Creating an Industrial Empire in 19th Century Parallel World

Caroline and Poul found themselves seated next to each other inside the comfortable confines of the carriage. They were accompanied by the monotonous clattering of hooves and the occasional rattle of the carriage. Caroline was eager to break the silence, so she started a conversation.

"If our paths had not crossed today, where would you be heading?" she inquired politely.

"I would be overseeing the production of the direct current electric motors at the Pearl Street Station," Poul responded.

"For Mister Russell, I assume? I've purchased a multitude of them to power an array of machinery, ranging from pumps and compressors to fans and blowers, mixers and agitators, conveyors, cranes, hoists, and centrifuges. Your invention has allowed my company to produce a vast quantity of goods, although I prefer induction motors as they are quieter and require less maintenance. Nevertheless, it's been beneficial," Caroline divulged.

Poul chuckled. "You need not be so specific, Caroline. Rest assured, we will eventually move on to induction motors. The direct current motors serve as a necessary foundation."

"I prefer to be specific, and I eagerly anticipate the development of induction motors. Please notify me when they become available," Caroline requested.

"You have my word, Caroline. You'll be the first to know," Poul affirmed. The conversation soon faded into an awkward silence once again.

Caroline noticed the change in Poul's mood and asked, "Do you not enjoy my presence, Sir Nielsen?"

Poul was quick to deny it. "Of course not, why would you say that?"

"Because you are unusually quiet today. Did something happen?" Caroline pressed.

"Well, there was an incident that put me in a sour mood. I encountered a young lady named Fiora Whitney, from the Whitneys, who was very derogatory towards me. I confronted her, which ended up with me getting kicked out of the hotel. It seems they take hierarchy very seriously in this era," Poul explained.

Caroline frowned at the revelation. "I am sorry to hear that, Poul. Fiora can be a rather difficult person to deal with, especially when she feels slighted. However, I must remind you that speaking ill of someone from the upper echelons of society can result in severe consequences. It is crucial to exercise caution when interacting with such individuals, especially when you are a company owner, it's bad optics," she advised.

Poul inquired, "You know her? And what do you mean by that? Is my company going to be affected?"

Caroline responded, "The girl you ran into, Fiora Whitney, is one of my regulars. Her family is extremely wealthy and has investments in various industries, including railroads, shipbuilding, and textiles. They hold significant influence in Avalonia and any criticism from them may lead to a boycott by their supporters. It's possible that your company could be impacted."

Poul expressed, "I understand, but Fiora was rude to me. I don't believe our customers would stop purchasing our products, such as air brakes and locomotive draft gears, due to that particular family telling them not to."

"Sir Nielsen, I implore you not to underestimate the far-reaching influence of high society. If you desire the prosperity and advancement of your company, it would be unwise to offend their sensibilities. Instead, it is best to curry favor with them and align your interests with theirs. For they hold the key to unlocking the gates of success for your company."

Poul sat in silence, absorbing her words, his mind churning with the weight of her advice. He realized the gravity of the situation and the delicate balance of power that existed in this society. It was not just about the products or the innovations, but about navigating the social and economic landscape that could make or break a business.

"You make a valid point, Caroline. I appreciate your insight and will take it into consideration moving forward," Poul said, breaking the silence.

Caroline acknowledged his concern, and a small smile played on her lips. "The first step would be to issue a formal statement. A sincere apology, despite its simplicity, could go a long way in high-society circles," she advised.

Poul sighed heavily in response, his expression turning glum. "It's difficult to pen an apology for someone who has insulted me. What is wrong with the working class rising to the upper echelons of society by virtue of their hard work and dedication?" he wondered aloud.

Caroline raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Poul's statement. "The elite society is not merely based on wealth, Mister Nielsen. It's a system that is deeply ingrained with values, principles, and history. These people believe in the traditions and the way things have been done for centuries. To them, social class is not only a measure of wealth, but it's also a measure of education, culture, and ancestry. It's about being born into the right family, attending the right schools, and associating with the right people."

Poul frowned, "So, it's all about being born into privilege? What about the people who weren't born into the right family, or didn't have the opportunity to attend the right schools? They don't have a chance to succeed?"

Caroline sighed, "It's not fair, I know. But that's just the way things are in the world, or in this era rather. And it's not just in this country, it's a universal truth. The world is not a fair place, but we can always strive to make it a little bit better. And that's what your invention is doing, Mister Nielsen. It's making the world a little bit better, one revolutionary invention at a time. And just because you are not born into a privileged family mean you can't succeed. There are a lot of people who succeed in their own way."

"And they are the first ones who are going to use it? How ironic that the people they looked down on was the one who created comfort for them. And you are right, people can be successful in their own way," Poul let out a forced chuckle.

Caroline let out a laugh. "Well, that's the beauty of innovation, isn't it? It provides equal opportunities for everyone regardless of their social status."

Poul let out a small smile in response. "That's true. I just find it ironic that the high society who looked down on us was the first one who benefited from our inventions. But I suppose that's just how the world works."

Ten minutes later.

Poul and Caroline arrived at the grandiose entrance of Delmonico's restaurant ten minutes later. They were stopped by the wait staff at the entrance.

"I'm sorry, but Albian is not allowed to dine inside," the staff informed them.

Poul, visibly irritated by the unjust treatment, clenched his fist. However, he maintained his composure, knowing that arguing would only lead to further problems. Caroline, on the other hand, quickly intervened.

"This gentleman here is my chaperone," Caroline explained. "I'm under strict rules that require me to be accompanied by him wherever I go."

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm just following the rules," the wait staff said, holding firm.

But then, a chubby gentleman in a fine suit emerged from the store, catching Caroline's eye.

"Mister Lorenzo!" she exclaimed.

Caroline immediately recognized the man. "Mister Lorenzo!" she exclaimed.

"Lovely Miss Dupont, it is a pleasure to have you once again in our fine establishment," Lorenzo greeted her with a gallant bow, taking her hand and planting a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

"But Mister Lorenzo, isn't it against the rules?" the wait staff tried to argue.

"The rules have changed," Lorenzo announced. "Chaperones, regardless of their descent, should be allowed to enter the establishment to conduct their duty. So please, show them to a table."

"Of course, sir," the wait staff obediently complied, escorting Poul and Caroline inside the restaurant.

As they were escorted to their designated table, Poul was met with a series of disdainful glares from the diners around them. However, this time, he remained unfazed.

"Your seat, milady," the waitstaff said, offering Caroline a chair. She sat, and Poul took his place across from her.

"I now comprehend why," Caroline remarked, taking note of the attention they were receiving. "It's best not to pay them any mind."

"Lady Caroline, I am certain you have a matter you wish to discuss with me. Shall we address it before we begin our meal?" Poul suggested.

"Quite right, Mr. Nielsen. In that case, I shall disclose the issue at hand. Amelia informed me that you accepted General Sherman's seven million dollar offer," Caroline began.

"Yes, and what of it?" Poul inquired.

"I was curious as to what kind of weapon it would be," Caroline queried.

"It is a weapon that has seen the bloodiest and most destructive war in history: an M1 Garand," Poul divulged.

"A Garand? You are quick to divulge information regarding the weapon you and your partner intend to introduce. Why is that?" Caroline probed.

"Because we require your assistance. Jonathan sent me a letter suggesting that I ask for your professional consultation regarding the smokeless powder," Poul explained.

"Smokeless powder is already available in this world. Why not purchase it from existing companies?" Caroline inquired.

"Because it has flaws, such as its instability, sensitivity to temperature and humidity, and an inconsistent burn rate. Jonathan believes that you can remedy these issues, and I concur," Poul stated.

Caroline's face lit up with a smile, her cheeks tinted with a subtle blush. "Fortunately for you, I am well-versed in smokeless powder and can fix these flaws. However, on one condition."

"What is it?" Poul asked.

"I wish to become a part of your future ventures. To do so, I will invest. I cannot simply allow Morgan to have all the fun," Caroline proposed.

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