The Howlett Machinery Experimental Factory stood as an enigma in the industrial landscape of Brooklyn. Established nearly seven years ago, the factory boasted cutting-edge technology, sprawling land, and state-of-the-art facilities. Yet, for all its grandeur, it had never released a single product to the market.
The Howlett family name carried weight across North America, spanning industries from raw mineral extraction to metallurgy, machinery production, and even military contracts. Despite this extensive industrial empire, this particular factory—arguably the most advanced of them all—remained an enigma, its true purpose known to only a select few.
Security was notoriously strict. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter day and night, ensuring that no unauthorized personnel could gain access. Mr. James Howlett, the enigmatic head of the Howlett family, spent the majority of his time here whenever he was in North America. It was clear that something of great significance was happening within these walls.
Inside the factory, the scent of oil and metal mingled in the air. A towering assembly of gears, pistons, and mechanical components dominated the room. At the heart of it stood James, his sharp eyes studying a complex contraption while addressing a black-haired man with a high-bridged nose, his features unmistakably European.
The Engine of the Future
"So, you're saying this is a success? The reciprocating piston mechanism you mentioned?" James asked, his voice carrying a note of expectation. He placed a gloved hand on the massive machine, fingers tracing its polished metal surface.
The engineer, a German by the name of Otto, nodded hesitantly. His English was thick with a German accent, and he spoke with an occasional stutter, though his enthusiasm was evident.
"Y-yes, Mr. Howlett. It is… a success. But the fuel you mentioned—gasoline—it is still in early theoretical stages. The combustion process has only recently been perfected in studies. No machine is yet built to properly utilize it."
James' expression darkened slightly, though he did not voice his disappointment. He had hoped the leap to gasoline engines would happen sooner. Sensing his employer's reaction, Otto hastily added, "But, sir! This is the first internal combustion engine to successfully complete a double-piston cycle. It currently operates on gas and produces 4.4 horsepower. It runs smoothly, and as of now, it boasts the highest power output and thermal efficiency we have seen!"
James' eyes flickered with interest. He remained silent for a moment before offering a few words of encouragement.
Otto, eager to prove his worth, straightened up and continued, his confidence growing. "I must also express my deepest gratitude, sir. Without the resources and financial support you have provided these past two years, this breakthrough would have been delayed by at least a decade—perhaps more!"
James allowed himself a small smile. "Mr. Otto, there's no need for modesty. This achievement is the result of your hard work and the dedication of every engineer in this facility. However, this is just the beginning. In the future, I want you to prioritize research on gasoline-powered engines. That is where the future lies."
Otto nodded fervently. "Yes, sir! I will ensure that we explore every possible application of gasoline!"
A Factory Unlike Any Other
James had long known that technological progress was the true currency of power. When the factory was still under construction, he had personally sent representatives to Europe, seeking out the brightest minds in Britain, Germany, and France. These engineers and scientists were lured to America with lucrative contracts and promises of unrestricted research funding.
Convincing them to leave their homelands had not been easy. Europe and the United States were embroiled in fierce economic disputes, with trade tariffs fueling tensions. Meanwhile, America itself was on the precipice of civil strife. At the time, few saw the U.S. as a hub for technological innovation.
Most European engineers arrived in New York merely intending to evaluate their opportunities, expecting to collect some quick money before returning home. But once they saw the Howlett Factory—equipped with the finest machinery, materials, and research facilities—they quickly reconsidered. The ones who were hesitant found themselves gently persuaded by James, who arranged for their families to be brought over as well.
Thus, what had begun as a temporary venture soon became a permanent home for some of Europe's greatest mechanical minds.
Among them, Otto had proven himself to be one of the most brilliant and dedicated. He genuinely loved working in the experimental factory, where he was free to pursue theoretical and practical research without restrictions. James occasionally provided specific directions—such as the development of new fuels or experiments involving silver-infused ammunition—but for the most part, the engineers were given unparalleled creative freedom.
James knew that he alone could not accelerate technological advancements, but with the right people and the right investments, he could change the course of history.
Fortunately, the vast wealth of the Howlett family meant that his ambition knew no financial limits.
A Persistent Visitor
At that moment, a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Master, Mr. Vernon has been waiting outside for over two hours."
The speaker was Tom Wedell, a long-time confidant of James and now a key figure in the Howlett industrial empire. Unlike before, when he was merely a factory owner in Canada, Tom now handled foreign business affairs for the family.
"Vernon?" James raised an eyebrow, trying to recall the name. "Ah, the Frenchman who helped us construct the factory a few years back. What does he want?"
Tom smoothed out his silk pocket square, ever the picture of a refined businessman. "It seems he hopes to join our new construction project in the South."
James nodded in understanding. With a quick signal to his secretary, he ordered the security team to escort Vernon inside.
A short while later, Herbert Vernon—a rotund man with a broad smile—rushed forward, moving with surprising speed for his size. "Mr. Howlett! A pleasure to see you again!" he declared enthusiastically, shaking James' hand.
James offered a polite smile. "Mr. Vernon, what brings you here?"
Vernon beamed. "Oh, I was just passing by and saw your carriage. It's been years, but you haven't aged a day!"
James chuckled. He had, in fact, worked to appear more mature in recent years, even growing a well-kept beard to counteract his youthful appearance.
After some small talk, Vernon finally revealed his true intentions. "I heard about your new construction project and was hoping to take part. However—" He hesitated before adding, "Rather than just another contract, I was hoping to invest in the Howlett business—perhaps buy a small stake?"
James' smile remained, but his eyes turned sharp. He knew this game well.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr. Vernon," he said smoothly, "but Howlett Enterprises is a family business. At this time, I have no interest in outside investors."
Seeing that James' decision was firm, Vernon could do little but nod in disappointment.
With that, James signaled that he had urgent matters to attend to, leaving Tom to handle the rest of the conversation.
An Evening with the President
The carriage took James to a high-end tailor shop on Queen Street, where O'Hara was trying on a new evening dress.
That night, they were invited to dine with the Lincolns at the White House.
President Lincoln had much to discuss with James, and the brief conversation at their last banquet had not been enough.
Standing outside the shop, James watched through the glass as O'Hara admired herself in an elegant off-white gown.
A rare, genuine smile crossed his lips.
For all the power struggles and business maneuvers, some moments in life were simply worth enjoying.
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