- 16 - Agnus Cliversham
“Harriet?” Agnus looked up from his notes.
“Yes Agnus.” She replied putting down her romance novel.
It’s a new novel now. One about a buff blond man and a woman with a saber.
“I have read all of these books, taken extensive notes, and read the notes. Can we get some more?”
“All of them?” She exclaimed. She looked at the neat pile of books. “I thought those were the materials your tutors had selected for the next month?”
I highly doubt it. This was the primer material.
“There must be library.”
“Oh yes! I did see it. They have a lovely section of…literature.” She said and tucked her book into a pocket. “I’ll take you.”
Agnus eased himself into the wheelchair and Harriett wheeled him out into the hallway.
Agnus could feel the eyes of Barons past as they rolled past each portrait.
There really is an uncanny resemblance.
-
“This is amazing.” Agnus said.
He stared in awe at the vastness of the library.
My room would fit in here 10,000 times!
“Harriet! This is not common in other homes, correct?”
“No Agnus it’s not. It is an amazing collection of books from all over the world.” She said in a hushed tone.
She wheeled him over to the closest bookcase.
“These books are about New Amsterdam, I suspect you would like to start here?” Harriet asked.
The shelves are double sided, 12 feet tall, 9 feet wide, and hold over 850 books on each side.
Agnus reached for the first book on the shelf. It was a brief history of the east coast industrial cities. He flew through it and then the next one. He worked his way down the row until he came to the last one on the end.
New Amsterdam was founded over a hundred years ago. It was a major trading town to the European continent. Then the war against the Dwarves started. The city grew rapidly to keep up with the demands of their Army. There are industrial sectors for weapons, textiles, food preservation, and vehicles and countless others. They grew to capacity and then Baron Von Bachman the Second, Great Uncle’s father, built the first thinking machines.
His family started a literal industrial revolution.
Factories became more efficient. Material sciences and logistics improved. Battle strategies and tactics changed. And society itself changed around an industrial capitalistic mentality. That lasted a hundred years until the war ended.
Amazing. I can recall it all. Yet there is not anything here from the last 10 years. Which sections cover current events?
Agnus stood, wobbling on his feet, as he put back the book.
I am not fully healed. I barely cleared 80%. I should stand as I read the next row.
Agnus reached out to steady himself with his wheelchair. He grabbed the next book on the shelf above but a slim bound book caught his eye. It had been slipped in between to two books on the end.
Strange, this book is so different from the others.
He leafed through the first few pages looking for a title page only to discover it was a black leather bound journal.
What is someone’s journal doing here?
“Hello young master.” A voice whispered. “If you want books from the next shelf I can bring them down for you.”
Agnus turned quickly and looked up at a young man dressed in heavy robes.
Is he a monk?
“Sorry if I started you. I would wear a bell but it would disturb my sensibilities.” The man said with a smile, when his joke didn’t land he apologized. “Sorry it’s a librarian joke, you see.”
“Oh, you are the librarian?” Agnus said. “Nice to meet you.”
He went to put the journal back on the shelf, but the librarian gently plucked it from his hand.
“Here let me. Our system is a little unorthodox.”
“Thank you. Although I have not been in a library before, how is this one different?” Agnus asked.
The librarian lit up and turned to grab a few other books from the second shelf.
“Well you see, a normal library follows a base ten decimal system.” He said.
Looking at the two books Agnus could see their codes were 190.9.11 and 190.9.12.
“How does that work?” Agnus asked.
“You can think of it like counting from 0-9 as the base ten decimal system, and counting from 0-11 is a base twelve.”
“Isn’t that more confusing?” Agnus asked. He looked at his hands and counted ten fingers.
“You might think that. But base 12 is actually very convenient. And most of the analysts who come to reference subjects from this archive already know base their 12 arithmetic from their work with the thinking machines.”
“You can divide twelve into half’s, and thirds, and quarters much easier, and there are not any repeating decimals so the calculations are easier for the thinking machines to run.” The librarian said excitedly. “And it’s easier for humans to count if you imagine an extra pinky on each hand.”
Huh what an interesting idea. 1/3 of ten is .33333 repeating forever. And 1/3 of twelve is simply 4.
Agnus looked at his fingers then, imagining an extra pinky. The phantom pain of a sixth finger throbbed in his mind.
That’s impossible. Humans do not have 12 fingers.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to count the three digits on each finger with your thumb?” Agnus suggested.
“What?” The librarian said then looked at his own hand. He counted out the three knuckles on each finer with his thumb.”…nine, ten, eleven, twelve! By god that is simpler!”
“Master Agnus, are you causing a commotion in the library?” Mr. Henley asked sternly.
“Oh! Mr. Henley! You startled me. The boy was just showing me this delightful new-“
“Master Agnus is expected to meet with the Baron shortly. I’ve come to fetch him. And where is Harriet?” The Porter huffed and turned abruptly to walk briskly away.
As the porter went to go find Harriett, the librarian put the books back on the shelf. He was startled by the slim journal.
“Oh! Now how did this book get out here?”
“It was on the shelf here.” Agnus said. “Is it in the wrong place?”
“It certainly is. This is a restricted journal. It belongs in the archive.” The librarian said pointing to an area of the library enclosed in metal bars.
“Why is it restricted?” Agnus asked.
“Because you must have the Baron’s approval to read it.” Said the Porter as he returned with sullen Harriet. “Now, it is high time we leave. You are expected by the Baron.”
-
The Baron leaned on his cane at one of several work tables in the shop. He glared at the idle gears, levers, and rotors.
“Agnus Cliversham, to meet with you my Baron.” Mr. Henley said.
“Ah yes, Agnus come this way. We are working to put together our next thinking machine. The governor’s office has finally come around and seen the weight of our results.” The baron said. “They have put in an order.”
“Congratulations, Great Uncle, that’s great news.” Agnus said.
Agnus was looking past the old man to a drafting table with schematics and a black leather bound journal sitting open amongst the pens and tools.
“How are you feeling my boy?” The Baron asked.
“Nearly completely healed up. I suspect another meal and a good night’s sleep is all it will take to see me back to 100 percent.” Agnus said.
The Baron nodded to himself and smiled.
“Harriett, you may go.” The Baron said before turning to Agnus. “Do you have a basic understanding of how these punchcard machines work?”
“I’m sorry Uncle I do not.”
“You see those rotors?” the Baron pointed at a stack of twelve interlocking discs. “Each one corresponds to a digit in the base-twelve system. They rotate to perform calculations—add, subtract, even multiply. When the card’s data tells the machine what to do, these gears spin to the correct positions, passing information along the line.”
Agnus nodded and mentally stored away the information.
“The analysts feed punchcards into the machine like this.” The Baron said shuffling over to another work bench where a punchcard reading assembly was set up. He reached over and picked up a punchcard to show Agnus.
“See here. Twelve columns, one for each digit. And each column has twelve rows, marked zero through eleven. Or, as we say, ‘zero through theta.’”
144 possible punch holes. And they are labeled 0-10 and B, for theta?
Baron Von Bachman pointed with his cane at everything around them.
“And all this feeds the data values to the terminal core, which chronicles and organizes the data.”
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“Where is the terminal core?” Agnus asked.
“We haven’t made it yet Agnus!” The baron chuckled. “It’s the most important part and is exceedingly complicated.”
Agnus scanned the schematics on the table and saw instructions for every component in the room. The terminal core was simply a black box into which several components plugged in.
“How’s the terminal core built?” Agnus asked. “It is not there in the schematics.”
“Oh you will find out soon.” The baron said warmly. “You aren’t quite ready yet, and it is quite the process.”
“Baron, Von Bachman.” The porter entered and gave a respectful bow. “A message just came from some of our Analysts.”
“Yes Henley, what is the message?” The Baron asked impatiently after being interrupted.
The porter looked at Agnus and seemed to ask with a raised eyebrow if he could speak infront of the boy.
The Baron gave an impatient twirl of his hand to rush the man along.
“Mary Ruth has been asking lots of non standard questions again. She may come inquire for ways to fix the machine.” The Porter said.
“The machine has broken?” Agnus asked suddenly. “Are we going to go fix it? Could I come along?”
“It’s not broken. The silly girl is trying to circumvent the machine’s core programming.” The Baron grumbled.
“Our report shows Ms Cramer intends to branch out into a new industry.” Henley said.
Agnus cataloged the name away as someone to ask Harriet about later.
No sign of the terminal core schematics. If I could see them repair a machine I am certain I could memorize it.
He sorted the schematics on the drafting table quietly while the Baron spoke with his man.
“That girl, she’s too smart for her own good sometimes.” The Baron grouched. “What is her new enterprise, and why has it got you so worked up Henley?”
“Well sir, she intends to build residential superstructures. Subterranean self-contained ecosystems for hundreds of people.” The Porter said. “She intends to dig down into the very bedrock of New Amsterdam.”
“Blast, we must speak with the board of directors at Caliber immediately.” The baron cried.
“May I come along? Seeing how the board operates would be insightful. And any insight into how the technicians operate a functional machine would be appreciated.” Agnus asked.
“Not today, my boy. You are still not able to walk around just yet. Go visit the library and read as much as you can.”
“Thank you Great Uncle. When I stopped by earlier the librarian offered to help me access some books out of my reach. Could I have your permission to read all of them?”
“Certainly. Read what ever you can get your hands on.” The Baron said impatiently. “Now Mr. Henley. Bring around my car.”
Harriet entered after the baron left to wheel him out.
“I believe I’ll walk Harriett, we are heading back to the library.”
-
“Hello again.” Agnus said as he walked up to the librarian at their desk.
“I spoke with the Baron and he agreed I could read the materials in the archives.” Agnus said.
Will he believe me? Is there some key or password?
“Fantastic.” The librarian said closing the book he was reading. “The best books are back there.”
That was easy.
Agnus followed the librarian to the archives leaving dumbfounded Harriet with an empty wheelchair.
“Congratulations by the way, on your recovery.” The librarian said. “You are making lots of first steps today. There is true knowledge within the archives. And it’s your first step to unraveling the mysteries of the world.”
The reached the steel gate and the librarian opened it with a key he wore around his neck.
“Thank you, I could not be more excited.” Agnus said. “I’ve just got an introduction to the mechanisms within the thinking machines. I’d like a chance to see some of the context cards. And some example queries the machine can handle.“
The librarian led him to an area packed full of punch cards.
“These are contextual data cards.” He said and swept in the view with his arm. “These are the new arrivals, if you could make notations on their content that would save me hours of work.”
He gets paid to read these?
“It may seem daunting, but you pick it up quickly.” The librarian said. The man handed him a small paper booklet. It was titled: Base 12 annotations for thinking machines.
“Study that and you should be alright.” He said.
“Thank you.” Agnus said.
-
It took a minute for Agnus to learn the annotation method for the punchcards. He started reading and making notations on each punchcard’s content.
He expanded his knowledge on a variety of subjects, and learned much about the economic state of the city and its citizens over the last 10 years.
Harriett was holding back, things are really dire out there for most people.
No work and no food. Whole families going to bed hungry.
An angry voice resounded through the stacks of books.
“How can you lose him twice in one day?” Demanded Mr. Henley.
“I’m sorry sir. The librarian took him to the archives and I could not follow them.”
The librarian spoke up then.
“He has the appropriate clearance. I have him reviewing punchcards and making annotations.” He said.
“At least you have some sense to put him to proper work.”
Agnus cleared up the space he had been working at. He had notes for 243 context punchcards.
I hope I was able to leave enough notes. It sounds like the librarian is in some trouble over me.
Agnus hurried to meet the group at the gate to the archives.
“There you are Master Agnus.” Mr Henley, the porter said with a sigh.
Harriet was pushing the wheelchair ahead of herself, right on the librarian’s heels. There was a surprising face among them. The same new tutor from this morning.
Agnus gave a respectful bow to the man before speaking.
“Hello Sir, thank you for taking the position of my tutor.” Agnus said. “I look forward to learning everything I can from you.”
“Thank you, we were not formally introduced, my name is Tucker Fitzroy. I specialize in mathematics, and will take over your other studies as well.”
Tucker looked past Agnus to the pile of annotations and the organized pallet of punchcards.
“It seems like so will have much to cover quickly.” He said.
-
“I do not like him.” Agnus said over dinner. He had studied the afternoon with Tucker and they had started with current events at Agnus’s request.
The man was understandably anxious on his first day. Apparently he had been called in abruptly to start this afternoon in the baron’s absence and had not had sufficient time to prepare.
The first three times Agnus had suggested a factual error in his presentation they had looked them up. Agnus had been correct all three times.
Since then Tucker had been in a foul mood and Agnus thought he better keep his corrections to himself.
The mood was ruined after that and the rest of the afternoon was strained until he returned to his room and Harriett had a meal and more of his vitamins for him.
Harriet traded her half full plate for Agnus’s clean one and the boy dug in.
“And once he realized his mistakes he got very flustered.” Agnus continued between bites. “I had stopped pointing them out by that point but he somehow must have known I was catching them.”
Tucker had gotten particularly hot under the collar and rolled up his sleeves to cool off by the end of the lecture.
“He had an unusual tattoo on his arm too. A Tower or the shadow of one, perhaps? Either way it was a strange shape to get. Not ornamental in the least.” Agnus said.
“Are you certain?” Harriett asked. “Or, I only ask because it is not uncommon for criminals to wear tattoos. I myself was asked if I had any when I interviewed for this job.”
How strange. I should report this to Mr. Henley.
Agnus finished clearing the second plate and Harriett took them both to the dinner tray.
“It would be best to leave the issue alone. It’s not an allogation to be made lightly.” She said before heading for the kitchens to return the plates.
In that case I will need to gather more evidence.
Agnus donned his bathrobe over his pajamas and slipped into the hall.
“It will be good to stretch my legs.”
-
It was dark outside. Agnus stood in the front foyer.
9:37 pm and 28 seconds.
The dinner and social hour was long over.
Most of the staff will be wrapping up for the night. I should be able to find Mr. Fitzroy be in the den where we held our first session or his rooms.
Agnus retraced his steps to the parlor where he had his class with Tucker. He was not there.
The servants wing would be opposite of great uncle’s rooms. Would Harriet, or Mr. Fitzroy be with the servants or would they have rooms with the family and guests?
Agnus sifted through the information he had collected. Conversations he had over heard, examples from poetry, people passing by in his peripheral vision.
Where is Tucker’s room? 85% chance I’ll find him in the west wing, there is a floor below mine.
Agnus strolled along the hallways and through the front hall until he came to the stairwell the servants used to travel between floors. Their stairwell was behind a door disguised as a wall.
My room is on the floor above.
He took the opposite door on the landing without going up or down.
He stepped out into a hallway similar to his own except this one had portraits of the matrons of the Bachman household over the years. Between the portraits there were tall standing vases with silk flowers.
Agnus looked down at the plush blue carpet the ran the length of the hall. He laid down to get a better perspective on the footprints. Few people had come this way recently.
Small feet from the maids. Large leather soles of Mr. Henley. There! Fuzzy, scuffed prints from Mr. Fitzroy’s chinos.
Agnus followed the foot prints to the room near the end of the hall. It was an old oak door framed by two of the large vases of flowers.
Agnus raised his hand to knock but then he started running the scenario through his head and hesitated.
What was my plan? Was I going to simply ask to see his arm? How would that come up casually in conversation?
There were foot steps behind the door and Agnus had a second to decide if he was going to stand there or hide.
The door swung open and Tucker stepped out of his room. He looked both ways down the hallway and tucked a folded up bundle higher under his arm.
Where is he going so cautiously? What’s he carrying?
Agnus peeked from behind the tall vase of flowers, barely a foot away from his tutor as the man locked the door to his room. He strode off down the hall away from Agnus leaving the boy alone and confused.
Do I follow him? Or do I try to search his room?
Tucker reached the end of the hall and took the stairway down.
His door is locked and I’m not a locksmith.
Agnus considered the lock for a second then cast a glance towards the stairway at the end of the hall.
Actually, I’ve not been to the lower floors.
-
Agnus went as fast as his legs would carry him. He was sore already from the extended exercise. He reached the stairwell down and leaned over the rail to look for Tucker.
The tutor was two floors down already and moving fast.
There are 8 landings that’s 4 floors down to the lowest level. How big is this estate?
Agnus went down after him following silently.
At each landing Agnus peeked over the rail to see if Tucker was still descending. The tutor passed the 7th landing without stopping.
Bottom floor it is then.
Angus rushed down the stairs then, listening for the clasp of a door to signal that the tutor had left the stairwell. He passed the 6th landing and had still not heard the man leave the stairwell so he slowed his pace.
When he reached the seventh landing some instinct told him to stop and wait.
Is he just standing down there? Did he hear me following him? This could be a trap.
Agnus laid down on the carpeted landing and scooted to the edge of the railing and peeked over.
A man stood in black silk cloak before a black door.
As Agnus watched. He knelt, bowed his head and spoke in hushed whispers over a black leather bound book.
Is this what he’s been doing?
The cloaked man stood. Stretched his arms out and whispered some more. The rhythm and cadence felt familiar but Agnus could not place them.
The cloaked man knelt and stood three more times. He then pulled a necklace from a pocket of his robe and held it over his hands. Agnus got a good look at the symbol wrought in gold hanging from the chain.
The same symbol came alight on the door.
Tucker pulled the necklace over his head. He bowed once more before opening the door and walking through.
Agnus waited until the door closed before rushing down the stairs.
What a bizarre spectacle. His first day, how did he know this doorway was down here?
Agnus looked around the landing. There was a thin rug in the hard wood floor. Behind him were wooden cubbies built into the wall under the stairs. Each one contained slippers and clothes.
Twelve cubbies and all of them are full.
Agnus turned to look at the door with the strange symbol.
It’s Dwarvish. It’s the same symbol from that book of poetry. The poem was about destiny or fate. Does this symbol mean destiny?
He reached out to try the latch and it turned easily opening the door.
A dark hallway lit by crystals in sconces every 12 feet. The floor was simple rough cut stone, worn smooth by countless feet.
Bedrock. And at a 10% slope down. This hallway leads deep into the earth.
Distant voices echoed up from the depths.
They are all down there chanting.
Agnus followed the voices down the hallway. It was a strait shot without turning, steadily sloping down into the foundation of the city.
“My brothers and sisters!” A voice called out. “The time is fast approaching.”
The chanting trickled off and the man continued to speak.
“Brothers and sisters, scholars of the thousand-year flame, tonight we gather at the threshold of destiny. For centuries, our order toiled in the shadows, piecing together the fragments left by the ancients who walked before us—the architects of the slumbering city!”
Agnus came to the end of the hallway and it turned to stairs leading into a vast chamber. He stoped back from the circle of light.
The cult leader wore a long white porcelain mask with fangs and a sad face. There were horns on the side of the mask jutting strait up and back like knives.
He stood on a stone platform intricately carved with braids and gears. Below him there were 12 cultists kneeling on the stone.
“Below us lies the silent city, the cradle of salvation buried beneath the corrupted sprawl of New Amsterdam! And we, the chosen of its secrets, have been tasked with restoring its heart.”
The cultists murmured in reverence.
What is he talking about? Is there a city under New Amsterdam? A lost Dwarven city?
“The ancestors knew the path would be long and fraught with trials. They left us their scriptures—etched in gears, woven in servos, and whispered in the hum of our thinking machines. For generations, we have deciphered these texts, built tools from their plans, and inched ever closer to fulfilling our purpose.”
The leader stepped closer to the congregation, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. Agnus inched closer so he could hear.
“And now, my children, the signs are clear. The machines will stir. The ancient core whispered to me. Soon a selection will be made. A new terminal core will be added to our arsenal. A new era of technological advancement that will usher us out of this steam and coal age.”
“We will endure.” The cultists whispered in unison.
“The surface dwellers will not understand; they will seek to destroy what they fear. Few have even a glimpse of what is to come. It will arrive silently generations from now. Yet we are unyielding. Are we not?”
“We are unyielding!” They shouted.
Agnus slipped on the stairs, startled by their sudden yell.
Cultists turned to watch him slide down several steps. In a moment of silence Agnus heard the cult leader draw a dagger.
There is the Librarian and Tucker, and those two women are maids.
“Intruder!” Someone yelled.
Agnus ran.