The balloon demonstration was three weeks ago, yet Sharath still had fragments of ceremonial ribbon adhering to his workshop tools. The compromise agreements were signed, the government officials no longer visited on a daily basis, and life at House Darsha was just about back to normal.
Just about.
Since now Sharath was fixated on city planning, and therefore everyone else had to be fixated on it as well.
"Here, look at this," he said, unfurling a detailed map across the breakfast table and almost spilling his father's coffee. "Valdris has *no* adequate water distribution. None! They're piping everything through three wells that can barely keep half the population going!"
Mina, who was supposed to be eating porridge but was instead dismantling a pocket watch, glanced up. "That's nice, Sharath. Pass the honey?"
"Nice? *Nice?* Mina, people are collapsing from heat exhaustion because some architect two hundred years ago thought, 'You know what this city needs? More stone and less shade!'"
Dayo sighed from across the table. "Here we go again."
***
## ❖ The Drought Discovery
The crisis had begun innocently enough. Sharath's family had been driving to Valdris for the meeting of the Continental Trade Council—a dull diplomatic conference that Sharath had only reluctantly agreed to attend because they'd promised him access to the records of the city's engineering.
What he discovered left him wanting to rebuild the whole kingdom.
"See that," he'd told Mina as their balloon came down over the city. "The fountains are dry, the streets are hot as charcoal, and I see at least six areas where they ought to have put in aqueducts but didn't."
"Perhaps they enjoy being thirsty and sweaty," Mina said, not even glancing up from her sketch pad where she was designing more and more fanciful models for a collapsible balloon anchor.
"No one enjoys being thirsty and sweaty."
"No one does except Dayo. Do you remember when he spent three hours in the forge last summer and told you it was 'character building'?"
From the pilot seat of the balloon, Dayo shouted back, "I can hear you! And that was different! I was learning valuable metalworking skills!"
"You were avoiding your mother because you broke her beloved teapot."
".And also that."
Thermo the cat, who had somehow convinced everyone he was an essential member of the engineering team, opened one judgmental eye from his cushioned perch and seemed to say: *You're all ridiculous, but I suppose I'll supervise.*
***
## ❖ The Urban Heat Nightmare
Walking through Valdris felt like being gradually baked in a rock oven contrived by a person with a vendetta against humancounter comfort. The streets emitted waves of heat, the functioning fountains were swamped by desperate populace, and even birds had apparently lost hope and migrated to somewhere else more sensible.
"This is a calamity," Sharath grumbled, scribbling in his leather notebook. "No ventilation channels, insufficient water storage, no climate planning—"
"You're grumbling again," Mina pointed out. "People are looking."
"Good! They should look! This is municipal engineering negligence!"
An onlooker merchant, listening in, leaned in. "You're that balloon kid, aren't you? The one who makes things?"
"I'd rather be called 'innovative engineer,'" Sharath said proudly.
"Can you construct something to end this heat? I'm losing customers because they keep passing out in my store."
Sharath hadn't even had a chance to respond before Dayo arrived with three soggy cloths and a determined grimace. "Emergency cooling materials. I might have inadvertently flooded the washroom at the inn acquiring these, but desperate times call for desperate measures."
Mina took a cloth from her and smiled. "How do you inadvertently flood a washroom?"
"Apparently their plumbing wasn't designed for someone trying to soak three cloths simultaneously while muttering about 'inadequate water pressure' and 'whoever designed this should be forced to carry buckets for a year.'"
***
## ❖ The Council Meeting Catastrophe
The city officials' meeting started professionally enough. Mayor Caldris, a fatigued-looking man in his middle age, greeted them to the council chamber—a hot room with high windows that seemed to seal in heat instead of letting it escape.
"Thank you for attending, Young Lord Darsha. We're looking forward to hearing about your balloon transport innovations and how they can benefit Valdris."
Sharath had prepared a presentation. He'd brought charts, diagrams, and a working model of a cargo balloon. He'd even practiced his opening remarks.
Instead, he said: "With respect, Mayor Caldris, how has nobody died from this heat yet?"
The room fell silent except for the sound of councilmen fanning themselves with official documents.
"I beg your pardon?" Mayor Caldris asked.
"Your city is a heat trap. Buildings made of stone with no ventilation, packed wells, no climate control—it's as if you built it precisely to make individuals wretched."
Councilman Garrett, a stout man who'd been growing more and more crimson-faced, decided this was the perfect time to become a demonstration of Sharath's words by falling sideways off his chair.
"GARRETT!" Mayor Caldris sprang up, pandemonium ensued, and Dayo immediately began dumping his reserve water supplies over the prostrate official.
Mina bent over to Sharath and whispered, "Well, you certainly made your point dramatically."
***
## ❖ The Grand Solution (And the Arguments That Followed)
Later that night, back in their accommodation (which was marginally cooler than the council chamber but still felt like sleeping in a bread oven), Sharath laid out his solution.
"Full water and climate infrastructure," he declared, laying out blueprints on the floor. "Mountain spring aqueducts, enchanted cooling towers, mist distribution networks, the whole thing."
Mina examined the diagrams with the look she reserved for Sharath's more extreme plans—equal measures impressed and anxious. "This is. extensive. Like, 'rebuild half the city' extensive."
"Sometimes you have to rebuild half the city."
"And costly," Dayo contributed. "Like, 'persuade people to spend more money than ever' costly."
"Money well spent if people no longer collapse from heatstroke."
"And complex," Mina went on. "Like, 'coordinate seventeen varieties of specialists while negotiating local politics and not inadvertently flooding everything' complex."
Sharath hesitated. "Are you attempting to dissuade me from this?"
"No," Mina said diplomatically. "I'm trying to explain that you realize what you're getting us into."
"Us?" Dayo squeaked. "When did this turn into an 'us' project?"
Mina smiled. "Since you volunteered to be the kingdom's most theatrically useful balloon pilot. Face it, Dayo, we're in this now."
Thermo, having listened from his usual place on the window ledge, leapt down and strode purposely to Sharath's blueprint. He sat right on the section marked "Cooling Tower Design" and started licking his paw.
"I suspect that's cat for 'this plan needs fixing,'" Dayo noted.
"Or he's offering to oversee construction," Mina said.
Sharath glanced at his team—his constant worrywart best friend, his panic-prone pilot who managed to succeed despite it all, and a cat with very definite opinions regarding engineering ventures—and felt a rush of love and resolve.
"You know what? Okay. It's complicated, costly, and far-reaching. But people are in pain, and we can make it right. Isn't that worth the hassle?"
Mina folded up the blueprints with a defeated exhalation. "Of course it is. But next time you plan on saving a city, can you please give us more than five minutes' notice?"
"Deal," Sharath said. "Now, who'd like to assist me in calculating water pressure ratios for a fifteen-mile aqueduct network?"
The room was quiet with only Thermo's purring and the faint sound of Dayo mumbling, "Why do I always get myself into these sorts of situations?"
***
## ❖ The Construction Comedy Hour
Constructing magical water and climatic systems proved to be all the more chaotic than they had dared to hope, which was saying something given everyone's expectations had been thoroughly pessimistic.
The first large-scale disaster occurred at the aqueduct foundation ceremony. Master Hendrick's team was to break ground simultaneously as the city mages initiate the earth-softening spell. Easy scheduling, actually.
But the mages had initiated their spell ahead of time, the earth had begun to turn to mud as the ceremonial first scoop struck the ground, and Mayor Caldris had sunk in waist-deep into what was still solid stone half a second before.
"Well," Dayo noted, observing city officials trying to coax their mayor out of spell-infused mud without compromising civic dignity, "at least we know the earth-softening spell works."
"Too well," added Mina, sketching quickly as she recorded the fiasco. "Next time, perhaps a five-minute lag between spell preparation and official rites?"
Sharath nodded, taking notes. "Lesson one: Factor political timing into magical construction timetables."
Thermo, sitting securely atop a rock, twitched his tail in what could only be deciphered as feline disdain for human ineptness.
The calibration of the cooling tower had the opposite issue. Following the mud debacle, everybody was being very careful about integrating magical systems. So careful that when they were testing the ice-elemental cooling spells, no one thought to begin with a low-scale test.
The outcome was three days of simulated winter in the middle of summer.
"I have to say," Mayor Caldris said, picking carefully over the slick plaza steps wearing emergency winter gear in July, "this is a lot more pleasant than the heat wave. But my wife's garden is completely confused."
"The flowers have no idea what season it is," added Chief Gardener Elara, gesturing to roses bursting alongside snowdrifts. "I've got spring bulbs pushing through alongside icicles. It's the loveliest thing I've ever seen or the most wrong."
Sharath fiddled with the temperature controls as Mina recorded the calibration settings and Dayo handed out hot soup to city workers enjoying their first snow day in years.
"Lesson two," Sharath grumbled, "phased installation of all climate control systems."
***
## ❖ The Water Spirit Negotiation
The greatest surprise test was when Lady Aquaria chose to speak her mind regarding mortals rediverting her water systems.
She materialized during the late afternoon shift change, springing from the half-built central fountain like a creature out of myth—lovely, intimidating, and evidently irritated.
"Young engineer," she replied, her voice like the rush of water, "you assume much."
The work crew ceased laboring and gazed. A couple of workers dropped their tools. An apprentice mage collapsed into the fountain.
Sharath, elbow-deep in magical pipe fittings, raised his eyes calmly. "Good afternoon, Lady Aquaria. I've been looking forward to meeting you."
Mina took hold of his arm. "Sharath, that's a *water spirit*. You don't address a water spirit with 'good afternoon'."
"Why not? She's clearly here to talk about the project."
Lady Aquaria blinked, taken aback. "You. anticipated me?"
"Of course. We're dealing with your water infrastructure. Professional courtesy requires that we speak to the existing management."
Dayo whispered urgently, "Are you treating a powerful magical being like a business partner?"
"She's a business partner," Sharath answered sensibly. "She handles regional water management. We're building regional water infrastructure. Naturally, we have to coordinate."
Lady Aquaria cocked her head, thinking. "You know, working with mortals for three centuries, and nobody ever referred to me as 'current management' before."
"Would you rather be called 'Regional Water Director'? 'Chief Hydrological Officer'?"
A smile flickered at the edges of her mouth. "I think. I like 'business partner.'"
The negotiations that followed were surprisingly straightforward once everyone stopped panicking about supernatural protocol and started discussing practical water management issues.
Mina took detailed notes on magical water quality standards. Dayo asked excellent questions about seasonal flow variations. Thermo sat in Lady Aquaria's lap and purred, apparently deciding that water spirits met his standards for acceptable humans.
"You have a very professional cat," Lady Aquaria observed, scratching behind Thermo's ears.
"He's our quality control manager," Sharath defined seriously. "Extremely high standards."
***
## ❖ The Fountain God Problem
Six months since the water systems went online, Sharath learned he had an image problem.
"They constructed *what*?" he stormed, glowering at the report Mina had returned from the city center.
"A statue," Mina said, very clearly struggling not to laugh. "Of you. In the main fountain. Citizens have been leaving offerings."
"What sorts of offerings?"
"Flowers, fruits, rain requests, cooler weather requests, one marriage proposal, and what looks like someone's tax issues scrawled on a scroll."
Dayo glanced up from his engineering reports. "You've gone from engineer to deity status. Congrats?"
"I don't want to be a deity! I'm eleven!"
"Twelve, technically. Your birthday was last month."
"Twelve-year-old deity, then. This is absurd."
Thermo, listening from his warm patch of sunlight by the window, got up and sat directly on top of Sharath's complaint letter to the city council. He started purring loudly.
"I think Thermo believes you should be complimented," Mina noted.
"Thermo believes I should receive fish and high-end cat treats in exchange for positive weather reports, don't think otherwise," Sharath replied. "Don't think I don't see what you're scheming, cat."
Thermo's purr grew stronger, and he fixed Sharath with an expression of utter innocence that deceived absolutely no one.
The resolution, in the end, was a compromise characteristic of Sharath's solution to unforeseen dilemmas: pragmatic, mildly instructive, and intended to placate all parties while addressing the issue at hand.
The statue remained (it would have been disappointing to people and unnecessary drama to remove it), but Sharath had a plaque put up detailing the engineering of the water and cooling systems, the value of community collaboration in infrastructure maintenance, and a short message that good planning had led to excellent municipal services and not God's intervention.
The proposals kept coming, but now they were largely composed of engineering queries, ideas for system enhancements, and the occasional query about how to consult on other infrastructure projects.
"Nothing to complain about," Mina said, scanning the latest set of citizen input. "You've managed to turn inadvertent worship into community-driven infrastructure planning."
"And the proposals of marriage?"
"Oh, those are still rolling in. I've got a separate folder."
Dayo glanced over her shoulder. "How many proposals of marriage does a twelve-year-old civil engineer receive?"
"Seventeen so far. Mostly from families with daughters who believe marrying the 'Fountain God' would secure consistent water supply."
Sharath hid his face in his hands. "I just wanted people to be able to live comfortable lives and have proper plumbing."
"Mission accomplished," Mina said brightly. "Also, you're apparently quite the eligible bachelor now."
Thermo leaped onto Sharath's lap and started purring encouragingly, as if to say: *Don't worry. I'll assist you in interviewing prospective partners for their dedication to maintaining proper infrastructure.*
***
## ❖ Toward a Brighter Future
As autumn came to Valdris—a cozy, properly climate-controlled autumn due to the new systems—Sharath stood in his makeshift workshop checking the success indicators of the project.
Clean water for all: Check.
Comfortable temperatures year-round: Check.
Vibrant agriculture and industry: Check.
Becoming an accidental local god: Sadly, also crossed off.
"What's next?" Mina asked, sitting down beside him in the window that looked out on the city. The cooling towers hummed along just fine, the fountains glinted in the evening light, and citizens strolled through the streets with the easy-going stride of individuals who weren't constantly fighting environmental extremes.
"Communication systems," Sharath replied at once. "Means for communities to exchange information, coordinate resources, learn instantly from one another independent of distance."
"Mystical message networks?"
"Better than that. School and library systems that link all schools and libraries. Economic coordination that enables communities to specialize and trade effectively. Information infrastructure that brings knowledge to all people."
Dayo glanced up from his maintenance reports. "That sounds even more complicated than the water project."
"Likely," Sharath concurred. "But see what we've managed to do here. Six months ago, people were collapsing from heat stroke and conserving water. Now they're composing odes to immaculately cared-for fountains and inquiring about hiring me as a consultant on park planning."
"And asking for our hand in marriage," Mina chimed in.
"We're not discussing the marriage proposals."
"I think we ought to discuss them." Number eighteen came in today. She sent along blueprints for a love canal system."
Sharath glared at her. "Blueprints?"
"Very technical ones. She's obviously been taking note of your engineering designs."
Thermo hopped onto the windowsill and looked out at the city with the self-satisfied look of a boss whose project had surpassed all standards of quality. He then looked at Sharath and meowed once, conclusively.
"Thermo says we should begin working on the communication grids," Dayo translated. "Also, he likes wife number eighteen's canal blueprints."
"Thermo is not going to get to vet my hypothetical future boyfriends," Sharath objected.
"Someone should," Mina replied sensibly. "You're obviously going to be too busy changing the way cities are built to adequately screen marriage proposals on your own."
And as the sun set over their prosperous city, glinting off flowing aqueducts and comfortable structures brimming with contented citizens, Sharath started drafting the initial plans for communication systems that would bind each village in the kingdom together under instant, dependable access to information and opportunity.
The water and climate revolution was done.
The communication revolution was just around the corner.
And somewhere in the metropolis, citizens were likely writing tomorrow's engineering problems and marriage proposals with equal fervor.
Certain difficulties, Sharath thought, were more agreeable than others.