At the end of a busy and incredibly exhausting week, she stood watching as the fires were lit beneath the boiler. It felt odd to know some of the wood in the fuel bunkers had come from abandoned buildings on the university grounds that were being slowly cannibalized, but if the buildings were coming down anyway from disrepair or old damage they might as well serve a useful purpose. The rest of the wood had been harvested from buildings outside the university and from small trees growing in the ruins of the city. There were wells on the grounds, so water wouldn’t be a problem.
Alain stood back, watching with what she could have sworn was a proud expression. Her pack of student leaders, the ones she had chosen as the work progressed because they showed the best aptitude, were gathered close around as she explained the operation of the boiler. “The most important rule is to never let the pressure get too high. If it gets too low, buildings will get a little cold. But if the pressure gets too high, the boiler will explode, people will die, and this plant won’t be working again no matter what you do.”
“You mean, it will look like out there?” one of the students asked, pointing toward the ruined city.
“Yeah. Pretty much. Trust me. I purposely over-pressured a boiler smaller than this and it blew apart a really large building.” The students watched her with wide eyes, but none asked why she had blown up a boiler. It was a bit disconcerting to realize that like Alain, these students just seemed to accept that Mari would sometimes blow up stuff.
Mari went over the safety rules again and again, thanking fate that her students could all read the Mechanic warning postings on the walls. The pressure built steadily, the relief valves started hissing at the right points in the process, and Mari took her students over to crank open the valves to feed steam to the still-occupied buildings where classes were held and everyone lived and worked. The steam hissed out and she waited for shouts of pain or alarm as major leaks announced themselves. But the checks of the pipes had done their job, and to her own surprise Mari heard nothing but whoops of excitement. There would be plenty of smaller leaks to patch, but this was a low-pressure system so that wouldn’t be hard. Wearisome, but not hard.
She spent the next few hours supervising the students, making sure they watched the boiler and the fuel and the water, adjusting the flow of steam as necessary. There was an art to anticipating when to increase or lower the fuel supply, but some of the students were picking it up quickly.
When Mari staggered away from the steam plant, it was well after midnight. Leaving the building that housed the boiler, she heard a prolonged cheer go up. Staring across the open area outside the building, she saw apparently every inhabitant of the university applauding her.
Turning to flee the adulation, Mari saw Alain standing there, openly smiling as much as she had ever seen. “Get me out of here,” she pleaded.
“As you wish, my Lady Mechanic.” Alain waved off the crowd of well-wishers, taking her back toward their room. “How do you feel?”
“Totally worn out. Totally marvelous. I did it! I made it work! I taught all those commons how to do it! They can! I was right, Alain! They can do that kind of work!” She hugged him fiercely with one arm as they walked. “I’m so happy and excited! And you suggested it! Alain, if we were promised right now you’d get a night you’d never forget.”
“You did not have to tell me what I will be missing this night,” he responded, the tiny smile flickering on again to take any sting from the words.
“Sorry, but I can give you this.” Ignoring the fact that they were still outside, Mari stopped, turned Alain to face her and kissed him passionately, again and again. Somewhere she continued to hear cheering and hoped it was still for the steam heat and not for the show she was putting on, but she didn’t really care. Alain didn’t seem worried about it, either.
The masters of the University of Marandur stood behind the same table they had occupied the night Mari and Alain had arrived. Alain watched them, trying not to look too tired; Mari had kept him up half the night describing over and over again what she had done to get heat into the buildings once more. Alain had understood practically nothing Mari had said but had listened and nodded at what he hoped were the right places. He must have succeeded, since every once in a while Mari would stop her explanations long enough to kiss him for a while before jumping into another rapid and incomprehensible recitation of Mechanic work.
Overall, it had been a very enjoyable night, given that both he and Mari had as usual remained clothed the whole time, and the masters of the university had been diplomatic enough not to comment on Mari and Alain’s obvious state of sleep deprivation.
“Lady Master Mechanic,” Professor Wren said. “We owe you more than we can say. The most serious threat to our existence has been the cold of winter, and you have given us a way to fight that.”
“It was my pleasure,” Mari replied.
Another professor spoke. “Professor Wren says that you did not request payment for this service.”
“That’s correct.” Mari looked down the rank of professors. “Make no mistake, I gained some important knowledge by what I did. But I also wanted to do something because it was right, not because it would profit me.”
The masters shifted in their seats, gazing at each other and murmuring in voices too low for Mari or Alain to hear.
Finally Professor Wren addressed Mari again. “You told us that you wished to change the world, and that you sought manuscripts from your Guild’s old headquarters. Is that truly why you seek these manuscripts?”
“It is.” Mari looked in the direction of the nearest window, then gestured toward the ruins of the city beyond the university’s walls. “Things must change. The world is headed for a fate like that of Marandur, only multiplied countless times. I need the technology in those manuscripts if I am to have any chance of altering that.”
Wren looked at Alain. “And you, Sir Mage, do you agree with this goal of Lady Mechanic Mari?”
Alain nodded. “I agree with her. It is my goal as well, to do what is right.”
A male professor leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table before him. “To do what is right? We have weighty responsibilities, Sir Mage. Not everyone agrees on what is right. How do we know this Mechanic’s words are true? How do we know that she does not serve other ends than she proclaims?”
“What other proof can we ask for?” Professor Wren said, looking at her companions. “We have seen what this woman did freely, without any compulsion, without knowledge of any reward we might give her.”
Yet another professor spoke, his tone challenging. “I will accept that, but still I must know this answer. Do you act against the emperor, Lady Mechanic?”
“No,” Mari replied.
“But you defied the emperor’s ban to come here.”
Mari fixed the man with a cold look. “There’s a new Imperial capital down the river from here. The city’s name is Palandur. If nothing is done, then someday, someday not too far in the future, maybe only a few years, Palandur will suffer the same fate as Marandur. Cities in Tiae have already fallen prey to chaos and lawlessness. Some day soon, that rot will reach the Empire, and Landfall will crumble, and Palandur, and Severun, and Umburan, and there will be nothing but barbarism like that outside your walls from one end of Dematr to the other. I want to prevent that.”
His voice impassive, Alain added one more sentence. “Is such a goal contrary to the welfare of the emperor and the Empire?”
“And what of your Guild, Lady Mechanic?” asked a female professor. “How do they feel about this goal?”
Mari met the woman’s gaze. “Many Mechanics know that something must be done.”