?" Favius smiled and gestured to the two walls. Still need to figure out a good solution for actual blackboards.

"Well, Majordomo, you'll be pleased to hear why I demanded that we use chalk to whiten this room's walls." Serran inclined his head.

"Young Master, I stopped attempting to comprehend the reasons for your more moderate requests about one and a half seasons ago." Brutus snorted, and his sisters joined in as Favius rolled his eyes.

"Very funny." He looked at Urania, who was leaning forward in her chair.

"There's a lot to the art of statistics. Ideas like understanding the strength of relationships or the chance that the patterns you see are mere quirks of fate instead of a real effect. But for now, we will simply draw the data and relate certain patterns."

"Metis," he said, looking at the taciturn scribe, who nodded in response, "if you would be so kind as to draw grids onto each of those walls. The difference between any and all lines should be that of a handspan." The scribe nodded, and he and his two fellows began drawing with charcoal. Favius raised his eyebrows. They are just straight-up making perfectly even lines. Even if it's just a chalk-white wall they are working on. Well, I guess scribe training isn't just for show.

Urania nodded and squinted at Favius's tablets.

"When we talked about this earlier, you mentioned it's important to compare similar things. And by how you stack the tablets..." She pointed at two particular stacks.

"I guess on one wall we are doing all the mines. And on another one, all the estates."

"Yes," Favius nodded.

"We will be using a weighted average of each estate's exposure to lead sugar, lead piping, and lead cookware. And perform a similar weighting for the mines." Brutus grabbed one of Favius's tablets and squinted at his numbers.

"And the other axis gets similar weightings with death, life expectancy, and so on."

"Boy, isn't this a rather coarse method by your standards?" Favius snorted.

"It is. But, well, we care about seeing the patterns. If we don't see a pattern based on reasonable assumptions, we might have to spend another day on this." His sisters groaned instantly, and Favius pressed his lips together as he saw the expressions on the faces of the adults.

"Two questions," interjected Antonius before quickly adding, "if the Young Dominus permits. How are you arriving at the weights for your averages and what to put into them and what not?" Favius grinned broadly.

"I'm guessing." He raised an eyebrow.

"Is the point of this exercise not to obtain certainty?" Urania shook her head and clicked her tongue.

"No, Antonius, there is no such thing as certainty. There is only ever higher and higher confidence. Even if you say you are fully convinced that something will happen, in reality, you should always think that there is a small chance that something unexpected happens. Like, you might be entirely convinced you know what duties Marcus expects of you tomorrow. But what if he just falls down the stairs tonight?" The personal assistant rubbed his chin.

"That is a rather nasty image. But indeed, Young Lady, I believe I see your point."

"And your second point," added Favius with a smile. It's great that they're asking questions. They are engaged, active. Quite different from the average undergrad classroom back on Earth. Or maybe it's just that they don't have phones here.

"For the assumptions," he said, "we will be using slightly different weights on the other wall." Urania narrowed her eyes.

"I guess you're playing with a range here. That wall gets your lowest plausible estimates for the estates, and then—" She pointed to the wall behind Favius.

"—that one gets your highest plausible weights for the estates." Favius shook his head.

"Not quite. I determined the range, and we are taking my twenty-five and seventy-five percent estimates. Between those." He shrugged.

"Well, there either is a clear pattern, or we need to repaint the walls and try something else." Caliga clapped her hands together.

"Well, let's do it." An hour of intense activity ensued as everyone plotted data point after data point using different patterns and colors. Soon, charcoal, various tones of ochre, grays, and greens began coloring the walls. At one point, Metis cleared his throat.

"My Lord, why are we using those fractions? Wouldn't the total numbers be more telling?" Favius narrowed his eyes.

"How do you figure that?" He's obviously wrong, but when teaching, it's more important to understand where your student's thinking has gone wrong than to tell them they said something dumb. Metis swallowed before continuing under everyone's gazes.

"Totals would be more impressive and maybe more..." He whirled his hands through the air.

"... convincing?" Before Favius could answer, Urania sniffed.

"But that way, the big mines and estates would dominate everything. Using fractions, each one is its own set of variables. No?" She shook her head.

"We're looking for the effects of specific variables. Therefore, it doesn't matter how many people are affected. It matters which fraction of the group shows the signs we are looking for." As evening approached, the walls had turned from white into a black, many-colored grid. The results had been obvious for some time, but after finishing his last line, Favius swallowed and stepped to the center of the room, picking up his cup of thinned wine. He took a sip while slowly turning around.

"Well," he drawled. Serran's voice was oddly hollow.

"Unless I'm mistaken, Young Lord, that is what you refer to as a strong correlation."

"It is indeed." Caliga leaned forward.

"Honestly—" She pointed at a dotted ochre line.

"—the salt mines are still the worst overall, but for the lead mines..." She ran her fingers over the wall, coming to a black dashed-and-dotted line and a continuous red line.

"The copper mine with the worst conditions is barely worse than our best lead mine."

"And," Urania continued, "given that we are using a weighted average here, that means certain mines must be much worse in some aspects." She looked around.

"Especially the one describing madness and violence." Favius pressed his eyes shut and used his insight to represent the entire pattern. Indeed, those lines. He shuddered and swallowed, seeing the visualization. Well, even controlling for harsh labor and conditions... Not sure if I should be happy or horrified that the results are so clear. Serran stared in silence, slowly turning from wall to wall, almost like the hand of a broken clock.

His expression grew ever darker and stormier until Antonius stepped up to him.

"Serran?" he murmured. The middle-aged man swallowed and took a slow, shuddering breath.

"May the Gods forgive me," he murmured before looking at Favius with a burning intensity in his eyes. He bowed deeply at the hip, and an unpleasant weight settled onto Favius's stomach. What is happening here?