The real change had happened with Brent and Trent. About a month ago, he had started going on about his twin mechanical geniuses. Practical pragmatic mechanical geniuses, with a plan to build a sewing machine factory, and even somewhat about their friends Sarah and David. Mostly Sarah. In Kent’s estimation, David Bartley’s major claim to fame was having the right friends. Though he liked the boy’s grandmother, Delia Higgins.
Dave had gotten chapter and verse on the idiocy of bankers when the bank loan fell through. Then a week ago, when Delia Higgins had sold the dolls, Kent had conceded that David also had the right grandmother, and offered an almost grudging acknowledgement that Trent and Brent’s loyalty to their less competent friend was returned.
The thing that impressed Dave Marcantonio, though, was that the kids got together and insisted that Delia receive the lion’s share of the company. Good kids, even if he doubted that they were the mechanical geniuses their father claimed.
The designs were pretty good; not real good, but not bad. At one point, when he pointed out a place where their designs would need two parts where one slightly more complex part would do for both they gave Kent a look and Kent blushed. Dave had known Kent Partow for years. They were best friends. He knew and even shared Kent’s preference for simpler machining jobs. Too darn many people added bells and whistles where they weren’t needed, but sometimes Kent took it too far. It wasn’t hard for Dave to figure out that Kent had made them change it. He didn’t laugh in front of the kids, but Kent was in for some teasing later.
The designs were really quite good, Dave realized, as he continued to examine them. There were a number of places where they managed to have several of the production machines use common parts. And some places where the machines were basically modular. The power transfer for three of the seven machines were effectively the same structure, so with some adjustment, if one machine broke then another could be refitted to take its place. That was a fine bit of work. They hadn’t been too ambitious either. The machines were simple, designed to do one or two things and that was it. The thing that had fooled him was that, good or not, they were somewhat amateurish. Not that they were sloppy, but the kids didn’t know the tricks of the trade. They didn’t know how to make their designs immediately clear. These took more study before you got a real feel for what they were doing.
Okay. Maybe they were mechanical geniuses. At the least, they were clever kids that thought things through. Which was a hell of a lot more than he would expect from a couple of high school freshmen. He figured someone had had an influence on them. Partly Kent, but someone else too. These designs had been gone over before. By someone practical.
Good designs or not, it was still going to cost. He looked at the kids and remembered why he hadn’t had any. Let someone else tell the charming little monsters “no.” He gave them his best guess as to cost. Told them it was a guess. Made sure that they understood that since the Ring of Fire, defense and power came first. That they were at the back of a fairly long line and it was a safe bet that other projects would come along and cut in front of them.
He told them that they would have to come up with the iron and steel for the parts. Finally: “I’ll have to charge you as we go. Let me look at the designs, for a week or so, and see if there is anything I can do to make them cheaper to make.”
They took it well. They thanked him and said the week was fine. They had been expecting it to be worse, but Dave, not being as well known as the other two professional shops in town, hadn’t been getting quite so flooded with work. Besides, he was discounting his price. Kent was his best friend, after all.
August 3, 1631: Dave Marcantonio’s Machine Shop