Chapter Fifty-One (Patreon)

Alexander watched carefully through his binoculars as the gunboat sped across the waves. Little more than a boiler and a handful of guns thrown aboard a steel hull, it made twelve knots as it reached battle speed, the junior officer leading his new command through the obstacle course of floating buoys. The ship did not slow as the guns moved, and Alexander could feel Lazarev nodding beside him. They missed the target–an old Joseon ship floating on the green water–but as Lazarev often said, shells were easier to replace than men and ships. Given the size of Russia compared to the size of their foes, a stalled battle would always be a victory.

The obstacle course continued. The gunboat cut through the growing swells, turning suddenly. The six-dyuym gun barked, shifting the entire ship to the left. The blank shell fell onto the target, heavy metal causing a shower of splinters that Alexander could only just make out even with his binoculars.

“The ship performs well,” Alexander noted as the gunboat returned to the docks a half-hour later. “The crew . . . one of five is not a good number.”

“They will get better,” Lazarev promised. “This was their first run.”

Alexander nodded. “See that they get much practice,” he said. “It is not as if we have a shortage of coal. Has there been any progress with the submarine?”

“The electric motors are still inefficient,” Lazarev complained. “They are a waste of time with what we have available. Even the scientists are starting to complain.”

Alexander frowned. “What do they have to complain about?”

“They say there is nothing more to learn until there are new metals or motors. Colonel Konstantinov in particular wishes to test new weapons. He believes he has a method for making rockets work underwater.”

Alexander turned at that. An underwater rocket sounded both familiar and utterly revolutionary. “How does he propose to do that?”

“I have no idea. He said something about pressure and rotary movement but I confess it went beyond my understanding of the sciences.”

“How much would it cost to discover?”

Lazarev gave him a flat look. Alexander stifled the desire to glare. “Less than the submersibles.” the Admiral said.

“Then we will fund both.”

“If I may–”

Alexander reluctantly nodded.

“Why are you so insistent upon the submersibles?”

“Can you not see it?” Alexander asked. “A ship that can disappear at will. That can fire, vanish, and fire again. Coupled with these underwater rockets it could destroy an armored warship without ever being found.”

“That is a revolutionary prospect,” Lazarev agreed, “but we do not have the necessary motors.”

“Not yet.”

“We do not know what they will look like when we do have them,” Lazarev continued. “I do not dispute the need for continued experiments, but let them be experiments, your Imperial Highness. The time is not yet right for a full-sized model.”

Alexander looked out to the sea. The green-blue waves crashed on the sandy surface, white foam spreading across soft golden sand.

“Fine,” Alexander said. “Minimize the project. But when the motors are available, I want the submarines ready to go.”

“I am at your command, your Imperial Highness.”

*

When Alexander and his family returned to Irkutsk in mid-April the ground was still covered in snow, but the city was already starting to empty out. With the deep drifts fading into memory with the coming of spring the Mirs would soon need their cobblers, shopkeepers, and blacksmiths, who by now remembered why they preferred to live away from their big-city inlaws.

As ever Alexander’s return was greeted by cheering crowds and his awaiting Directors. After dealing with his waiting well-wishers and successfully (for the most part) foisting the favor-seeking nobles who had flocked to Irkutsk in his absence upon Maria and Prince Odoyevsky, Alexander turned to a rather pressing matter: the education of his children.

While Pyotr had only just turned two, Alexandra was reaching the age where early lessons could be absorbed. Given her rank, such lessons must begin as soon as they could, which led Alexander towards a hunt the likes of which he had not experienced in this lifetime. Hiring a skilled teacher would not have been difficult, for there were many. The issue lay in hiring a skilled teacher who was also a noblewoman, for it was seen as unacceptable for a Grand Duchess to be taught by a man or a commoner, and unlike with common men–who already required near-miraculous levels of talent and luck to climb the Table of Ranks into the Russian nobility–it was all but impossible for common women to become noble on the basis of their intellect. Alexander therefore required a noblewoman who was intelligent, who believed in the Collective Purpose, who was a skilled teacher, and who lived or was willing to live in Irkutsk.

Needless to say, Alexander did not find such a woman in the first week after his arrival. Nor did he find her on the second, nor the third. His search, by necessity, became but one task among many as reports stacked up–the army, the navy, the mines, the foundries, the factories, the lumbermills, the Mirs, the railways, the housing, the monuments–each demanded at least a cursory glance lest some obvious bit of corruption or treason slip under his nose.

By July Alexander was forced to concede that a perfect governess did not exist, and turned to the next-best thing. Alexandra Andreevna Tolstaya was one of his sister’s ladies-in-waiting and had already demonstrated an ability to handle the Alexandras. She was steadfastly loyal, to the point where even a ten-thousand ruble bribe had not removed a single piece of silk from Maria’s bedroom. Her politics were the only area in which she could be found lacking. Hopefully she would learn, or at least learn what she ought to teach. Which mattered little to Alexander compared to the importance of ensuring his children were dedicated to the Common Purpose. Nothing destroyed a monarchy so readily as internal divisions.