Creating an Industrial Empire in 19th Century Parallel World

At Fifth Avenue and 34th Street, New York, the young industrialist duo arrived at the main entrance to the Astoria Hotel.

The coachman jumped out from his seat and opened the door for the two young duos. Poul stepped out first before Jonathan. And once they set foot on the ground, they gaze up to see the full structure of the hotel.  The building features a German renaissance style architecture. A height of 82 meters with sixteen stories. The building gave the two a nostalgic feeling as if they were taken back to the nineteenth century. Oh wait, they were literally taken back to the nineteenth century. The only difference is that it is different from the world they originally belonged to.

"We should probably get inside, I don't want to get myself wet more than this," Jonathan said, looking at his slightly wetted suit.

It was raining heavily earlier but now it is just a drizzle.

"Are they going to receive us? Morgan didn't give us any bookings other than train and ferry tickets," John said, looking at Jonathan expectantly. He is the one who talked to Morgan so he should have answered his question.

Jonathan sighed as he shook his head. "Unfortunately, they only gave us train and ferry tickets. But Morgan said that he already reserved a room for us and that we should only tell the receptionist our name and provide documentation to prove it."

Poul looked at his briefcase. His documentation is inside it. He cleared his throat and then spoke. "Let's go."

The young industrialist duo walked forward and headed to the main entrance. The doorman opened the door for them with a bow, indicating their entrance into the luxurious lobby of the Astoria Hotel. White marble tiles lined the floor and reflected the light of a series of elegant gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Men and women, far more elegantly dressed than the two of them, strolled in and out of the lobby. All of them wore light overcoats while others had on expensive gowns, enough to make the two of them feel as though they were in a completely different world as they stepped inside.

"So this is New York huh?" Poul remarked. "Where the rich gathered and lived."

"Not only that, if you were observant earlier, you'll see opulent mansions along fifth avenue street."

"This vibe I'm getting here, it feels like we don't belong here. We belong to our house, which is just a two-story building structure," Poul commented as he looked around again at his surroundings. There he noticed the men and women giving him the inquisitive look. They whispered to one another as their gazes were fixed on him.

Poul clicked his tongue. "It must have been a shock for them to see a white-haired handsome man entering the most expensive hotel in New York."

"They are questioning how you were able to get in here," Jonathan leaned to his right as he whispered. "Maybe, they thought you were a pauper."

"Just because I have silver hair means I'm penniless. What if I told them that I own a company with a current forty-five million valuation? And that I have way more money than them? Is the way they look at me change?"

"First off, they'll be shocked that you even have a company. And much more from having way more money than them. So, I think they are not going to receive you well. Oh, there are two distinct communities here in New York. The old and the new."

"Old and new?"

"The old are the people that lived in New York before the revolution. The new are the ones who recently moved up to New York, which consisted of a monied elite, primarily the industrialist. The Rockefellers, Morgan, Carnegie, and Wanderbilt."

"How did you do all that?" Poul asked.

"I inquired," Jonathan simply replied before heading to the reception desk. Poul followed behind.

"Good day to you sir, how may I help you?" The male receptionist greeted him pleasingly.

"There is a reservation made here by John Morgan for us. My name is Jonathan Axelsen and the man behind me is Poul Nielsen. Perhaps you can confirm that in your records?"

The receptionist glanced at Poul in a rather strange way, then turned to the records he was holding in his hand, searching their names on the list.

"Ahh…I found it. John Morgan booked a luxurious suite for Jonathan Axelsen and Poul Nielsen. Now I'll only have to confirm your identity and have a Bell person escort you to your room."

Poul and Jonathan opened their briefcase and grabbed the papers. They handed it to the receptionist for him to peruse.

"Poul Nielsen. Originally from Columbus, Ohio now moved to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. A founder of the Axelsen and Nielsen Air Brake Company and the Axelsen and Nielsen Union Switch and Signal Company."

"Uhm…yes that's me. Do you usually read a person's identification out loud or is it just me?"

"I apologize, sir, I'm just checking your credentials."

"Oh well, now you have seen my name written on it with a city seal. So are you going to have us escorted to our room or not?"

"Easy…Poul," Jonathan chimed in, trying to diffuse the situation before anything got ugly.

"Look, we had a tiring and exhausting trip from Pittsburgh to New York, and we would like to get some rest."

"I apologize, Sir," the receptionist said, still in the same pleasant tone of voice. "I have confirmed your identifications, and may now proceed."

The receptionist grabbed the call bell resting on his desk and shook it to get the attention of a specific individual, the bellman.

The bellman approached the reception desk.

"Please escort these two gentlemen to their rooms on floor seven room in room seven five two."

The bellman nodded his head and extended his hand out to the hallway, leading them in.

"Thank you and have a wonderful stay in the Astoria Hotel. Your luggage will be delivered to your room shortly," the receptionist said.

The bellman led them to the elevator hall. With just a glance, Poul can tell that the elevators are powered by a steam-powered hoisting engine underneath the floor. It must be the case as electric elevators are not yet introduced because electric motors are far from being ready in this world.

There, an elevator operator opened the door of the elevator and they stepped inside. Poul and Jonathan glanced at the usual place for buttons where you can push a number and the elevator automatically gets a person there. However, this is a nineteenth-century style elevator. So instead of buttons, there is a lever that the elevator operator moves to control the speed.

Jonathan leaned over to the side and whispered. "This is one of the many reasons why there are no high-rise buildings yet in this world."

Poul nodded, agreeing to his statement. The steam-powered hoisting engine is a huge engine that can take up the space of a whole floor. Its power is directly proportional to the size so if one were to carry passengers from the ground floor to one hundred floors. The elevator would need bigger engines. That is expensive and not cost-effective to build. But that problem can be solved by using another type of propulsion, electricity.

"Seventh floor," the elevator operator said, stopping the elevator. He opened the door and the three exited.

The bellman led them to their room and once they got there, he inserted a key into the door knob and pushed it open. He gestured for them to enter.

The two men entered the room.

"If you have any questions, please press a button located there. It'll notify the reception and call you immediately," the bellman said before leaving.

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