Creating an Industrial Empire in 19th Century Parallel World

One month later, back in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania.

Jonathan Axelsen strode confidently across the muddy construction site, the soft ground giving way beneath his polished leather boots as he approached the towering office building. Poul Nielsen, his partner, walked beside him, gripping a bundle of blueprints under his arm. A gust of wind swept through the site, lifting a cloud of dust and forcing Poul to shield his eyes.

"Jonathan," Poul said, squinting against the gritty air, "I must say, the progress on this building is astounding. It's hard to believe we started just two years ago."

Jonathan nodded, his gaze taking in the strong brick facade, the sturdy iron girders, and the intricate wooden scaffolding enveloping the structure.

"You're right, Poul. This project truly showcases our engineering expertise. Now, let's get on with the inspection, shall we?"

As they entered the building, Jonathan glanced at his pocket watch.

"We'll start by assessing the structural integrity, then move on to the HVAC systems. We have to make sure everything is operating smoothly and efficiently."

He then spread the blueprints out on a makeshift table, revealing the intricate design of the building.

"These are the most crucial points for our inspection," he said, indicating specific areas on the plans.

Following Jonathan's lead, Jonathan guided him to the first checkpoint. They ascended a series of concrete stairs, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the partially built structure. Reaching the designated spot, Jonathan crouched down to inspect the brickwork, his fingers tracing the mortar lines.

"The masonry is exceptional," he remarked, "The bricks are perfectly aligned, and the mortar is applied evenly. This should offer a solid foundation for the floors above."

Poul, in the meantime, studied the iron girders supporting the structure. He may not be the best as Jonathan in structural engineering but he can still give his insights.

"The beams are spaced just right and show no signs of warping or stress. The rivets are secure, and the metalwork is top-notch. Surely our contractors  This building will certainly withstand the test of time."

Together, they continued their inspection, assessing the walls, ceilings, and floor supports. With each area they examined, the engineers became increasingly impressed with the craftsmanship and attention to detail demonstrated by the construction crew.

Eventually, they shifted their focus to the HVAC systems. Since Poul was the one who designed it, he led Jonathan to the basement, where the furnaces and ductwork were being installed.

"These furnaces," he explained, "are designed to heat the entire building efficiently, ensuring a comfortable temperature in every room during cold seasons."

Jonathan inspected the coal-fired furnaces, admiring their robust construction and the ingenious arrangement of the ducts.

"The design of these systems is quite advanced for the time, Poul. And the insulated ductwork will guarantee minimal heat loss."

Poul nodded, visibly proud of his contributions to the project. "That's right, Jonathan. And with proper maintenance, these systems will keep the building comfortable for many years to come."

"Well, that is the goal anyway."

Feeling satisfied with their inspection, Jonathan and Poul climbed the stairs back to the ground floor. As they stepped out of the building and took in the bustling construction site once more, a sense of accomplishment washed over them. They had overcome the odds and achieved the seemingly impossible, blending their knowledge and skills to craft a modern marvel in an era far removed from their own.

"We've done it, Poul," Jonathan exclaimed, patting his colleague on the back. "This building, once completed, will become an icon of Avalonian modern architecture. I expect a lot of architects and engineers from different states and countries to visit the building. Just like what happened in the Beaver Building."

Poul smiled, chuckling, as his eyes fixed on the towering edifice that represented their shared achievements.

"I heard about the story, Jonathan. It was amusing if I must say."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the construction site, Jonathan Axelsen and Poul Nielsen stood side by side, taking pride in their accomplishments. With a successful inspection behind them, they knew the completion of the building was within reach, for probably about six months.

As they were about to leave the building, Jonathan asked Poul.

"So, have you received any news from the British Legation? Have they accepted your purpose of visitation with the Duke of Wessex?"

"Ah…yeah, about that. I just received their letter earlier. I was about to tell you about that when we are back in the office but since you brought that up, I figured I can say it here."

"So, you are really going huh? To meet Sara."

"Well, I want to check on her if she is doing fine," Poul replied. "I'm genuinely concerned about her well-being. Especially when she was deployed on the frontlines to tend the wounded soldiers in the war."

"That is understandable, you really should go, I'll handle the business here, just like you did while I was away in New York," Jonathan said, patting Poul's shoulder.

***

The following day, in the main office, Poul descended the staircase, clutching a leather suitcase in each hand. His footsteps resonated against the polished wooden steps.

At the foot of the stairs, Amelia stood waiting, her delicate features illuminated by the warm glow of sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She caught Poul's eye, her smile both welcoming and tinged with melancholy as she waved a slender hand in greeting.

"You're leaving now, Mr. Nielsen?" Amelia inquired, her voice quavering slightly as she tried to mask the sadness etched upon her face.

"Yes, I have urgent business to attend to in England," Poul replied, adjusting his grip on the luggage. "While I'm away, I trust you to look after the company and keep an eye on Jonathan. Can you manage that?"

"I understand, Mr. Nielsen," Amelia replied, her eyes downcast.

Poul studied her for a moment, concern furrowing his brow. "Amelia, what's the matter? You've seemed unusually pale lately, and your demeanor is more subdued. Is something troubling you?"

She hesitated before answering, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress. "No, not at all, Mr. Nielsen. It's just that I've noticed your approach towards me has become more professional than before."

Poul tilted his head to the side. "I'm sorry but I don't understand. Shouldn't it be the case?"

Amelia sighed. "Forget about that, Mr. Nielsen. If I may at least escort you out."

"Yeah, that would be appreciated," Poul said as they exited the main office. Outside was a horse-drawn carriage parked in front, waiting for Poul.

As she watched him board the carriage, Amelia couldn't help but feel torn inside. She remembered the days when Poul treated her kindly, and special, but now, it changed. She wondered what changed him.