Chapter 15 - Cera - Von Industries Interview

Cera just wanted to get back home and bury her face in the pillow. Was her glee apparent on her face? What if it really was? That would be so unprofessional of her. What if Madam Helena got a bad impression of her because of that?

She couldn't have that happening when she was so close! She was almost done and had managed to somehow not crash and burn on her first big assignment. The compensation just for going around factories and coming for this interview was twenty crowns! More than two weeks of her usual salary.

Maybe she could even pay to get some steam at the house for the next two weeks. Verdant order posted that it would snow heavily this fortnight, and Mum was already a little out of sorts. It will definitely make her feel better—.

"Miss Cera?" a voice registered in her mind, and she snapped out of her daydreams, quickly schooling her expression back to the stoic one she had cultivated after so much practice.

"Yes?" said Cera to the secretary that came out of Madam's workroom.

"I apologize for the long delay. Please come in. Madam is waiting for you."

"Thanks. Please lead the way."

This whole situation was a windfall she had never even expected. Cera was picked by the boss to tour the many factories of Von Industries, and now, she was to meet the famous or actually infamous, Helena Von Arden. If she didn't muck it up, there was even a chance that she could be chosen to become a contracted scribe for Von Industries.

If that happened, Mum and Dad won't have any other excuses not to move out of that shabby house. But she didn't know what she had done to deserve this. What was she going to be judged on once she was inside? Would it be some kind of test? Her writing skills? Her boss hadn't given her any clues on what to expect.

Now that it was the time to actually go in, her heart was racing faster than the chains of that sawing machine she had seen today. What if she gave Madam Helena a bad first impression? What if she was as scary as they said? What if I commit some Faux Pas, and she complains about it to the agency?

She shook her head and got up. Madam wasn't going to wait for her to feel confident, or she would be waiting forever. She took off her ragged coat and fixed her outfit one final time. She was in her best attire for this meeting, saved for special occasions just like this. Even if it had a few touches of dust from the rough day in the factories, it was still presentable.

Her high-collared cotton blouse was warm ivory, tucked into a thick woolen skirt dyed a rich cobalt blue, which clung to her in folds of warmth and comfort. As if that wasn't excessive enough, she even had her favorite black cotton stockings on, which didn't quite match her outfit but looked great with her sturdy boots—or so she hoped.

"Please follow me," said the secretary as she pushed open the ornate door.

Chucking that annoying bang out of her face, she lifted her shoulder-length hair a little to give them a tad more volume, which Mum said made her look more imposing. She quickly closed her eyes and prayed, Oh, Benevolent Ephram, the great conductor of fate, grant me the confidence, open all gates.

Grant me the confidence, open all gates. Mum would be so mad if Cera told her she almost forgot to pray before going in.

Then she hung the satchel with her essentials on her shoulders and hurried behind the secretary into the workroom, leaving the thick shaggy coat and scarf in the corridor outside.

The now-familiar smell of metal filled her nose again as a luxurious chamber entered her eyes, its golden opulence more than just dazzling. Every inch of it was filled with gadgets and contraptions that showed off the mechanical advancement of Von Industries. Some of whose manufacturing processes she had seen just today.

On the ceiling was an enormous chandelier made of those devices, which rubbed some precious crystal to produce golden light. Then there was that over-the-top table which had a smooth metal top and legs that looked like pistons. Sprockets and cogs wrapped around each of them, somehow allowing one to change the height and width of the table by pulling a lever. She had seen it happen twice and still didn't know what sorcery was going on in those cogs.

The walls were decorated with different variations of firearms. Some were clearly made for large animals outside the bridges, while the rest were designed to handle the outlaws of the city.

All three generations of Kingsmen's Ignition Blades adorned the alcoves in each of the walls, reminding her of all the times she had recently seen these blades conclude situations in the city—mostly with someone dead or disabled. Apparently, the latest ones could even melt bullets, working both as a defensive and offensive weapon.

Finally, there was the giant clock that hung behind the madam's seat, encased in transparent glass, showing off all its intricate and sophisticated clockwork in full glory. Every tick, a section of hundreds of cogs turned in unison, perfectly shifting the long second hand over to its next destination.

Having done everything to distract herself from the nervousness that was building up, she finally took in the sight of Madam Helena by the window and found herself dumbstruck.

"Ma'am, this is Miss Cera Thorne from Sharlam Daily. She just returned from the tour and is here for the marketing scribe interview."

The tall woman turned around, her long burgundy hair following her whims, falling over her shoulder in silky waves. She wore an exquisite beige day dress and draped over it was a thin red robe extending all the way to her feet. The robe had designs of cogs and machinery embroidered onto it, which helped blend her charm into this fantastique atmosphere.

She had soft features that contrasted with her vibrant hair and sharp eyes. But how was this person, someone in their late thirties? Wasn't she supposed to be this ruthless, sinister woman that laid waste to most other rivaling manufacturers in the city, leading Von Industries to its current height? But this was a gorgeous woman with nigh-infinite charm.

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"Yes, I remember. Please have a seat Miss Cera," said Madam with her silken tone, gesturing towards the piston table.

Cera's brain had yet to completely process the sight, but her body knew what to do. She pulled the edges of her skirt to either side and curtsied in an exaggerated manner, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am Helena."

Madam simply nodded and walked towards her chair, which was just as complex as most other contraptions in the room.

Cera hurried to one of the two seats across Madam and settled down, nimbly retrieving her writing tools and some papers from the satchel in case she was to write something. Let's not be dumb. It's very simple. She isn't even scary. She's just another person.

"How did you like the tour of our factories? I hope you didn't have a hard time getting around to all of them since some are a few bridges apart," said Madam as she nonchalantly grabbed a pencil and started drawing something, not even looking at Cera.

"Oh please don't worry about me. It was really an eye-opening experience and I didn't expect that so much goes into making these machines I see every day. Also, the snow has yet to clog the roads, so carriages were aplenty, and the journey was beautiful." Obviously it was a marvelous experience. Everything was paid for by her newspaper agency, after all.

"Well, that sounds wonderful. In that case, I won't dilly-dally any further. You've already seen the whole slew of new devices we're working on."

Madam looked back up for a second, meeting Cera's eyes, her pupils a dazzling golden, "So, Miss Cera, please honestly tell me, What do you think will be the effect of these inventions on society moving forward." while the sounds of pencil scratching across paper never stopped.

As expected, she is going straight to the point. Cera didn't have the luxury to care about Madam's drawing. Her brain was churning hundreds of ideas on how to articulate her response.

Was this the test? If so, she could do it. Mum had always said she was good at worrying about the future. No. No. That just meant she was good at thinking about the future.

"Ahh, I see. In that case, I will go one by one," sitting upright, Cera wet her lips and started speaking, "According to me, the one with the most influence over the city would be the wind-up lanterns. Especially in boroughs inhabited by people from the working class like myself."

"Most people I know in my neighborhood simply end their day at sundown because it's too expensive to burn oil or gas for the lamp. Not a cost worth paying just for some extra light. But according to the fundamentalist at the factory, these lanterns only need to be wound up once every other hour, and that only takes a few minutes of physical work to do so. So, if the price is right, the fact that one lantern has a lifetime of three years makes it a very appealing purchase."

"Kids would have more time to study because right now, no one wants their child to go sit under street lamps in biting cold. Together with wind-up stations for anyone that can't wind the lamps themselves and bigger machines using the same pollution-free mechanical art, this will be very beneficial for the society as a whole."

It almost made her wonder why it had taken those fundamentalists so long to come up with this. They've been thriving for over a decade now, after all.

Stopping for a few seconds, she thought hard and came up with the next part of her answer, "Mhm, another one that would bring about a very evident change to the society by making snow much more manageable would be that uh…uh—" she flipped her notes in panic, trying to remember the name of that specific device.

"Frost furnace." completed Madam Helena, leaning in further into her drawing as locks of those ruby hairs fell to either side.

"Ah, yes. The frost furnace." Ughh! How had she forgotten the name when she just reasoned so much about its uses? But she had to keep going.

Picking back up her train of thought, she spoke, "That's going to be such a convenient tool in the winter. A poll last year done by our newspaper showed that more than seventy percent of the people in Westerleigh borough loathe the snow because of how it entirely ruins their travel plans."

"So, if it works as intended, it will become a cakewalk to clean the streets of snow and keep the city well-connected even after snowstorms. Roads won't be blocked for too long, emergency funds spent by the crown to cope with unexpected storms will be reduced, and establishments could lower the buffer of stock they have to keep. Its effects will be very wide and far-reaching." But she didn't like it. It wasn't all as sunny as she had made it sound.

Another brief pause, and she knew what to say, "Next would be—"

"Stop." the scribbles stopped abruptly, and Madam looked at Cera with a frown.

Oh no! She had done it. She had definitely done something wrong. Was it the stumble? Did I say something inaccurate? Or maybe it was my speech intonation? What was she to do now?

Madam Helena's resplendent golden eyes bore through Cera as she spoke in an impassive tone, "Miss Cera, I asked you to speak honestly, didn't I? Did you know that you're the third person Sharlam has sent to me that has done this?"

It was over. She was even being told that she would be sent back like others. Others she didn't even know about. Why hadn't boss Sharlam told her about any of this? "Umm, no, Ma'am. I didn't mean to, I just—"

"Please let me finish, Miss Cera. I said I wanted your honest personal opinion, not one tailored to please me."

"I do think Sharlam has chosen well this time, but please don't mock my intelligence like this. I don't really seek to hire incompetent employees that can't even follow orders properly."

Every word that came out of Madam's mouth felt like a boulder that dropped in Cera's heart, sinking it deeper and deeper.

I have offended one of the most powerful people in the city without even knowing or intending to! How did she even realize I wasn't speaking my mind?

What was this situation? Was her career over already? What would she say to mum?

No. Madam had yet to kick her out. If she was fast enough, this might still be salvageable.

Cera took a deep breath and made up her mind. Apologizing didn't seem like the right idea at this moment, and a different approach was necessary. So if madam wanted honesty, then that's what she was gonna get.

"Then please pardon my rude words, but most of the gadgets in production right now are a double-edged sword. They will bring about the deaths of thousands of citizens just this winter, and who knows how many in coming years." She closely examined Madam's expression and continued when she didn't show any signs of interrupting.

"A lot of people just in my neighborhood are regularly contracted by the Bureau of public affairs to carry out the task of snow removal. But with this frost furnace in the picture, the arduous task of shoveling, transporting, and depositing snow that took dozens of men could be done by just one."

Her father had worked these miscellaneous jobs for years on end, but their family still had to skip meals every other day to barely manage tuition for her studies. How many others like her were still there?

"I understand that the evolution of mechanical arts has always meant the displacement of jobs, but these people are illiterate due to the last emperor's prejudiced policies. So that means they can't really find any other jobs this winter."

"They are barely surviving by doing all these odd jobs in this harsh weather, and taking that away means they won't have food on their table for the night. On top of that—may benevolent Ephram protect me, but Emperor Aldric wouldn't care one whit if it meant a better outcome for the city as a whole," said Cera, all in one breath.

Madam had gone back to scribbling more lines, but the frown that creased her brow was no more, and her lips seemed to be upturned a little by the corner. Was that maybe a smile? Did that mean it wasn't over just yet, and she could go back and give Mum some happy news?

A little more confident, Cera continued, "However, I am not just talking about Frost Furnace. Von Industries has already mechanized a lot of work in the factories, and some of your new devices will definitely aid other industries in doing the same. That's going to change the lives of more than a fifth of the whole population of Elmhurst that currently works in these fact—"

"Aggghhh!!!"

A shriek escaped Cera's mouth as her eyes widened in horror. The secretary… just disappeared.

A healthy woman had just disappeared in front of her eyes! The elegant woman that stood beside Madam Helena since the start of this conversation was nowhere to be seen. All that was left were her luxurious clothes that fell on the floor with a rustle.