Chương 154: Cordyceps Nineteen

The first class the next morning was maths, a class that I was curious about, but also mostly ambivalent for. Learning how to do maths better wasn't going to save me, I didn't think, so there was only so much interest I could give to the class. And in any case, I figured I was leagues ahead of the other students in my grade. On arriving in the room, we all found a worksheet turned upside down on the tables with a name written on the back.

I found mine and sat behind it, then listened as the teacher explained that he first needed to assess where we were. We grabbed a pen, turned the sheets over a moment after the bell rang, then got to work. The first dozen questions were about simple single-digit addition and subtraction, then some basic multiplication and division. I barely read the questions before answering. I didn't need to think to know that nine divided into thirds was three.

As I moved further along on the page, the questions grew more complex. Double-digits, then triple, then larger multiplications and divisions that required that I actually think and break things down. The second page of the worksheet introduced statistics questions next to very basic 'find X' algebra. The third page dipped into geometry, and the fourth page started to combine all of the above.

I was still halfway through and dreading the fifth when the professor called an end to it all and fetched the papers from us. Then he started an hour-long lecture on the importance of maths in a modern, civilised society. I think the only reason I didn't fall asleep was because he must have had a skill to keep our attention rooted in place. Apparently the next class would be divided into thirds, splitting students up based on their results on the worksheets. That was...

actually an interesting way of doing things, and logical as well. Some of the students here had clearly only had a very, very basic education before arriving at the academy, and they'd need help working through the basics. Others, like myself, would be held back if we spent the first couple of months learning how to subtract four from five. The next class we had was geography once more, and unlike the first class which at least kept up a decent level of energy throughout, this one was more about book work.

I read a long text about some neighbouring nation then had to fill out a sheet with long form questions. It was, obviously, chock full of propaganda and felt like a complete waste of time, but I was probably still picking up a few factoids as I went. It would be good to have a baseline--even a very biased one--for what places beyond City Nineteen were like if I ever decided to leave. Or if I ever had to go on the run.

Lunch came and went, and I used the bit of spare time I had to gather up some leftovers and bring them back to my dorm room. Sir Nibbles was mostly appeased by the offering, but I promised him that I'd find time to get him out of the room. He, of course, reminded me that I'd need to let him out sooner or later by leaving me a steaming gift right by the doorway. Little bastard knew exactly what he was doing too, and seemed to enjoy watching me clean up after him.

After lunch, I had two elective classes to look forward to. Introduction to Clockwork and Gears, then Music. It would be an opportunity to meet two of my targets, the first of which was Silas Lockhart. Silas was a Troll a year ahead of me, but the Introduction class was split into thirds, and the first of those included year one and two students together. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I was one of three Dragons heading to the class in my year.

Myself, Cedric Fairweather, and Andrew from my botany class. There were two older students as well, but they seemed resistant to any attempts to try and befriend them. It seemed like the Academy's method of segregating different grades from each other meant that there was a certain level of... well, it wasn't animosity, exactly, but certainly a level of ambivalence between students even one grade apart. I was hoping that wouldn't make things with Silas more complicated.

The Lockhart family were responsible for a lot of inventions that had been implemented throughout City Nineteen. My brief didn't explicitly say why the Union wanted the head of the family dead, but it did highlight some of their accomplishments. They were new rich, like most of the Troll families. Silas' grandfather had invented a new handloom which his son had improved upon. Then they used their wealth to invent other machines.

Sewing machines powered by simple hand-cranks, then goblin-powered mills that could run simple engines that allowed for the use of all sorts of automation. Nearly every factory in the city had at least one machine invented or created by the Lockhart family, and that prestige and wealth meant that they were going to stay well-off for a long time.

The class was on the top floor of the main academy building, not too far from the main entrance, actually, and immediately, I could tell that I was going to be out of my depth with this one. The room had several small machines. Steam engines, I suspected. The walls were covered in diagrams and blueprints, and there were dozens of wooden cubicles against the walls, filled with small boxes of brass and copper parts.

The end of the classroom was an entire workshop and what looked like a small indoor forge for working brass and copper. Most unbearable of all, however, was the ticking. One wall was covered in clocks. Small, delicate ones, and larger clocks with hanging pendulums. They were all clicking slightly off-beat from each other, and I suspected that it would drive me mad if nothing distracted me from the noise.

"Alright, firsties," an older student said. He looked immensely bored as he pulled out a stack of small manuals and dropped them onto a desk.

"Take one each." I grabbed one of the manuals and flipped it open. It was one part instructions on how to build little machines, and one part an explanation on how those machines worked.

"Firsties, you can pick any machine that's labelled for firsties. Second year students, you know the drill already. If you have any questions, can't reach one of the boxes, or need something special, ask me. But you shouldn't need any of that, because all the firstie stuff is in the first few drawers." He gestured to the wall with all the cubbies. Fortunately, Fairweather raised his hand before I could, so he got the older student's ire.

"Um, what are we doing, exactly?"

"Pick a project from the book. Find the stuff you need for it, and only that stuff. Then make it. Don't mess up. Don't drop things. And for the love of all that's holy, don't make a mess." The older student stomped off to the far end of the room without anything more to add. I looked around, then flipped the manual open again. Some projects were clearly labelled with a ONE in the top corner, so those were for us. Those were relatively simple.

A small arm with a scoop on the end, a fan powered by a rubber band, a small toy-car like thing also powered by rubber bands. These were basically little kids projects, but all made of brass and copper parts and held together by small watch-screws and bolts. It would almost be like playing, but I bet that it would also be enough to unlock some important skills for someone trying to learn how to build more complex engineering-based stuff. Which meant that as I failed to get those skills, I'd be quick to fall behind.

Joy. I looked over to the second year students and noticed them studying the manual but deeper in, so I turned to those deeper pages and was actually impressed. Small mechanical animals with motions powered by spring screws, very basic music boxes, gravity-fed clocks, even detailed instructions on how to build a very basic typewriter. And that was just in the second year. Did further years branch out towards making their own inventions and making the parts themselves?

That seemed to be what the rest of the workshop was for. I turned back to the start and looked at the very first and probably simplest project in the book. A small, single-action rubber-band gun. The manual at least had a full page explanation of the physics behind it. I mostly just wanted to see if I could hit someone from across the room with it.

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