New Machinery

The Howlett Mechanical Experimental Factory, located in Brooklyn, New York, was a place that left many people in the industry curious and puzzled.

The factory had been established six or seven years ago. Its grounds and facilities were extravagantly equipped, yet it had never produced a single product.

The Howlett Family had a complete industrial supply chain in North America, with everything from raw minerals and smelting to casting, military machinery, and civilian equipment. Yet this was the best-equipped factory of them all, and no one had ever seen it build anything.

What was more, security had been strict ever since it was built. Whenever the master of the Howlett Family, Mr. James Howlett, was in North America, he spent most of his time here.

"So this means it's working—the 'reciprocating piston' you told me about?"

James raised his voice a little as he spoke to a white man with black hair and a prominent nose. Then he asked, "Can this run on gasoline? You know what gasoline is, right?"

"Mr. Howlett, I—I know, but the theory of combustion for that fuel has only just been verified. There isn't any machinery capable of using it yet." The man spoke slowly and haltingly, with a heavy accent that sounded German.

He seemed to notice James's disappointment, and hurriedly added, "B-but, sir, this machine is the first internal combustion engine to use a compound piston. It runs on coal gas now, produces 4.4 horsepower, and runs very smoothly. It has the highest power and thermal efficiency of any engine currently available!"

James's expression shifted slightly. He offered a few words of encouragement, and the German man, eager to show off how much his English had improved lately, continued, "I'm very grateful that you've provided me with such excellent conditions over these past two years. If you hadn't invested so much without expecting anything in return, it might have taken more than ten years to complete this machine."

"Mr. Otto, there's no need to be modest. This is entirely the result of your hard work, and that of all the engineers and technicians. But this machine can still be improved. Going forward, you should focus more on researching the use of gasoline in internal combustion engines."

Even while the factory was still under construction, James had sent many people to Europe to recruit mechanical engineers and scientists in Britain, Germany, France, and elsewhere.

With piles of cash and grand promises, he'd persuaded them to come to America. In truth, it hadn't been easy. Europe and the United States were at loggerheads over tariffs, and America was on the brink of civil war. Not many technical experts were willing to make the trip.

Most had come intending to take the money and see how things went before leaving. But when they arrived and saw the extensive facilities and the generous, relaxed working conditions, most decided to stay. Even the few who still wanted to return home never made it back. James had their families brought over, half by persuasion and half by cajoling, and in the end, they all remained in New York.

The German mechanical engineer, Otto, loved the experimental factory from the bottom of his heart. All they had to do was pursue research and test machines that were still theoretical or merely ideas, following their own interests. The factory provided them with the best equipment, materials, and labor.

Every so often, Mr. Howlett would give them a new direction to explore, such as combining pure silver with ammunition, or using new kinds of fuel.

Of course, James hoped that some of the technologies he remembered would be developed sooner rather than later. But when it came to such advanced technical matters, all he could do was find the right people and provide the funding.

Fortunately, the Howlett Family's businesses were now prosperous enough to indulge their head's whims and interests.

"Sir, Mr. Vernon would like to see you. He's been waiting outside for more than two hours." Tom Weddell had taken to addressing James the way the Howlett Family's own people did. He felt it better showed that he was one of the Howletts, rather than merely a minor partner.

"Hmm, Vernon? Oh, that Frenchman who helped us build the factory a few years ago. I can't quite remember his first name. What does he want?" James asked, puzzled.

Tom had long since moved beyond being the owner of a mechanical foundry in Canada. He was now the commercial manager for the Howlett Family, the most powerful industrial magnate in North America. The people he met and did business with were all prominent tycoons and politicians.

He took a silk handkerchief from his suit pocket and briskly brushed imaginary dust from James's clothes. "He probably wants us to let him take part in our projects in the South."

James nodded. Tom quickly gestured to the secretary beside them, who contacted the factory's security team and told them to let the visitor in. The factory's security staff were all people James had personally trained at the Howlett estate.

"Mr. Howlett! Mr. Howlett! Wonderful, I finally get to see you!" Herbert Vernon hurried forward with a speed that seemed impossible for a man of his build. James gave him a brief handshake and greeted him warmly enough.

"Mr. Vernon, what brings you here? I'm sorry I was busy inside and didn't know you'd arrived."

"No worries! No worries! I just happened to be passing by and saw your carriage. It's been years since we last met, but you haven't changed a bit." Vernon spoke with effusive pleasantries. James really hadn't changed much, though over the past two years he'd deliberately dressed to look more mature and grown a little facial hair. Otherwise, he could have passed for a young man in his early twenties.

James replied with a few polite words, then glanced at Tom. Weddell immediately picked up the conversation, understanding the hint, and indicated that Mr. Howlett had pressing business and needed to leave. At that, Vernon finally blurted out, "Well, you see, I heard you have a new construction project starting, so I was hoping—"

"You can discuss that with Tom. You've worked on quite a few of the Howlett Family's construction projects, and I trust you." James readily agreed. The underground structure at the estate had been built very well, and James had been quite satisfied with all the training and practice he'd done there over the years.

"No, no!"

Vernon waved his thick hands, looking a little nervous. "I'll make sure your project is built to the highest standard, and you won't have to pay a cent! I just wondered if you might let me take part in the Howlett Family's business—perhaps let me buy a few shares."

James finally understood. He gave Vernon an almost amused look and said apologetically, "Thank you for your faith in the Howlett Family, but this is a family business, and we have no plans to do that at present."

He said he had urgent business and headed toward the carriage. Tom, as a matter of course, stayed behind to keep Vernon occupied with idle chatter.

The carriage stopped outside a high-end dress shop on Queens Street. O'Hara was inside trying on a new dress. That evening, they were going to the White House to dine with President Lincoln and his wife.

The president still had a great deal he wanted to discuss with James. Their private time at the banquet that night had been far too brief.

Through the shop's floor-to-ceiling glass, James watched O'Hara trying on an ivory-white gown and smiled happily.