Part 1

Artemis returns from the wall of rock, inviting us in. He tells Albert to unstrap himself from his armor, but the good knight objects, saying he would just stay outside to stand guard. We agree; it’s better to be cautious than be sorry, and not to mention, I am secretly suspicious of our new companion, Artemis.

Our company of three venture deep inside the wall of rock, surveying the area like thieves would. We familiarize ourselves with the dreaded hideout, passing by structures of no less than a hundred arranged neatly – row by row and column by column. Defended by gangs thousands of men strong, the place isn’t a mere hideout but a fortress. Smack! I slap my forehead once more. I feel as if I bit more than I can chew.

“What’s wrong, kid.” Ricardo asks.

“Well, we’ve seen a lot. It’s better we talk outside about the specifics.”

Not lasting an hour, we return to the surface, except Artemis, who says she’ll catch up to us. The knight, Albert, is excited to see us return, but frowns to hear my report, saying he would need to muster an army of at least half a thousand men to siege the place. Indeed, it’s a tough call for us.

Surrounded with darkness, we figure that discussions of this kind should be taken indoors. To continue with it, I invite the knight to our place, a plan which he agrees to without reservation.

It’s already late, but for some unknown reason, our way is blocked by masses of people crowding the streets. A street festival, or so we think, but no, people don’t look particularly cheerful. A commotion of some sort is going near our place.

With Albert’s help, we forge a path to our place, swiping people aside to get through until we find the reason for all the trouble – our neighborhood is on fire. On the street, we find the hapless manager watching his inn burn down. Bending down, he pounds the earth, wails and curses his fate.

Spotting us, he leers with bloodshot eyes. He points his finger and yells, “Those folks! They invited Crimson’s gang.” And immediately, the crowd’s judging eyes are cast upon us. I know I wouldn’t get out of this mess with just a mere apology.

Heavens sent, our good knight, Albert, intervenes, helping the man stand up. “I hear you, but it isn’t these gentlemen’s fault, but Crimson’s. I understand how you can’t place blame on the real culprit, considering how powerful he is.” And he yells, addressing the crowd, “REST ASSURED PEOPLE, THE TELEKNIGHTS WILL HANDLE THE CASE.”

Giving assurance, the knight manages to calm the crowd down. He even lends assistance in fighting the fire, posing as the fire squad leader, commanding where things go and how things are done. Again, we are saved by Sir Albert’s heroism – his bright golden aura shines in the midst of chaos and darkness.

Still, I have plenty of things to worry about. The letters, they got burned in the incident. Now, I’m not too sure whether I can still go on with this journey. But it’s a shame if I quit after investing so much time and effort. It’s just a stretch, very close to the goal.

“What’s eating you up?” Sneakily, Artemis makes it to the venue, but late; the fire’s out and our place is gone. I decide it’s better to move, but where? We’re penniless and dead broke.

“Linus, it’s better if you pass the night at my place.” The knight offers.

That was quick. It’s a trivial matter and the situation calls for it. So, I’ll take on our good knight’s offer. “We’re under your care, Sir Albert.”

Tired, we move to Hotel la Constance. A contrast, our dirty ragged outfits drag against the clean luxurious carpet at the reception. By the looks of it, the manager is not too happy to see the place being desecrated, but can’t say a thing or two to our knight, Albert.

Seated down and eating, we continue the discussion under candle light. We agree that sieging the hideout with only a few of our numbers is suicidal. And we agree also that rescuing Nina from the dungeon is a risky and dangerous plan.

Stabbing the steak on his plate with a fork, the knight suggests, “I’ll amass an army of 50 TAU Teleknights. Their combat capability should suffice.”

Munching bread, I ask, “I’m glad to hear that, but how much time would that take?”

“A couple of weeks… that wouldn’t do.” Biting the meat off his fork, he frowns. Certainly, we don’t think Nina could wait that long.

“I met with my men. And hearing about Jim’s death, they say they’re willing to join the uprising. There’s about a hundred of them.” Artemis slurps her noodles.

“That’s plenty helpful. You are god sent!” With an expression of relief, Albert clasps Artemis’ small hand within his palms.

“My good sir, the pleasure is mine~ ho, ho, ho, ho, hoo~” Artemis pulls her hand to her breasts. My skin crawls, for a second.

“Kid, no army is too great against the Silver Wolf. I stand equivalent to a thousand men.” Ricardo ruins the mood. He shows the usual glittery smile. I imagine Nina kicking him for giving such a naïve comment. Anyway, nobody cares, nobody responds. Poor man, he’s ignored.

A while passes and everyone’s dead exhausted and out of fresh ideas. And Ricardo does not help better the situation with his lame suggestions. The later the night goes, the quieter it becomes, until an inspiration hits me.

The table already clean, I lay down the concoction I have saved much earlier. From the confused look of my companions, I feel that the little balls of fire arouse much curiosity. I think it would be helpful to blow up the goons earlier, but seeing the magnitude of the fortress, I deem these gadgets unfit – we need more firepower.

“Artemis, I’m still doubtful of you, to be honest, but I’m running out of time and patience. To you as well, Sir Albert, I wish you keep the existence of this thing a secret. And Ricardo, no, no, no, no, and no, you may not talk about it with anyone. If I have made myself clear, let me demonstrate these things in the yard.”

“Duck and take cover!” In the open, I light up the charge. I dash and hide behind a wall for cover.

KABOOOOMM! The charge explodes, blowing the surrounding air at a tremendous speed and pressure, shattering weak glass windows, and forming a black noxious mushroom cloud of smoke and death. Shaken by the blast, a familiar sensation returns to me, my ears ring.

Never, never in my life have I thought of using my knowledge in a destructive manner, but the situation calls for it. We’re not the aggressors; they started it all, and they need to pay the price for their unforgivable crimes, 21st century style.

Behind, I look at my companion’s reactions.

Ricardo cowers like a dog, shaking and hugging a post. “Is it over, kid?” While Artemis’ eyes glitter, stunned. “Amazing!” And the knight is amused. “I’ve never seen such psi ability before.”

“Sir Albert, this isn’t psi ability. This is gun powder power, and this isn’t exclusive, which is why you need to keep it a secret. Anyone who knows can make it. With this, I believe we can siege the hideout with much fewer men.”

Albert keeps a stern face. “Indeed, Artemis’ men may hold. What are we waiting for?”

“This wouldn’t take a lot of time. But we have a problem, we need to make more of it. I need a trustworthy alchemist, a laboratory, and more funds.”

Part 2

Albert volunteers funds. He lays a bag of silver coins on the table. “Is this enough?”

“More than plenty, I believe. Thank you very much, I’ll repay your kind deeds in the future.”

Meanwhile, Artemis is more than eager to find me an alchemist and a facility to manufacture more gunpowder. Also, she monitors Nina, regularly. She says that our girl was alright. Worries aside, we commence our operations.

Early in the morning, Artemis escort me and the gang to the town’s outskirts, deep east. We follow a path paved with fine white gravel, festooned on the sides with greenery – trees, shrubs, and flowers – so neat that you can easily tell that someone regularly maintains them.

At the end of the trail, we find ourselves in front of an old house, about two stories tall. Of wooden construction, it is ornate with carvings, decorated well from side to side. Although it looks well aged with all the darkened patterns, spots, and stains on the woodwork, it is well maintained. It, too, isn’t foreign to the surroundings. It coexists peacefully with them. It’s surrounded by tall trees and mossy rocks by the side, a garden filled with ornate plants, a pool with ornate fish, and a yard neatly paved with smooth round pebbles, uniformly sized. Kids may say it’s a rundown old house, but it isn’t. I can already picture what kind of person lives in such a place.

“I’m impressed, Artemis. You say this is your former teacher’s place. He must be a great man.” Stroking my chin, I address her.

“You mean this shack? There’s nothing impressive about it being in the midst of the wilderness. But yeah, the teacher’s an impressive person. He knows many disciplines, alchemy aside.” Artemis, that thing being in the midst of the wilderness is very, very impressive. Look, your man is living off grid. Man, I’d like to talk with this person.

Artemis knocks on the door.

The door opens slightly, and a weak voice from within answers the call. “Who is it?”

“Master, it’s Artemis.”

“Go away! This is a place of learning. I have no dealings with hooligans like you.” BANG! The door closes shut.

Artemis pounds the heavy wooden door, desperately. “Master, we badly need you. Open up!”

No matter how desperately she calls, the master just won’t let up.

I figure, there’s no use pushing ourselves to this so called master, but we’ll at least have to try things out.

“Let me. I’ll talk with your master.” I push Artemis aside.

“Teacher, I do not know if you’re listening, but please hear my thoughts. Seeing how peaceful it is in here, and seeing how well you have managed your home and the garden and the surroundings, I can clearly understand why you would like to distance yourself from the likes of Artemis and the rest of the world, but please, the situation has changed. The society needs you. Your help will change the town of Mercantium for the better.”

The weak voice becomes antagonistic. “Insolent kid! Who are you to tell that to someone who has walked the earth for more than twenty times your existence? I have lived my life but have observed no change. Tyrants and empires fall, but they only get replaced. Nothing changes. There is no such thing. Everything just stays the same. Be gone!”

“Master, I can see how disheartened you are, but good change exists only if we will it. Change is a state of mind. You are right. Things will stay as they are if one does not act, and things may even worsen with inaction. Change is within the people. Things do not organize on their own; people have to organize them.”

CLACK! The door forcibly opens, revealing the face of the master. An old man, sporting a long frizzy white hair and beard. His long white eyebrows extend to his cheeks, and his pale skin, all wrinkled. He wears a silken robe of red and black that hides both hands and feet well. Strangely, the man looks like a living fossil from the ancient orient.

In a weak voice he says, “I have to say, I have not heard anyone your age say bizarre things. It’s refreshing to hear arguments. Boy, state your name.”

“I’m Linus Daedalus, son of Julius Daedalus, the champion from Solus. Six years of age. Leader of the Scientia group.”

“Leader of Scientia? Julius of Solus? A barbarian? Preposterous! But it would be rude not to return the courtesy. My name is Kong, a former court scholar, living in retirement.” He strokes his white beard with his hand hidden beneath his sleeve.

What a bigot! But calm down. This is normal in this age, I guess. And that name…

“Hmm… A Comprehensive History of the River Kingdom. You don’t mean, you’re that Master Kong!”

“For a barbarian’s child, I’m surprised you read the old book. Come inside. We have more to talk about.” He turns around and yells, “Lynn! Serve our guests tea.”

Lynn, the revered master’s bespectacled assistant, guides us inside. Her long silken robe of green sweeps along the polished wooden floor. She takes us deeper in the house, where an array of artefacts and fossils of the past greets us. Artemis expresses her dismay about the master’s collection of junk, but little does she know how valuable those things are – they have many stories to tell.

On the living room, Lynn allows us to be seated. She serves us warm tea.

And after having a sip, I immediately relay to the master our concern. “Master Kong, we need your help to bring Crimson down. He holds one of our companions, hostage. We have an effective method of ridding this town of the plague, Crimson, but we need a little of your assistance to guarantee victory.”

After a sip of tea, he replies “Violence only breeds more violence. I heard the same line from the devil, a long ago. Tyrants fall down only to be replaced by tyrants even worse. As the tale goes, Crimson only exists to replace the old tyrants of Exteris. The history of violence in that place goes back a long, long time. Even if you have the means to displace him, I believe the curse of that place will corrupt you. Give up and go home.”

“But I have one observation, master. Out of these tyrants in Exteris, how many of them are as knowledgeable as an earl, a count, or a duke?”

He strokes his long frizzy beard. “None… Those folks only look after their vested self-interest and will not bother fixing the problems of that accursed piece of land. They are wise to distance themselves from the trouble and corruption. The River god granted them much wisdom. Same for you, boy.”

I hit him with a rebuttal, “That’s the problem, exactly. Everyone is pessimistic. Everyone assumes that the bad comes from the people and not from the leaders. But how can one be so sure to say that the bad comes from the people and the land if not one righteous and wise leaders has stepped up to take responsibility?”

I continue, “That’s the issue, no one is concerned enough, and no one good is interested in the potential of the people. While the thug lords, being bad, I deem also wise for seeing and exploiting the potential of these people. Crimson himself has organized an army out of them. Since the people are organized and submissive to tyrants like our villain, I can conclude that the people say aren’t really ill intentioned. It is their leaders who use them for their ill dealings.

“I think that if thug lords can make use of these people, why would my group, Scientia, not benefit from their labor? Especially that I need more men, and these people could be of use. I benefit, they benefit, the society benefits from the banishment of thuggery in these parts.” After the long speech, I sip tea from my cup. And looking around, I notice bubbling spit from the mouths of my companions. Brother!

The puts down his cup and with his eyebrows knit, he says, “This theory of yours… it sounds good to the ear, but shaky. It relies on you being righteous and wise. I can’t bear to trust you enough to be that person, even if you’re the son of Julius of Solus. No man is incorruptible.” He sips tea from his cup.

“True, no man is incorruptible which is the reason I believe that each man must be his own judge. Evil comes from ignorance, which is why it should be an imperative to educate people about the knowledge and virtues of the good. Should leaders become misguided, they will benefit from the pool of opinions from a well-informed populace.”

The master massages his forehead, so I pause, but then he says “Go on my child, don’t mind me.”

With his gestures, I feel he isn’t convinced, so I add more substance to my argument. “Uhmm… with that idea in mind, let me give you an example. I started fighting ignorance in my own group, Scientia, believing that this form of good change is inevitable. True enough, after overseeing the process of educating my own people for a year, my hard work bears fruit. The village for rehabilitation of those barbaric people, you would call otherwise, is almost done.”

The master coughs, but not minding it, I push on my narrative to him.

“And as a gesture of good faith, I would only like to extend this goal to Exteris, but for that to happen, I need your help in taking the first step. I know very well and I’m familiar with the weaknesses of mine. So please, master. Let me prove myself to you.”

He rests his palm on the table; his eyebrows, tightly knit. Looking puzzled and unconvinced, he drops a bomb, “My child, you’re just a six year old. Just who do you think you are? Who are you to mess with the lives of these people?”

What?! You old coot! I have an undergraduate degree in education, major in natural sciences, a master of arts in intellectual history, and a PhD… And you? How I’d like to tell you… I’d like to explain, but will you believe it?

[Patience, Nina’s life depends on this!] I remind myself.

I calm myself down, taking a deep breath. I give him a stern look in the eye. “An unfair question. Exactly, I’m a kid as you say who happens to be smart enough to comprehend your thoughts. I don’t think it’s fair to bring the question of age, even. Compared to the scholars of the old, who do you think are you to have written a book that contains an opinion that varies from them.” His beard moves. He is secretly laughing all the time.

My hand shakes, and my voice stutters. “And, and, I’ve read your books and your thoughts combined with the knowledge of other philosophers and great men of history. For, for much of the knowledge I acquired through reading and listening, I think it would be fair to even say that your experience and those of the great men I learned from add up to mine.”

I stop my hand from shaking by slamming it on the table. BANG! “Not to brag, but I know very well my qualifications.”

He smirks and shakes his head. “Boy, I disagree. You’re not exactly your age. But you’re special. Still, I have to see more of your capabilities, not with more words, but with action. Come with me, let’s go.”

Part 3

The revered master takes us to his garden. On a bench he lets us sit, while her assistant, Lynn, puts a finely decorated cherub figurine on a stone table at the middle of the garden. Tarnished black, the figurine appears to be made of silver.

The master coughs. “This problem has baffled scholars for ages. And with your wisdom, I trust that it will be solved.”

He continues, “The late king had commissioned a craftsman to make a figurine of a cherub from three bars of pure gold. He was pleased that the craftsman, being highly skilled, was able to produce the fine figurine. But one day, the king became suspicious. He heard from one of his attendants that the cherub may not be made of pure gold.

“So the king ordered his scholars to weigh the cherub against three bars of gold. He learned that the cherub weighs exactly as the gold bars.

“But still, he was suspicious. He knew that the craftsman can cheat by mixing lesser metals with the gold to add up to the weight.

“A scholar proposed to melt the figurine into bars of gold, which would most likely reveal the impurity.

“However, the king objects to the idea. So he commissioned the scholars to find a way to test the purity of the gold in the cherub.

“It has been two centuries past since the problem emerged, but no scholar has solved the problem.

He coughs, and his lengthy white browse raised, he drops the question, “Boy, do you possess the wisdom to solve this simple problem that we scholars have failed to solve for the past two centuries?”

Woah, good heavens! If he only knew that a similar problem was solved by Archimedes from my past life, a long, long time ago.

With the newly founded confidence, I assert myself. “The solution is simple, master. However, I do not claim to own the solution. I heard of the same problem solved by a certain Archimedes of Syracuse from a far, far land continents away from the River Kingdom. Master, do you have basins available? I’d like to have two small ones and two big ones. And water. Last, bars of silver of equivalent weight, please.”

“Thank you for being honest. Hurry, I want to see the solution. Lynn!” the master yells.

Lynn is quick to get the needed materials. She places on table the basins of the size requested, a jar of water, and bars of silver of the equivalent weight.

“The king is wise to figure that different substances have different weights compared to their size in bulk. But the problem, he did not have a method to measure the volume of irregular objects. So here’s the solution.”

First, I take two small basins that are big enough to contain the figurine and bars of silver.

Second, I place each small basins inside a bigger basin.

Third, to the brim, I fill up the smaller basins with water.

Last, I drop on each water filled basins the silver figurine and the bars of silver.

As a result, water overflows from the smaller basins to the bigger basins.

“Master, we need cups to measure the amount of water spilled.”

Lynn quickly lines up a number of cups on the table. Then, I organized the cups into two groups – one for the figurine, and one for the silver bars. I fill them with the water spilled from the smaller basins.

The water spilled from the basin where the figurine is dropped fills more cups.

“As a special property, water as a fluid is incompressible; also, it takes up the space and the shape of its container. As we see here, when I dropped the objects in the small basins, the water overflowed. That happened because the objects I dropped took the space that the water occupies, displacing the incompressible water out of the basins.” The master still looking stern and unconvinced, strokes his long white frizzy beard.

Further I explain, “The amount of water that overflowed from the containers is representative of the space the object submerged occupies. You can verify that by computing the volume of the bars of silver against the volume of the water spilled from the basin where I dropped them.”

He looks at me with conceit and asks, “I see, you come up with a good method to measure the volume of that irregular object, but how does that help us tell if the figurine is impure or not?”

“I thought that’s easy to figure out, but let me further explain. You see master, substances of the same kind should have same weights compared to their size, while those of a different kind would have different weight to size ratio. We call this property of matter density. Simply put, if this figurine is made of impure silver, its volume would differ to the bars of silver we have on the other basin.

“And as we see, the basin where the figurine is dropped spilled more water. To conclude, the figurine is not made of the same substance as the bars of silver of its equivalent weight.” Basic science, even an expert in history, like myself, understands.

The master nods, rubbing his temple. The tense air diffuses, and the hostility ceases. He sighs. “So young… I have no words to explain this defeat I feel, my child. This is all but a test. I didn’t know if you were just plain rude to boast such capacity to think, but seeing this much, I’ll believe what you say from this point. So, how can this old man be of use?”

“Help me take down Crimson.”

“Linus of Solus, you are as barbaric as ever, nevertheless I trust you are as capable as you say. So allow me.” The master bows.