Chapter 128: Civilization?

"How did you manage to stabilize the voltage?" Lucius finally asked aloud, picking up his fallen stylus.

"When you lectured us about the intertwining relationship between chemical corrosion and electron flow, and how they are inseparable, I wondered if I could force the reaction to behave like a circle instead of a straight line," Gaia answered cautiously. "I tried using a lead plate instead of copper, and submerged it in a specific sulfur-oxide bath. Because you said creating continuous electricity requires a stable transfer of ions... it just turned out this way."

That explains it... Lucius thought, profoundly stunned.

A standard primary battery just burned chemical fuel until it died. But a lead-acid cell utilized reversible sulfate reactions.

If he supplied it with reverse current later, it could literally be recharged...

In a modern laboratory, this was basic chemistry.

But here, Lucius understood that the sheer intellectual leap this girl had made could not be judged by standard Roman metrics.

He could only wonder if Gaia truly understood the magnitude of the chemical loop she had just engineered.

When Lucius asked her about the specific ionic transfer, she nodded, then shook her head.

"You did exceptional work today, Gaia. You are promoted to the position of Chief Chemical Engineer of the Syndicate."

"Congratulations, child." Isolda stepped forward.

"Now, am I authorized to build more industrial weapons for the Forge Master?" Gaia asked.

"Yes, countless weapons," Lucius laughed. "As I’ve told you since the day I pulled you from the slums, you possess terrifying potential. But first, return to your barracks and sleep. You have dark circles the size of denarii under your eyes. I will test your battery prototype this afternoon."

"Yes, Dominus!" she nodded vigorously, skipping out of the room.

After the doors clicked shut behind Gaia, Isolda purposefully slid the deadbolt into place, shifting her attention to Lucius.

Ignoring her usual stance by the window, the spymaster drew incredibly close to the desk.

What is happening? Lucius thought, slightly panicked.

"Tell me the shortcut," Isolda whispered.

"What shortcut?" Lucius asked, blinking in confusion.

"The method to achieve an evolution without having to read that agonizing Foundations of Advanced Calculus textbook you assigned to the officer corps!" she demanded excitedly. "I can easily tell from Gaia’s messy handwriting that she barely understands theoretical algebra, yet you just declared her a genius! What should I do to master artillery trajectories? Should I play with glass jars and acid too?"

Ah, she is just begging for a way to skip her homework. What a massive relief... Lucius cleared his throat, quickly regaining his composure.

"I am afraid your abilities will not magically evolve through a sudden flash of laziness, Isolda."

"Why not?"

"The only method for you to develop your strategic command is a sound understanding of trigonometry, physics, and advanced calculus." Lucius explained.

Isolda walked feebly to the couch and collapsed into it, staring at the ceiling, looking exactly as if her very soul had been hollowed out by a trench-club.

After a brief lunch of salted pork, Lucius spent the afternoon conducting a rigorous stress test on Gaia’s new battery prototype.

He formally designated it the "Lead-Acid Accumulator."

It could be scaled up and applied to any closed circuit, and it would provide a stable, continuous direct current based on the volume of the sulfuric acid bath.

However, if the lead plates oxidized, the current would eventually die...

Lucius determined that while the chemical breakthrough was astonishing, its raw industrial output was weak.

It could easily light up two small vacuum bulbs, providing stable illumination for the praetorium.

Unfortunately, his vision of industry required a truly vast amount of electrical amperage.

The greater the workload, the greater the demand for raw voltage.

After a lengthy series of tests, Lucius found that Gaia’s battery was a superb tool for lighting and minor telegraphy, but it was insufficient to replace a steam engine.

He tested the battery by hooking it up to a small, prototype direct-current copper motor he had built for a water pump, and the result was disappointing.

The motor consumed all of the chemical energy within the box in mere minutes, stuttering to a halt before it could even pump a single gallon of water.

That meant chemical batteries could not be used as a primary source of industrial torque.

Lucius explicitly chose not to tell Gaia the disappointing results. Instead, he planned to encourage her to keep refining the chemical purity of the acid, because she was young and he feared that catastrophic news would devastate her newfound confidence.

Besides, he already knew that the transition to an electrical age was not a magical transformation, but a grinding metamorphosis through continuous failure and learning...

In the late evening, he went down to the logistics pavilion to speak with Aulus.

"An electrical generator requiring purified permanent magnets?" the Chief Auditor said after hearing the Forge Master’s theoretical blueprints.

He rubbed his chin in deep thought and answered, "There is no merchant guild in Gaul or Britannia that can supply that volume of high-grade lodestone."

"Truly?" Lucius asked, heaving a frustrated sigh. "It seems my engineers will have to depend on low-yield chemical batteries for the foreseeable future."

Yet what Aulus said next instantly reignited the fire in Lucius’s eyes.

"However, Dominus... I know exactly which Roman province we need to conquer to find the magnetic ore you require."

***

"You mean to tell me... this magistrate refused to defect to the Syndicate when you offered him the trade routes?" Lucius grasped the implication of Aulus’s report.

"Exactly, Dominus." Aulus shook his bearded head with a look of frustration. "His name is Prefect Flavius, and he currently holds absolute dominion over the province of Noricum. That mountainous region possesses the purest veins of magnetite ore on the European continent. Furthermore, Flavius employs a localized guild of master metallurgists who know exactly how to align the iron to forge permanent magnets."

Aulus paused to unroll a map across the desk before continuing. "His fortress sits directly in the strategic heart of the Noricum pass."