"Know, oh most wise and honored host, that this is but a small version of that which might be." Pray it so, or ten desperate people might soon be out in the street again. "As you see this little globe rests, like a wheel, upon an axle whereby it might spin." And hope the water boils soon! "Within it lies a small quantity of water, easily replaced."
But how would one replace the water at a steady rate in order to keep the globe spinning? Design problem: deal with it later.
"The fire heats the water, making it boil unto vapor." Boil soon, dammit! "This vapor, being closer to that divine state of the spirit than is mere fluid or gross earthly matter, seeks to rise toward heaven."
Seeks to expand, actually, and spirit has nothing to do with it, but this is not time to argue with common misconceptions.
"Yet it must escape this imprisoning globe, and what escape may it find save through these three identically curved little pipes?" Nudge one of them, encourage the fool toy to spin. "Thus, escape it does, so fiercely seeking its freedom that in leaping outward toward the free air it doth thrust backward against the door of its former prison."
There, is that a faint wisp of escaping steam? Please? "Even as a sailor, stepping from a small boat to the dock, doth thrust the boat away from him with his lattermost foot . . ."
Yes! Steam at last!
"So this backward thrust presses the pipes away from the direction of the escaping steam, er, vapor . . ." Move, dammit! "And as the pipes are firmly affixed to the globe, which in turn rests upon its axle, the globe hath no choice save to . . ."
There it goes!
" . . . spin."
Sure enough, the little globe spun: slowly at first, then faster, whirling merrily in its soft halo of escaping steam.
Entori peered closer, fascinated, his dark eyes very wide and round. Quick now, before the water ran out or the man's normal suspicion reasserted itself.
"Consider, milord, a much larger globe spinning thus. Picture it standing upon the deck of a ship. Picture the axle extended over the sides of the vessel, and wheels attached. Picture the wheels rimmed with oars reaching into the water. Consider, oh most wise and far-seeing, how fast and steadily such a ship could go—regardless of the vagaries of winds or fatigue of rowers."
Now hit the conclusion good and hard.
"A ship driven by such an engine would be mistress of the seas, fearing no storm nor dead winds, nor pirates.
"How wealthy would her master be?"
Entori nodded slowly, a smile spreading widely across his face, as the vision took hold. "Tell me," he murmured, "did Shibari commission the building of such a ship?"
"No, milord. He considered it too newfangled and undignified." Well, that was half the truth anyway. "Also, he would not spare the time required to build it, preferring to gamble on quick profits with existing ships." That, too, was part of the truth.
"Shibari was a fool." Entori sat back, folded his hands, and turned his attention back to Zeren. "I agree, Captain, that there are possibilities here. Yes, I'll take in these craftsmen of yours. When we have ships of the sort that will interest the officers of the Imperial Navy, I will certainly inform you."
Zeren gave him a smile and a slight bow. "I have no doubt that there will be other such profitable developments," he purred. "I'll send the craftsmen and their assistants to you before the day is out."
"I'll have rooms prepared," Entori murmured, reaching for a stylus and tablet. "Good day, Captain."
Omis and Sulun suppressed sighs of relief as they turned and followed Zeren out the door. Only when they were out in the corridor did Omis dare to speak.
"We're out of the cookpot, but maybe into the fire. Sulun, it will take months to build a big steam engine, much less mount it on a ship, test it, get it seaworthy. And there are certain design problems. And when will we have time to work on the bombard?"
"We'll manage," Sulun promised. "At least now we'll have the tools, and a roof over our heads."
"I wish," Zeren muttered, "that you'd had a model of the bombard instead. Sabis needs land defense more than fast ships."
The little company arrived, bags and baggage, children and all, shortly after noon. The porter let them in at once, led them down a different set of gloomy corridors and into their new quarters chattering all the way, quite garrulous now that there were none but other Entori house servants to overhear.
"Well, well, well, so you're the new craftsmen of the house! All of you, then? Hah, I didn't think so. Can't quite see the babies hammering iron, eh?"
"Give them time," Omis huffed.
"Oh, yes indeed, yes indeed. Meanwhile, best keep them out of the master's sight, or else put 'em to sweeping floors or some such harmless work, keep 'em looking busy. Master doesn't like to pay for useless mouths. Clever idea, though, claiming four apprentices instead of a wife and three children; he set aside full three rooms for your lot, and as much for goodman Sulun and his. How d'ye like the furnishings, eh?"
Omis and Vari surveyed the first of the three cubicles, and bit their respective tongues.
"Not much cabinet space," Vari dared to comment.
"Eh, well, you can always get more cabinets out of your pay. Don't go borrowing bits of furniture from storage without the mistress's express permission now, tempting as it looks. Always remember Master Entori may run the business, but Mistress Eloti runs the household. 'Tis a fine point in your favor that she likes you."
"Likes us?" Sulun put in. "I didn't know she'd even seen us."
"Oh, she did. She has her ways. Heh-heh! Yes. Master wanted to hire you, right enough, but the expense worried him, so he talked to Mistress about it. When he stopped for breath she put in a word. 'Hire them,' she said. 'Good investment,' she said. Then he went back to talking and rattled on for another good half-hour, and finally concluded by saying he'd go ahead and hire you all. Then it was a question of what to pay you."
"Really?" Sulun said. He hadn't dared bring that up himself; it wasn't seemly for an unemployed craftsman to bargain with a master who was graciously consenting to save him from begging on the street. Zeren hadn't dared to bring up the subject either; it would have seemed out of character, considering his argument for Entori hiring the lot of them in the first place. "And what did they decide?"
"At first Master rattled on and on about the expense of feeding ten new mouths, plus added costs of lamp oil and laundry soap and all like that, and said you should be grateful enough for that and allowance for materials—"
Behind them, Arizun snorted, loudly.
"But then Mistress pointed out that unpaid hirelings tend to steal, and unpaid craftsmen tend to pad their budgets for materials, and that better paid servants tend to keep their mouths shut about their master's business. Master thought about that for a bit, and suggested that two silver pieces a month should buy proper secrecy—"
This time it was Doshi who did the derisive snorting.
"But Mistress pointed out that there's many who would pay far better to keep so valuable a secret as that steam powered ship engine, and she argued for a full gold piece per month. Master ranted and raved a bit, then thought it over, and finally agreed on one gold for each master and eight silvers for each apprentice, which isn't too shabby, especially for so . . . ah . . . economical a household as this one."