Chapter 441: Repairs
Dealing with people the likes of Gordon wasn't exactly Charles' forte. Fortunately, he had subordinates skilled in this aspect.
Leonardo brought along two others to represent Charles on the negotiation battlefield against Gordon, and their exchange quickly grew fierce and heated.
At the height of their dispute, both parties even made less-than-flattering remarks about each other's mothers. When the negotiations ceased, however, and it was time to sign the contract, their faces beamed with smiles as they shook hands and exchanged warm, enthusiastic hugs.
Staring at the fake smiles on their faces, Charles couldn't help but think that he might have obstructed his Minister of Administration from pursuing his calling. If he had joined the chamber of commerce with those merchants, he could have achieved even greater success.
The Royal Chamber of Commerce and Hope Island laid the groundwork for an initial partnership in the Relic Research Institute. Gordon promised that the Chamber would dispatch key factor personnel and a massive labor force as soon as possible.
In exchange, he demanded exclusive distribution and selling rights of Hope Island's output, including future industrial products produced by the factories and the current rich agricultural offerings.
The acceleration of development on Charles' Hope Island was inevitable, but the merchants wouldn't be on a losing end either. With a monopoly over all of the island's output, their wallets would soon be overflowing.
This was merely the beginning phase of their partnership, and more details were to be meticulously worked out in the coming days. However, Charles did not need to concern himself with those matters; Leonardo and his team would deal with them.
Satisfied, Gordon left to report the exhilarating news to the Chamber's president through telegram. As soon as the man went out of sight, the expression on Charles' face turned somber. He knocked on the wall next to him, and a group of mice emerged from a hole in the corner.
"Dispatch your mice to secure the entire relic institute tightly. We cannot let Gordon or any of his people discover how we create the Ascendants. If they learned the full procedure, those unscrupulous merchants would surely break off the agreement and start their own venture."
Squeak squeak!
The brown mice around Charles squeaked anxiously in understanding.
Though Gordon had left, Charles' work was far from complete. He remembered the gift that the corpulent man had left behind.
"All products from the institute should be prioritized for enhancing the analytical engine. Its potential must extend beyond mere computation and data storage.
"Get the brightest minds on our island to study and analyze the blueprints of the analytical engine and fully grasp this technology. If we can't find those brains here, source them from other islands. We must take control of this technology for Hope Island's sake!"
Leonardo's face revealed a surprise look. "Governor, is that massive machine really that important?"
Charles swiftly let his Minister of Administration in on everything about computers on the surface world. Every detail made the light in Leonardo's eyes burn even brighter. If Charles' words were true, controlling such technology would significantly enhance the overall strength of Hope Island.
Shortly, all key leaders on Hope Island convened at the Governor's Mansion for a meeting to discuss the partnership with Gordon.
Departments were informed about the anticipated directions of the island's growth. Following a thorough discussion, unanimous support was secured.
Charles couldn't pinpoint the exact changes his island would undergo, but he was certain of one thingthey would surely be transformative.
It didn't take long before smokestacks started sprouting, piercing the canopy overhead to belch out black smoke. The island lacked a massive workforce with essential skills; there was enough manpower to at least carry out some operations.
Other factories could wait to start, but the munitions factory always took precedence. In addition, their latest products would always serve the Governor first and foremost.
"Do you mean to say this entire cannon is made from Type-3 Steel?" Charles asked. He was standing in the vast shipyard with his gaze fixated on the massive black cannon suspended by giant chains.
"Yes, Governor. A deck cannon like this won't suffer the softening and bursting that other cannons do. According to your needs, it can handle firing up to 30 rounds in a minute and would not overheat at all," the bespectacled ship designer reported. He seemed to have aged even more since the last time Charles saw him. He was no longer just a mere designer but had become the shipyard's director.
The tragedy of Albion Isles seemed to have left no marks on the man's countenance, though only the man himself would know if the event had left any scars on his heart.
"Install it, and we'll test it out," Charles commanded. At his order, the pulleys above the shipyard whirred into action and lowered the would-be-overworked cannon onto the newly repaired deck of the Narwhale.
On the deck, the shipwrights in white gloves and overalls stood ready with various tools at hand.
Charles turned to James and asked, "What's the production rate of Type-3 Steel? Do we have enough to replace the entire ship's hull with it?"
A troubled expression suffused James' face. "I'm sorry, Captain, but we don't have that much on hand. This new material is so useful that the Navy snaps them as soon as a batch is produced.
"Unless we melt down the cannons we've already made with the previous batches, we're not going to have enough to replace the entire ship's hull."
Charles turned his gaze to the Narwhale's hull marred with dents and potholes. Firming his resolve, he said, "Then, melt them all. Let's give our old friend a new coat."
With no naval battle in sight for Hope Island's fleet, retaining the resources for their training warfare seemed less prudent than bolstering the Narwhale's defenses. At least he could put the material to the test in his upcoming voyage.
James nodded. "Alright, I'll pass down the orders."
"Make it swift. We're on the last stretch now, and I don't want any delays," Charles said, his gaze becoming a bit melancholic as he stared at the Narwhale.
"Captain, has the next destination been decided?" James asked softly.
Charles nodded. "Yes. But before that, the Narwhale has to be fully repaired, and we need to recruit new members to fill the empty crew positions."
Suddenly, the shipyard director stepped forward and inquired, "Governor, why don't you consider switching to a new ship? Frankly speaking, instead of patching the current one up, it might be better to just build a new vessel."
"Adjusting to a new ship takes time, so it's fine. And besides," Charles paused as his eyes turned to the swaying ropes on the Narwhale's deck. The corners of his lips curved upward into a slight smile as he continued, "I've grown accustomed to her. I'd like her to accompany me on my final voyage."
Charles didn't know if other captains would feel the same, but his ship held sentimental value for him. The Narwhal was his very first exploration vessel, after all.
Just as Charles continued to stare at the Narwhale, a shadow flitted by in the corner of his eye. He instinctively turned toward it but found nothing. He then looked away and stared at the cannon installation procedure.
Just then, a figure darted out from behind the massive ship's anchor and rushed at Charles.
Charles' finger was about to pull the trigger of his revolver when the intruder halted three meters away from him.
"Hope Island Navy, assigned to the 34th Lighthouse Ship, Border Guard Norton Wright, reporting to the Governor, sir!"
Charles studied the young man before him.
Norton Wright stood tall and straight with a sharp gaze. He seemed as if he were an unsheathed sword, ready for action.
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