Gareth was faster than expected. He came back with everything, water, fruit extracts, charcoal powder, metallic dusts, beeswax and the trickiest part, a glass tube with a reservoir. Explaining that part to him felt like teaching trigonometry to chickens. Well, chickens taught by Mnex. One of them might've ended up a renowned mathematician. Thankfully, Mnex took over for a moment, grabbed a scrap of paper, and drew the design for him. My hand moved without my input, like I was a master glassblower or some kind of mage. The drawing showed a curved tube, a small bulb at the base, and a narrowing tip at the top. Next to it, a simple note appeared: "Thin, hollow, one piece. Tip can be sealed."
Gareth studied the drawing. "Hmm... I've seen something like this in the glass workshop."
I didn't thank him. Mnex still had control of my hand.
Then came the waiting. No one disturbed me not my father, not my grandfather, not even by accident. Gareth returned before evening with everything I needed. The materials looked fine. I paid special attention to where the reservoir met the tube, that joint had to be solid. Just as I was about to kick Gareth and Isolde out of the room, I got a surprise.
"By order of Count Godfrey, I'll do whatever needs doing. Just tell me what to do, young lord," Gareth said confidently, though his eyes betrayed the truth.
Okay, Tommy. Calm down. We're making a thermometer, not running a pub war.
Also I had never built a thermometer before. The closest I'd come to heat related science was… boiling water.
"And you spilled it. Twice. Now repeat what I say and let Gareth handle the rest. Better than arguing. If chickens had hands, they'd be able to do this under my guidance."
If this worked on the first try, I'd start suspecting I was the chosen one.
We started with instructions. First, we crushed the blackberries and mixed them with a little water. No strainer, so Isolde brought a sheet and a bucket. She was good at this kind of thing thankfully. We soon had our colored liquid.
Then Mnex took over.
"Hold the tube straight, Gareth. Not like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, you cursed amateur."
"Now pour the water. No, not to the brim, Gareth."
"A bit of colorant, yes, purely for artistic purposes. Any more and you'll have fruity hot juice, not a thermometer."
"Seal the tip with beeswax. Not too tight, not too loose. Just like... forget it. Just do it."
"Check now. If bubbles rise, you've failed. If there's a leak in the wax, congratulations you've written the manual on failure."
"Wrap the tube with some cloth. Too tight and it cracks. Too loose and you'll rediscover gravity."
"Now apply heat. From the bottom, not the middle. No, the bottom isn't the waxed part."
"Now observe. If the liquid rises, success. If it jiggles around like it's dancing, congratulations your first bubble tea."
And for a moment… I saw it. The liquid rose.
Then the tube exploded.
Failure.
"HOW MANY IQ POINTS DOES IT TAKE TO BLOW UP A THERMOMETER? Am I too smart, or are you just this... this... never mind. I'm resetting. Do we have another tube?"
"Gareth, how many did you bring?"
"They only had one, but I ordered more. They'll be ready tomorrow," he mumbled.
"It's alright, Gareth. I wasn't expecting to succeed on the first try."
"You weren't what? Never mind. We'll try again tomorrow," Mnex grumbled.
Someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of their motherboard.
And so, the first test day ended in glorious defeat.
After Isolde cleaned the mess, I told them I needed rest and handed control over to Mnex.
He had some night projects to begin.
By morning, Isolde returned. Gareth had gone straight to the glass workshop, and Robin had already left to rejoin his family. We hadn't spent much time together, but he was a good kid.
I barely knew Robin, but my brain had already storyboarded our opening theme. Sword fights, freeze frames, one of us dramatically bleeding in Episode 12.
I'd already started imagining us as one of those anime duos maybe the classic hero and sidekick. Batman and Robin.
I gave Isolde the finished schematics Mnex had drawn overnight for the soap workshop and asked her to deliver them to Raymond.
Before long, Gareth came back with a whole box of glass tubes, and we picked up where we left off. This time, we double checked everything. Twice. We carefully heated the tube over a candle. The liquid moved... and then...
Crack.
Another broken tube.
"Ah," Mnex cut in. "This time, the problem isn't your tiny brains. That's... shocking. The issue is the liquid. We need something more volatile."
Like what?
Hmm... Mercury? That's what thermometers use, right?
"We could do that too. We'll dig cinnabar, melt it, inhale some delightful poison, and maybe just maybe gain a superpower before dying.
Oh no, let's absolutely invite OSHA to this timeline. I'm sure they'll be thrilled."
...Okay, so maybe not mercury.
"Of course. Next time suggest dragon blood or bottled lightning while you're at it. Stick to the theme. What we need is ethanol."
Ethanol? That sounds... dangerous.
"Your father should have cellars. Go. See what alcohols your noble bloodline is hiding."
When I told Gareth and Isolde we needed alcohol, they both raised an eyebrow. As if I'd just revealed a lifelong dream of becoming a toddler alcoholic.
Thankfully, it didn't take long for them to realize it was for the project.
We went down to the cellar. A few bubbling barrels caught my eye. I suddenly wished the next fifteen years would just hurry up already.
"What's behind that door?"
"Ah, that's your father's private stash, young lord..."
"Open it. What we need isn't out here."
"But..."
"He'll understand. Probably. We're doing this to help people, remember?"
Gareth hesitated, then unlocked the door.
"Yes, steal from your father. Excellent. I adore morally gray innovation," Mnex muttered.
I wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or proud. Probably both.
After a bit of digging, we found something Mnex approved of. The stash wasn't even that impressive. I could probably make better stuff myself one day once I wasn't living in a glorified medieval tutorial zone.
Anyway. Back to the point: Mead.
"We need to distill this," Mnex began. "If we can get ethanol to around 40–50%, that'll work. Now listen closely, because Isolde's probably more useful than Gareth for this part. First, we heat the mead. Then we catch the vapor. Cool it. Collect it. Easy."
Right. Easy.
He went on to explain that we had to heat the mead in a pot over medium heat, whatever that meant in a world without knobs. Then we had to seal the lid, except for one hole where we'd insert a small tube. That tube had to pass through a container filled with water. The drops coming out the other end would be our ethanol.
Simple in theory. A headache in practice.
Isolde found the pot. Isolde found the tube. Gareth drilled a hole in the lid. Gareth brought the water filled container. Isolde lit the fire and managed the heat. Gareth fed the tube through the water.
And me?
I watched. Like a useless team leader with no actual skills.
If I ever build a lab, she's getting the corner office. Gareth can have the broom closet.
But it worked. Slowly, the first drops began to fall.
By late afternoon, we had enough ethanol.
Time to return to our glorious "Hot or Not Stick."
We filled a fresh glass tube with ethanol, added blackberry colorant, sealed it with beeswax, and got ready to test it again.
We held it over the fire.
At first, everything looked fine.
Then… nothing.
The blackberry colorant had settled at the bottom. No rise, no movement. Just a sad little layer of purple sludge.
Mnex declared we'd added too much colorant.
We tried again, this time with just a few drops.
The ethanol and colorant mixed properly. No leaks. No bubbles. Everything held.
We held the tube over the fire once more.
This time, the liquid rose.
Gareth and Isolde lit up like we'd just invented magic itself.
Gareth looked like he'd just witnessed a miracle. I, meanwhile, briefly considered applying to the Academy of Scientific Arts and Explosions.
"Basic science," Mnex muttered.
"Yeah science, bitc..."
Isolde blinked.
"...what?"
"Nothing. That reference hasn't aired yet."
It was already evening, and even though I hadn't done much, my tiny body was running on fumes. I told Gareth and Isolde we'd begin a new project tomorrow, then returned to my room.
As I slept, Mnex took control again this time for the sewer schematics.
But the next morning… it wasn't quite the fresh start we'd hoped for.
"Congratulations," Mnex said dryly. "You've invented penicillin. Too bad it smells like death and can't measure temperature."
Inside the tube from last night was a blob of purple fungal growth.
It pulsed. I don't care what Mnex says, it blinked at me.
Note to self: do not accidentally invent life. Again.
And I swear it moved.
We decided to purify the ethanol further. Under Mnex's guidance, the process took nearly the whole day.
By afternoon, we were ready to try again.
Blackberries were out. Charcoal powder was in.
"Primitive. Burned. Predictable. I love it," Mnex said. "Also, add a few drops of vinegar."
And by day's end, the Hot or Not Stick was finally ready for use.
Mission moderately accomplished.
Which, by my current standards, was basically a Nobel Prize.
Somewhere out there, an actual scientist probably just sneezed in rage.