Lord of Entertainment

Chapter 37: I’ll create my own style of computer

Chapter 37: I'll create my own style of computer

(George's POV)

My head feels like it's been used as a dwarf's anvil, courtesy of last night's overindulgence. All I want is to crawl back into bed, but Arthur's boundless energy has other plans. He bursts in, practically vibrating with excitement.

I recognize that look. It's the same one he wore every day during "The Demonfather" shoot. Forcing myself to sit up, I groan, "Arthur, you look like a kid on Hellmas morning. Don't tell me we're jumping into another project already?"

Arthur's grin widens. "Right on the money, George! We're about to embark on our next big venture."

Klein, looking as rough as I feel, chimes in from his corner. "Boss, isn't it a bit soon? The ink's barely dry on 'The Demonfather' contracts."

Arthur chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ah, but this project isn't for everyone. It's just for me and George."

The room erupts in panic. Klein's voice rises above the rest, "What? Are you firing us, boss?"

I frown, my hangover momentarily forgotten. "Arthur, we can't make a film with just the two of us. And you can't just toss these guys out on their ears."

"Whoa, whoa!" Arthur holds up his hands, laughing. "You've got it all wrong. I'm not firing anyone. This isn't about film at all. We're talking mechanics here."

A collective sigh of relief sweeps through the room. I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "Mechanics?"

Arthur nods, his excitement infectious. "That's right. I haven't quite cracked our next film project yet, but don't worry, we'll get there. For now, though, I've got an idea that you and I can sink our teeth into."

My curiosity gets the better of me. "What kind of idea are we talking about here?"

Arthur's grin turns conspiratorial. He jerks his head towards the door. "Follow me, and I'll show you."

As we leave the others behind and enter another room in the warehouse, I can't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. Whatever Arthur's cooked up, it's bound to be interesting. And probably more than a little crazy.

As Arthur leads me into the room, I can practically see the gears turning in his head. "So... what's this experiment all about, Arthur?" I ask, bracing myself for whatever wild idea he's cooked up this time.

He flashes that mysterious smile of his, the one that usually precedes something either brilliant or disastrous. "George... have you ever wondered if a complex mathematical problem could be solved by a machine?"

I blink, suddenly realizing where he's going with this. "Oh, you want to experiment with a computing machine? But why? The famous dwarf Mustasho Ward already built the Ward Engine. Isn't that enough?"

Arthur laughs, shaking his head. "Yes, of course. But those machines are so limited. And programming them with punch cards is a nightmare." His eyes gleam with excitement as he continues, "What if we could develop a machine that could do more, calculate faster, store more data, and solve more complex problems, all with less effort to instruct it?"

I stare at him, wondering if the success has finally cracked that brilliant mind of his. "That's impossible, Arthur. And even if it weren't, it would take an impossible amount of time to develop such a machine."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, my friend," he says, patting me on the shoulder. "You have me. I have the genius brain to create a machine that could automate tasks, solve complex problems, and do much more that will revolutionize the world!"

I can't help but look at him like he's grown a second head. "Has all this overnight success gone to your head? Are you feeling alright?"

But Arthur just laughs off my concern, already rummaging through electronic equipment with the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store.

I sigh, sending up a silent prayer. Great Forgefather, please keep an eye on my friend here. Make sure his mental health is intact and that success hasn't completely derailed his sanity.

As I watch Arthur excitedly pulling out wires and components, I can't help but feel a mix of worry and excitement. Part of me thinks he's lost his mind, but another part... well, another part can't help but wonder: what if he's right? What if we could create something that revolutionary?

I shake my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips. "Alright, Arthur. I'm probably going to regret this, but... where do we start?"

***

(Arthur's POV)

As the flood of computer knowledge settles into my brain, I realize just how naive my initial expectations were. It's like trying to drink from a firehose - overwhelming, but exhilarating.

I thought inheriting "computer knowledge" meant I'd suddenly be able to program in easy, human-readable languages, instructing machines as if by magic. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening.

The truth is far more complex and, in a way, more exciting. I've come to understand that instructing a machine is really up to me. There's no need to strictly adhere to punch cards or low-level languages - not yet, anyway.

Take a simple machine designed to perform specific sequences. I could instruct it through physical means, like pushing buttons, or go the Ward Engine route with punch cards. The engine would read these cards and execute specific sequence patterns, much like a Jacquard loom.

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. With this new computer knowledge, I have the freedom to innovate beyond what I initially imagined.

It's not about following a predetermined path of technological evolution - I can forge my own.

The possibilities are endless. While this world has its Ward Engine and my old world had its Analytical Engine, Difference Engine, and Harvard Mark I, I'm not bound by their limitations or methodologies.

Who says I need to stick to punch cards or traditional input methods?

My mind races with potential alternatives. What if I create a computing machine that uses film strips instead? It could perform specific sequence patterns and functions, solve problems, and store memories, all through this unconventional medium.

Sure, film strips might be more expensive than punch cards, but there could be cheaper variants. I could develop a method to encode binary data on these strips using a rolling machine, then feed them into my computer to perform specific tasks.

And then there's the magic of this world - an element that opens up even more exciting possibilities. Spells that command fire, ice, wind... what if I could harness these for computation? I could potentially create a machine that responds to magical inputs, blending technology and sorcery in ways never before imagined.

The more I think about it, the more excited I become.

As I set up the equipment for our experiments, my mind races with possibilities. Using film strips as an input method isn't just a random choice. If I can pull this off, it could revolutionize the film industry itself. Imagine a computer machine that could edit films more efficiently, solving complex editing problems, automating tedious tasks, and even suggesting creative cuts. It's a filmmaker's dream come true.

I explain my vision to George, watching his expression shift from skepticism to cautious interest.

"You have a more interesting concept than I thought..." George nods, stroking his beard. But then he adds, "But I don't think we'll be able to do it without knowledge. Sure, you have an idea, but do you have the know-how to follow through?"

I can't help but chuckle. If only he knew about the wealth of computer knowledge I've suddenly acquired. But I can't exactly tell him about my magical reward system, can I?

Instead, I opt for a confident smile. "Just trust me, George. I'm not a prince director for nothing."

George snorts, shaking his head. "Yeah, but the media calls you a prince director because of 'The Demonfather'. That doesn't mean you have a genius mind for machines."

His words sting a bit, but I can't fault his logic. From his perspective, I'm a filmmaker who's suddenly decided to revolutionize computing. It does sound a bit far-fetched.