Jason touched the top of his forehead, where a scab had formed after the battle. He walked briskly towards the town’s gathering point with the rest of the councilmembers. I need to find a proper mirror, he thought. The polished bit of metal Alex has just doesn’t cut it. Actually, that might not be a bad idea for an export.

“Alex, do they have polished-silver mirrors here?”

The former merchant thought about it for a moment before replying. “A few of the more wealthy merchants and craftsmen in Brighton show them off, but they are very costly. Not everyone can afford to appease their vanity with solid silver. In fact, it’s a bit of a status symbol.”

Yes! Jason smiled. It’s a perfect product. Very valuable, portable for easy transportation, and should be relatively inexpensive to produce. The modern version is just glass and a thin layer of silver painted on the back, right? Or some other reflective metal?

“Can we make clear glass?”

“I don’t believe we can make any glass right now, my lord,” Alex replied. “We don’t have any glassmakers.”

“Can we hire some? Are there any in Brighton that we could tempt to move here?” Jason asked.

“I’m not sure,” Alex said, “but I can certainly ask Earna and Edvin to ask around.”

“Who?” Samantha, Jason’s new assistant, spoke up as they neared their destination.

“Earna and Edvin Blackburne. They’re that young couple I found that are going to be the merchant arm of our growing town,” Alex explained.

“Ahh, yes. Thank you, and please do ask them to find out if we can get glassmakers,” Jason requested. “But what about the clear glass? Does it exist in this area?”

“I’ve seen glass without color before. I’m not sure where it came from, though,” Alex replied.

“Let me know when you find out,” Jason ended the conversation as they arrived at the spot by the ironworks that had become the de facto town gathering place. The table he stood on for the pre-battle speech had been replaced by a low stage, with steps leading up to it. Probably much more dignified than clambering up that table, Jason chuckled. The new town council joined him on stage, and Jason stepped to the front of the platform.

The lord introduced his new official council to applause by the townsfolk. The joyous cacophony grew when Jason reminded the town of their recent victory against the Silver Kingdom.

When the applause, cheering, and yells finally subsided, Jason continued. “People will tell stories of the great victory.” A few more cheers rang out. “You’ll hear them say, ‘Did you hear about those incredible people who beat back those invaders from the silver kingdom?’ ‘Oh, who?’ the listener will say.”

“And what will be the reply? ‘That town, over there, by the river in that general direction; I don’t know its name.’” Jason’s audience was much less enthusiastic about that. “It doesn’t make for a heroic ending to the story, does it?” Jason asked the silent crowd. “We need an actual name. Which is why I’m excited to announce to you today that from now on, we have one. A name you can tell your friends and neighbors. A name that will mean home to your children. A banner under which to continue our journey to greatness. Men and women, boys and girls… you live in Enderton.

Cheers rang out, and applause filled the air.

---

When Samantha ate her last meal of the day with her parents, her father asked her, “Why Enderton? It’s not a bad name; I just don’t believe I’ve ever heard the name ‘Ender’ before.”

“I am not sure, father,” she replied, a thoughtful frown on her face. “Half of the things he says I do not understand. But I did hear him say something like ‘nerds are cool’ and talk about a book. Perhaps he will let me read it someday.”

“Perhaps,” her mother responded, a speculative look on her face.

---

Jason finally got to meet Edvin and Earna when they returned from Brighton. “The smiles on your face either mean you had a good trip or are glad to be back home,” Jason observed. “So, which is it?” the lord asked with a smile on his face.

“Both, my lord,” Edvin replied.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jason grinned.

Earna spoke up, “Edvin was able to buy more saltpeter and set up a regular delivery. This cask is filled to the brim with it.”

Jason eyed the approximately five-gallon barrel speculatively. “We’ll get this amount how often?”

“Once every two weeks,” Edvin said.

“Not bad,” Jason said as he performed some mental calculations. We’ll undoubtedly be able to build up some ammunition, but we’ll need to find more if we want to expand our military capacity or fight even one protracted battle in the near future. Can’t count on all their men giving us a quick victory like last time.

“Please continue to search for more sources. We’ll take all you can buy, within reason.”

“Of course, my lord, “ Earna responded. “We also sold our lumber samples to several furniture makers and carpenters in Brighton. They seemed happy with our prices, and you’ll make a reasonable profit even after paying for transportation. You’ll be able to sell quite a few wagon loads per week.”

“Great. We’ll have to limit it to one wagon per week since we use as much lumber as we can make here at the moment. We do have to make money, though, or my coin purse will not be happy. You may want to keep your prices just a little high while there’s more demand than we can supply.”

They continued discussing trade opportunities for some time, with the two of them agreeing to search for sources of glass-grade sand and the minerals and workers that would be required to attempt to start up their own glassmaking operation in Enderton. Finally, they said their goodbyes, and Jason strode over to where men were digging a trench leading into town.

The lord followed the trench toward where it began, by the river well above the town. He stood by what would be the inlet where running water was taken into pipes and gravity-fed down into the settlement. The difference in height would provide all the water pressure needed, and Jason was looking forward to running water and flushing toilets in his medieval home.

He glanced at the water flowing by the as-of-yet disconnected inlet and watched a leaf swirl by on the current. It was truly relaxing.

Then he did a double-take and grimaced. You keep on missing details, Jason. He scolded himself. I was so confident that there was no one upstream, and that it was pure with no chemicals and minimal germ issues, that I didn’t think about the sediment that is sure to be washed in as well. For the bigger stuff, we can have a screen, but what am I going to do about the smaller particles? How didn’t I think about this before?

Samantha, who had been following along, finally couldn’t hold it in.

“My lord…” she began, “you seem distressed. Can I help?”

Jason was startled out of his self-incrimination. “Oh, yeah. I just realized I am missing a key part of this plan,” he said and outlined the issues.

“So you need to figure out a way to prevent dirt and small rocks from getting in, is what I hear you say?” Sam asked.

“Yes. And I can’t think of a way to manufacture a fine enough filter to do that, especially one that would hold up to the volume of water we need,” Jason grumbled, mostly to himself.

“Do we really need one? If you’ve already hauled water and a bit of dirt gets in it, most people just let the bucket sit for a while, then pour the cleaner water off of the top,” Samantha questioned.

“Well, right now, it probably wouldn’t matter much, and not at all for things like toilets, but for drinking and cooking water, the high flow through the system will probably not let the water settle out until it’s out of the tap and in the glass,” he admitted. “But you may be on to something. We could pipe the water into a large tank, many tens of thousands of gallons, perhaps. Then we could let the dirt particles settle out. We would pump water from near the top of the other side of the sedimentation tank, and if the volume of the tank was large enough compared to the flow rate, I think we’d take care of most of the issues,” he started to ramble.

“Girl,” Jason refocused his gaze, “You’re a genius.”

“Um, thank you, my lord,” she awkwardly replied. “But I don’t think I did much.”

“Nonsense. Sometimes genius is simply the right prompt at the right time. Few inventors change the world by themselves. Most bounce a good-ish idea off their colleagues enough for it to turn into a great one. Don’t sell yourself short, colleague.”

I don’t even know what that word means, Samantha thought. But it sounds like a compliment. “I’m glad I could help, my lord.”

“Call me Jason, please,” he offered. “You’re going to be working closely with me, and it would just be too strange to hear you call me your lord all the time.”

Definitely a compliment, Sam decided.