In the morning, Rip left the guest cottage in Blair’s spacious courtyard, locking it with his picks out of habit. He crossed over to the backdoor to her townhome, unlocking it in the same way.

He took a quick look at his stats through his implant, which continued working in this world. The screen popped up in his mind’s eye.

[You are a Tier 2.78 Battle Rogue Technologist.]

[Nobility Achieved. Level: Knight]

[Skill: Unbreakable Will, 1.13]

[Skill: Detect Traps, 1.12]

[Skill: Vampiric Speed (Boon), 1.27]

[Skill: Transporter (Combo), 1.30]

[Skill: Night Vision (Boon), 1.35]

[Skill: Disarm Traps, 1.45]

[Skill: Lock Picking, 1.54]

[Skill: Mechanical Discernment, 1.55]

[Skill: Stealth, 1.57]

[Skill: Weaponry, 2.32]

[Skill: General Combat, 2.49]

After looking things over, he felt a little disappointed. His gains had come mostly in [Lock Picking]. By tackling almost every lock he came to lately, he had raised the skill by four points in recent days. But the law of diminishing returns had set in, and it was taking him more and more tries to gain a point.

His other gains were also in skills he could use while not fighting. He had gained in [Night Vision], again by using it at every opportunity. He had also picked up two points each in [Vampiric Speed] and [Mechanical Discernment], and one in [Stealth] and [Unbreakable Will].

The last two were the most recent gains, appearing earlier this morning. He woke up with a brainy idea about how to jog through the neighborhood without causing alarm.

Previously, the police had been called when Rip had been spotted jogging, especially in fog or foul weather, which seemed to occur frequently in the city.

No one jogged in this world, at least not on urban streets. Everyone perceived it as nefarious. A person did not run unless they were up to no good.

This morning, after donning appropriate attire, he activated [Stealth] before leaving the courtyard, and jogged his regular route.

No one saw him. He even ran by a couple of policeman on a street corner, and the officers never looked up.

Feeling pretty good about himself, when he came in for a bath, he noticed [Unbreakable Will] had notched up another point as well.

Idly, he wondered if he could start building other skills during his morning jog as well. Perhaps, since he had found a way to do it in public unnoticed, he could activate [Vampiric Speed] a few times and work that one up, too.

Nancy, the maid, met him at the breakfast table and immediately set down a pitcher of coffee along with a cup. He thanked her and poured it himself. The maid frowned at this self-serving attitude, but had long grown used to his commoner ways, despite his relatively new title.

She had given up on fussing at him for doing things like that.

Blair walked in, yawning but dressed for the day. Nancy set out a tea service for her, pouring her a cup, then brought in a breakfast of pancakes and sausages for both of them.

“Today we need to visit Father. He wants you to address people that work for him, about how materials from your world can be developed in ours.”

Rip nodded. “I read his letters. I’ve thought of a few things to say.”

Once again, Rip marveled at the Greater Umbrian postal system. The mail came at least five times a day. It worked almost as efficiently as email, if you didn’t mind waiting a couple hours between replies.

Which, now that he thought of it, was not all that unusual with email, either.

“I think Father looks at you as the son he never had,” Blair said with a wry smile. “He genuinely likes you, you know. And that’s saying something.”

Rip finished his cup of coffee and poured himself another. He ignored Nancy’s glare, as she dawdled nearby, listening to their conversation.

“I think he’s still upset with our living arrangements.”

“I’ve been telling him to kick sod most of my life. And after that airship attack on my home, I feel much safer having you here. Nancy does, too”

Rip smiled and dropped it. He had more than enough money now to buy his own townhome, or even a fine country manor. But Blair did not want him leaving.

And truth to tell, he did not particularly want to leave, either. He rather enjoyed having these moments with her. Even with Nancy openly eavesdropping.

Half an hour later, they walked out the front gate and strolled down the sidewalk looking for a cabbie. One stopped, and they gave him an address in an industrial part of town. They climbed in and leaned back for a long ride. At an intersection, Rip bought a copy of the Standard Trumpet’s morning edition.

When they finally arrived at a factory and office complex on the edge of the city, they walked in and headed straight for Sir Winston Brooke’s office.

“Ah, there you are!” the older Brooke said when they opened the door.

Tall, gray-haired, and with a gray handlebar mustache reaching out prodigiously on both sides of his face, the elder Brooke wore a tweed jacket with patches at the elbows.

Rip thought he might could pass for a college professor, if not one of the most successful industrialists in the empire.

“I’ve several people for you to meet this morning. They are all waiting in conference.”

Without a further word, Sir Winston walked past them and out into the hallway.

Blair smiled at Rip as if to say, “What can you do?”

They followed her father. He led them to a large open room, with several junior staffers running around pouring tea for two dozen older gentlemen. Everyone turned to the door when they walked in.

“My good fellows, welcome. You all know my daughter, Blair. And here is our celebrated otherworlder, Sir Ripley Coulter. I have asked him to share a few words with you in regards to the industrialization of our world, so that we may have some hints as how to do it. Sir Coulter, a few words, if you please. Everyone give him your undivided attention.”

The men dutifully found a chair, and all sat down except for Rip. He frowned, finding himself once again in a public speaking role. But at least he felt a little prepared for this.

He cleared his throat and began.

“So, there are four fundamental building blocks comprising my world. These are cement, steel, plastics and the synthesization of ammonia. Cement and steel you have already. In fact, should you obtain the superior rustproof steel of Remulan origin, you will be far ahead of my world, in that regard. Plastics and the synthesis of ammonia are the two you have not yet unlocked.”

Everyone listened intently, hanging on his words.

“Plastics are the larger name for synthetic materials derived from petroleum products. This can be used to create practically anything. In my world, plastics are used to make carpets, clothing, car parts and countless other items. More versatile than wood or metal, and lighter, it is irreplaceable in many ways. One of their most important functions is in the use of medical equipment. Literally, from a person’s birth to their death, plastics touch all parts of their lives, and it is one of the most important building blocks of my world’s civilization.”

He paused and accepted a cup of tea from one of the staffers walking by with a tray. He took a quick sip.

“Last but not least, when you figure out how to synthesize ammonia you’ll unlock nitrogen fertilizers, resulting in an enormous expansion of crop yields by a magnitude of a hundred percent over organic fertilizer. These man-made fertilizers will help feed the coming population explosions in the decades ahead. My world is approaching ten billion people, all living without mass starvation unless war or dictators impose it upon a particular group.”

Gasps went up around the room as those in attendance gazed at him with varying degrees of incredulity.

Someone murmured, “Ten billion?”

Rip heard shouting outside the room, and he turned to look at the door.

Someone kicked it open and three men ran inside, carrying guns.

The first one stopped and yelled, “Long live the Luddites!”

He opened fire, spraying bullets at Rip and everyone else.