CHAPTER 22 #2
“Why?” she whispered, making her way through the damp gloom of the darkened scullery, even though she had long ago learned the answer. For some people, lust—for money, for power, for control—was never satiated.
The thought stirred a pebbling of gooseflesh on her flesh. Another reminder of how dangerous an enemy they were facing.
As she slipped out into the corridor, a glimmer of light up ahead helped banish her brooding.
The clack-clack of the machine grew louder as she entered the room.
The professor was turning the hand crank, setting off a wink of gold sparks from the spinning gears and rotating brass rods.
Cordelia was sitting beside him, working furiously with pencil and paper, while Raven watched the proceeding over her shoulder.
With all the noise, they didn’t hear her come in. Harper, however, awoke from his slumber and woofed a friendly greeting. He no longer looked quite so intimidating. Perhaps that was because Hawk was curled up against the hound’s middle, head pillowed on his shoulder.
The boy sat up and yawned. “Mathematics is boring,” he confided as Charlotte crouched down to give him a hug.
“Not as boring or filthy as mouse skulls!” called his brother.
That didn’t appear to be entirely true. Raven’s shirtfront was smeared with oil and grease.
Charlotte held up a parcel. “I brought a batch of McClellan’s ginger biscuits for refreshments.”
Cordelia waggled her finger as she continued to write. “One moment . . .” The rods clack-clacked through another cycle and then came to rest. The professor read off a final sequence of numbers from a set of ivory wheels.
“Excellent.” Cordelia then looked up. “I’m famished. Biscuits would be very welcome. Let’s also order some tea and take a brief respite from work.”
The boys helped her clear the piles of paper from a round table at the far end of the room, and they all took their seats as one of the kitchen maids carried in a massive tray with the steaming pot and a cold collation of meats, cheese, and bread to supplement the biscuits.
“I’ve a question, Professor,” said Raven after noisily gobbling down several of the sweets.
“Yes?” replied Sudler.
“You’ve mentioned that your Computing Engine will be key in creating tables, but what are tables for?” replied Raven. “And why do you need a machine when you and Lady Cordelia do mathematics so easily in your head?”
A grin quivered on Cordelia’s lips. “I trust you’re ready for a rather long lecture.”
Charlotte had been wondering much the same thing. “I, too, am interested in hearing the explanation.”
In answer, Sudler rose and fetched a book from one of the worktables pushed up against the wall.
With everyone momentarily distracted, Hawk quietly filched a piece of ham from the platter and slid off his seat to join Harper.
Charlotte pretended not to notice.
Clearing his throat, the professor shifted the tray and slapped the book down on the center of the table, then opened it to display two facing pages.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“Numbers,” murmured Charlotte dryly. “A lot of them.”
“It’s a table,” corrected Cordelia. “And while most people haven’t a clue as to the importance of mathematical tables—that is, logarithm tables—without them, a number of our fundamental institutions of society, like finance, insurance, and the military, couldn’t function.”
Raven took a closer look at the pages. “How so?”
“This book is compilation of tables made for banks. They are constantly lending money and must calculate the interest rates over various periods of time,” explained Sudler.
“A task made even more complicated when they have to compound the interest. To work out the numbers every time they make a loan would require countless hours of work. So standard tables have been created over the years. Say the interest rate is two percent a year, and a banker is making a loan for five years. Well, he can find the table for two percent . . .” The professor tapped a finger on the table displayed on the open pages.
“Then scroll down to find the line showing five years and read off the correct amount of interest to charge his client.”
“The military depends on tables for ballistics. Artillery officers use logarithm tables to calculate the variables for distance and trajectory, which allows them to hit their targets,” added Cordelia.
“The country couldn’t finance itself without issuing government bonds.
And all those complicated computations couldn’t be done without logarithm tables. ”
“But . . .” Raven’s face scrunched in thought. “”But if you already have them, why—”
“Ah! An excellent question, young man!” exclaimed Sudler. “It’s because every printed table I’ve checked is riddled—riddled—with mistakes!”
“Human error,” murmured Cordelia.
“Quite right!” The professor bounced in his chair, his voice growing more animated. “And the mistakes get compounded because the tables are calculated through polynomial functions that require several steps of precise calculation—”
“Polynomial functions?” interrupted Charlotte in bewilderment.
“What that means is that there are complicated formulas that require several steps to reach a final answer,” explained Cordelia.
“You do one calculation, then use the result to perform another calculation. When they are done by hand, there is a lot of room for error. Whereas a Computing Engine . . .” A smile.
“The professor has been working on the concept for years. Together we’ve been striving to find a mechanical design that will be able to perform such complicated mathematics. ”
“And?” prompted Charlotte, fascinated in spite of herself.
“And this present model . . .” Sudler cast a fond look at the massive brass and steel contraption bathed in the glow of the bright lamps.
“Is able to run simple calculations with absolute accuracy! Once I figure out a way to store the results of the first calculation, then shift them to a new set of rods and run the second set of calculations . . .” A look of transcendent joy came over his face.
“Then I can envision creating a series of punch cards, like they use in Jacquard looms, to run a program by itself.”
“That is theoretical, and years away from reality,” said Cordelia softly. “If ever.”
“Yes, but a man can dream!”
“Why, sir . . .” Raven sucked in his breath. “Such a machine could revolutionize the world.”
“Indeed, indeed.” The professor flashed a smile that mingled regret and hope. “I won’t live to see it built. It will require young men like you to pick up the torch of knowledge and carry it forward.”
A pensive silence settled over the table.
Raven turned to contemplate the Computing Engine. “You know,” he mused after several moments, “it might be able to run even faster if a small steam engine were to power the hand crank.”
“What a splendid idea! Come, let us have a look at how that might be done.”
“Professor.” Cordelia’s voice held a note of gentle chiding. “Much as it’s a good idea for the future, we need to complete our nightly calculations. I must deliver another sample table by the end of the week to the consortium.”
Sudler’s face darkened. “Knaves and scoundrels! Mark my words! They mean to use the Engine’s power for their own selfish plans, rather than use it to better the world for all.”
“And we intend to stop them,” countered Cordelia. “But for the time being, we must appear to be cooperating.”
Grumbling under his breath, Sudler stalked over to the Engine. “Come help me set the numbered wheels for the next calculations, lad.”
Charlotte began to gather the empty teacups and return them to the tray. Cordelia lingered to help.
“Have you figured out why the consortium wants the sample mathematical tables they’ve demanded from you?” Charlotte asked.
“No,” answered her friend. A hesitation. “That is, I have an idea, but I wish to consult with a friend before coming to any conclusions.”
Charlotte was about to respond when the sound of approaching footsteps drew a low woof from Harper.
Her heart leapt into her throat. Was it the earl coming with some new information that might bring them closer to unmasking the enemy? After dropping the cups with a clatter, she turned to the door.
“Where’s Wrexford?” demanded Sheffield after a quick look around.
“He left several hours ago,” volunteered Hawk. “And hasn’t returned.”
“And Tyler?”
“He’s out, as well,” called Raven. “We don’t know where.”
“What is it?” asked Charlotte, trying to read Sheffield’s face through the pearls of rain dripping from his hat brim. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered. “But I took it upon myself to do a little sleuthing earlier today and have discovered something that just isn’t adding up right.”