Jason felt drained by the time the council meeting neared its close. The town was a bustling hive of innovation, but there were complications every step of the way. Each step forward required several other steps to make them work properly. He was used to herding cats with his previous job as a project manager. Still, the complexity of the work the villagers needed to do and the lack of a standardized set of knowledge - or even language for describing chemical properties or mechanical parts - caused him no end of grief. We really need to get formal schooling set up for both adults and kids. And if we do that, I’m going to want to make sure the printing press is finished, so we’re not hand-copying books. But with the threat of invasion and our money problems, I’m limited in what I can do at once. It’s so frustrating!

The council members surrounding the table had gotten off track at some point, with Phipp talking about the secret ingredient for his sticky buns to a fascinated Samantha. Tyler and Alex discussed their predictions for how rough this year’s winter would be. Finally, Jason cleared his throat and brought their attention back to himself.

“We need to decide on what we’re going to do about the money situation before we leave this room,” Jason stated, and the rest of the council reluctantly nodded.

“It’s better to make a hard decision now than be unable to pay and have our reputation ruined,” Alex agreed. “People who suddenly can’t buy necessities get upset very fast. Things go downhill from there.”

“The only major export I can see that we have any control over right now is lumber. We could stop working on the city projects, but that would lead to a bunch of unemployed workers either going hungry or leaving for greener pastures. The stories they’d spread would make it harder to recruit in the future, too,” Jason spoke his thoughts out loud. “Exporting our lumber would hurt the builders, but that’s a much smaller impact. We’ll have to employ whoever we can in other areas temporarily.”

Jason paused his rambling and turned to the group. “How much could we earn if we exported almost all our lumber to Brighton? And would they buy it?”

“We can sell all of it,” Alex stated. “I’d recommend not selling it all to Brighton - there are quite a few smaller villages that would probably buy a wagonload. If we avoid dumping it in one place all at once, we’ll be less likely to make prices crash. The villages I’m thinking of are closer, too.”

Alex wrote down a few numbers, mumbling under his breath, “five silver per wagon… three per wagon… ten days round trip..”

Jason waited for the verdict. Finally, the answer came. “If we diverted all our lumber production, we could make about six gold per day,” Alex said.

Yes! Jason thought. That solves our problem right there!

“But we can’t move that much,” Alex dashed his newly-found hope. “It’s a ten-day round trip to Brighton in a wagon, and we’d need a dozen wagons leaving every day.”

This is starting to sound like a high-school algebra word problem, Jason thought.

Alex continued, “That means that we’d need 120 wagons out at once to maintain the export volume.”

“How many wagons do we have?”

“Not that many,” Alex asserted, but in a quieter voice admitted, “but I’m not sure of the exact numbers.”

“Find out,” Jason requested. “And spread the word that the pay will be good.” Which will entice people away from other industries, disrupting them and causing a massive ripple effect. Why can’t any of this be easy?

---

Soon the town was sending wagon after wagon carrying lumber down the road. Earna and Edvin Blackburne, Jason’s merchant team, were scrambling to make contacts in the surrounding villages interested in purchasing lumber. They had found enough nearby customers that quite a few of the wagons were making shorter trips, though they only risked going in the direction of Brighton. None of the council thought that the Silver Kingdom’s forces would be happy to encourage trade where they were the occupying force.

Jason’s trade deficit was soon down to two gold per day, extending his solvency out to a full month. The mirrors are looking promising. If I can just last until we are able to sell a few of those…

Jason learned of another unexpected effect of cutting off the house building one day when he was walking through the town. Surprised to hear the sound of hammering, Jason followed the source of the noise and was surprised to see men lifting framing into place for a new house.

Upset at the blatant disregard of his orders, he talked to the builders and learned that he was not, in fact, paying for the lumber or the construction labor. “It’s the potter that just moved here from Brighton,” the foreman explained. “Alex sold him an empty lot, and he bought the lumber and even paid our wages in advance. We didn’t think you’d mind, my lord, and this is much better than digging trenches like the other crews.”

It took him the rest of the day to fully digest the implications of that short conversation. Somehow, I thought I was the only one that could afford to pay for houses. I had to get it started, of course, and let people see what we could do with some modern construction techniques. But do I really have to control everything after that point?

From the money perspective, I’ll earn more as a landlord than if they build on their own over the long run, but it ties up so much cash, and that’s my most immediate problem.

Besides, when the crews build them to my specifications, the tenant doesn’t get the chance to customize them to their specific needs. I thought my modern knowledge would make up for the problems of a centrally-planned economy. And that probably is true, at least at first, Jason thought, though he wasn’t sure anymore.

I need to get things started and get out of the way, Jason decided. Do it right first, then pass it off to others. Or if I’m holding on to the manufacturing of the item to make some much-needed money, I should consider licensing the ability to make it to others so they can do so too. Otherwise, technology and the economy will stagnate if my ideas are the only ones available.

And I need a patent office. I can make sure I get paid for my inventions when I need to, since I’m in charge, but I want to encourage innovation and allow people to get paid for their creativity. For a limited amount of time, at least. Incentivizing innovation can quickly turn into stifling it when patent periods are too long.

Feeling better about his strategy, Jason made his way to a building recently attached to the ironworks, where the glassmaker had easy access to the existing forges and metalworkers.

The middle-aged glassmaker greeted him with a frown and a nod. Before Jason was first introduced to the man, Alex had warned him, “he may look upset, but that’s just his face. Perpetually dour is how I’d describe it.”

When Jason finally met him, Alex said, “My lord, I’d like for you to meet Glad, our new glassmaker,” and it took the surprised lord every ounce of willpower to keep from bursting out laughing at the incongruous name.

As he had the first time they met, Jason gave the man a wide smile. “What do you have to show me today, Glad?”

The man handed him a glass disk about as large as a plate and asked, “What do you think?”

The metal-coated side was facing up. Jason turned it over and looked at the man staring back at him. I haven’t seen my face since the simulation started, he thought. I do look good with a beard.

“This is very good, Glad. It looks like there’s only a little distortion in the center. And the silver coating seems quite smooth.” He turned it over a few times, then looked up, a gleam in his eye. “I think you did it!”

The excited lord carefully walked the round disk over to where Otto stood by a workbench, looking down the length of a gun, Glad trailing behind him.

“Otto!” Jason called.

The man turned to look at him.

Jason showed him the new mirror. “How fast can you make me brackets to hang this on a wall?” Jason asked, then added in a stern voice, “without breaking it?”

“Not more than a day or two,” Otto said absentmindedly as he looked at his reflection. “By the way, I finished the prototype you wanted me to work on. The one you called a flintlock.”

---

One of the scouts Tyler had sent out after the last battle walked into town at the same time Jason was discussing mirrors with the blacksmith. He made his way to the barracks and learned from an off-duty soldier that Tyler had taken a few of the men to do individualized training in a field outside of town. He ignored his grumbling stomach to hurry over and pass on what he had learned.

He found Tyler sparring against two of the soldiers using weighted sticks in place of swords, with a third man sitting on the ground gasping for breath. The man on the left darted toward Tyler, only to meet his practice sword and a swift shove rearward. The one on the right tried to take advantage of his boss’ distraction, only Tyler to deflect his stab to the side. Off-balance, the man was unable to cover his torso before Tyler poked him in the gut. The victorious leader looked at the scout approaching them, and smiled, his light breathing a contrast to the wheezing gasps of the rest. “You will learn, men. You’re better today than you were last week. Talk amongst yourselves about what you can improve while I go have a chat.”

He walked to meet the approaching scout. They exchanged pleasantries before they got to the news Tyler wanted to hear. “I talked to locals in both of the nearest towns. They’re not happy with the Silver Kingdom’s occupation. The soldiers are a huge drain on the villages’ resources, and don’t deign to pay for what they break or destroy.”

“What did they think of the offer?” Tyler asked.

“I believe they would rather stay unaffiliated, sir, but they believe what you instructed me to relay would be preferable to their current situation. The enemy has certainly overstayed their welcome.”

Tyler nodded, unsurprised. I wonder if our lord would like to become a king?