Since Arcus was not yet to be revealed as its inventor, he was attending the party as his uncle Craib’s “attendant.” Having been told that his introduction would be a much larger affair, accompanied by a parade and the creation of a memorial day, Arcus was filled with trepidation for the future.
Shortly after the start of the glamorous event, it was time for the aethometer to be officially unveiled. Craib, who had helped to develop the invention and had invested heavily in it, would be giving the presentation. It was a little jarring to see a rugged, muscular mage giving such a technical explanation, but that was beside the point.
Several sample aethometers had been placed in the hall’s center. That was where the guests were gathered, taking the devices in hand and scrutinizing them. Each seemed to have a different method of trying to identify their inner workings. Some studied them like a bottle of fine wine, holding them up to the light. Others simply stared intently enough that it was a wonder they didn’t burn holes in them.
“Now this is rather something.”
“I would never have thought such an invention possible.”
“Only Lainur, with its technical prowess, could have come up with something like this.”
Every last guest sang the invention’s praises, lauding it as revolutionary, and by the same token, marveling at what the future would hold once the kingdom’s magical mastery developed even further. It was difficult to discern the emotions behind those voices. They could just have easily been admiration as surprise or fear. Whichever it was, the emotional impact on the guests was undeniable. Amidst their flattery, a number of them were pressing their magic attendants to probe the device’s workings.
The aethometer’s construction was really very simple. With enough skill in engineering glass and industrial workmanship, replicating its appearance would be far from difficult. The complications came in reproducing its contents. The tempered silver central to the aethometer’s workings required the creation of tempered aether. It was the knowledge of such aether that was key to the device’s production. Someone would have to read and decipher the same book that Arcus himself had come across. Then, they would need to spend several patient hours putting the book’s instructions into practice. The resulting tempered aether would then need to be applied to Sorcerer’s Silver in order to alter the metal’s properties. In short, replicating the liquid of an aethometer required a long string of unlikely coincidences. Furthermore, the tempered silver inside the glass had been colored red with cinnabar, so simply looking at it would give no clue as to its identity.
Even if someone was able to recreate the silver, it would take a colossal amount of time to work out how to make practical use of it. And then there was the matter of ensuring that the device you had produced was as accurate as the genuine article, in the same way that a watch was useless if you couldn’t adjust its time. Any measuring device required that its base standards were both perfectly tuned and well known among its users. Every owner of an aethometer used it as though it were the simplest thing in the world, but Arcus had gone through an arduous process of fine-tuning its specifications before releasing it. In fact, he personally felt that the knowledge behind the aethometer was more valuable than the thing itself in this regard. But even if a rival nation were to try and make the devices on their own, they would be looking at years before they’d be able to perfect the creation’s delicacies, such as the tempered silver’s rate of expansion. There was a reason there was so much paperwork involved in engineering the aethometer.
Despite Arcus’s impressive memory and the spell he had developed to copy paper, it had still taken close to five years to perfect his invention. He had worked hard to speed up the process as much as possible, and he was confident that he had contributed to a paradigm shift in magic technology. It was not something to be easily replicated, and he would not stand for someone pulling off the same feat without as much grueling effort as he himself had put in. And of course, concerns about other countries trying to copy the technology had been discussed anew prior to the party’s opening.
“Yes, I can see that it would be no mean feat to replicate it.” The remark came from Ceylan.
The prince, his father Shinlu, and the state magicians had gathered for a presentation. The magicians said nothing, seeming to agree with him, and were either focused on the aethometer itself or flicking through the documentation in front of them.
As before, Arcus was the speaker, armed with a paper in one hand. Once he was finished, the room fell into a silence that was eventually broken by Godwald, the Guildmaster.
“Had you expected this level of success, Arcus?”
“I wouldn’t say that. My aim was to optimize it as best I could. That my optimization has proven itself is an added bonus. I would attribute it more to my uncle’s bountiful advice and the enthusiasm shown by various magicians for its implementation.”
Arcus couldn’t imagine having come this far without the eager support of influential and specialist magic users. There was always going to be a strong pushback against any new technology introduced to society. The aethometer would not have found success as quickly as it had if the kingdom’s magicians fancied themselves craftsmen who judged everything superficially. Those types inevitably lacked insight when it came to new technologies. But the state magicians held sufficient influence to silence such people. Else the aethometer would have encountered many more hurdles than it had since its initial, limited announcement.
“I realize this has already been addressed,” Godwald went on, “but are you certain that there is no risk of the technology being replicated?”
“Yes, sir. Suppose another nation set out to make one of its own. They would have to contend with the tempered silver’s manufacture, the design of the specialized glass container, the establishment of a vacuum as a concept, and the homogenization of the silver’s rate of expansion. That is before you consider the standardization of the device’s units, and the need to equip its users with knowledge of said standard. You can see just how much information that requires in these.” Arcus gestured to the documentation. Reports as thick as dictionaries from the man’s world lay in two piles. These were the documents pertaining to the research that went into the aethometer. One look at the stack left an indelible impression of the apocalyptic thump they would make with even a short drop.